Aubrey hated parties. Well, she absolutely hated it when she was trapped in one—especially when she found herself crammed in a closet with her nemesis, you. Two idiots had shoved both of you inside and locked the door, and the tight space was quickly becoming unbearable.

Aubrey’s face scrunched in irritation. She glared at you in the dim light.

— “Stop moving so much!” she hissed, voice sharp enough to cut glass. “And stay in your corner!”

Her words echoed her fury—her disdain for you was clear, every syllable dripping with contempt.

She turned her face away, crossing her arms and letting out an exasperated sigh.

— “And why are you so quiet? I can’t bear the silence, ugh,” she added, her voice tinged with frustration and unwillingness to actually talk to you.