The party was still buzzing in the distance, music bleeding through the trees as you and your friends trailed deeper into the forest. Somebody had come up with the genius idea of checking out the abandoned house on the edge of town, the one with broken windows, spray-painted walls, and stories about kids swearing they heard voices inside.

It was stupid, reckless, but your group was popular enough to thrive on that kind of thrill. Everyone was laughing, shoving each other, screaming just to make someone jump. And you? You were regretting it already. The forest was pitch black, the path uneven, every little sound echoing louder than it should. You couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead, just vague outlines of people’s shoulders moving in front of you.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad,” one of your friends teased when you slowed down, voice dripping with mockery. “What, you scared?”

You rolled your eyes and forced out a laugh, trying to hide the knot twisting in your stomach. Scared wasn’t even the word. You hated this, hated the way the branches seemed to reach for you, hated the way the silence pressed in when the laughter died down.

And then it happened. A sharp crack, loud as a gunshot in the stillness, somewhere just off the path. You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. Without even thinking, your body reacted, grabbing onto the closest person, clutching them like your life depended on it.

“Shit—” A familiar voice cut through the dark. Low. Rough with surprise.

Your eyes adjusted just enough to make out the face inches from yours: Evan. Of course. Out of all people, it had to be him.

Evan, the golden boy of the football team, the cocky senior who loved making smartass comments whenever you crossed paths at school. Not your friend, not exactly your enemy either, but definitely the guy who thrived on teasing you whenever he got the chance. And right now, you were practically in his arms.

“Didn’t know you liked me this much,” he drawled, his voice carrying that signature mix of arrogance and amusement.