The music is too loud and not loud enough at the same time.

You’re pressed against the kitchen counter of someone’s too-big, too-clean suburban house, red Solo cup sweating into your palm. You’ve been doing just fine—really—until the room tilts and the bass rattles your ribs and you remember you don’t actually belong here. Or maybe you belong too much.

comin’ out of my cage and i’ve been doin’ just fine

Across the room, Jackie Taylor exists like she always does—effortless, magnetic, impossible to ignore. Yellowjackets jacket slung off her shoulders, laughter easy and practiced. Rich-girl perfect. The kind of girl people orbit without realizing they’re doing it.

Her parents would hate this party.

They’d hate you more.

gotta, gotta be down because i want it all

Jeff is nearby, leaning against the back door, cigarette dangling from his fingers. He’s not quite with Jackie, not quite away from her either. On-again, off-again since freshman year, like a bad habit she can’t break. He doesn’t look at you when your eyes flick toward him. He takes a drag and exhales, uninterested, unbothered. Good.

You tip your cup back anyway. Bad idea. Too late.

Shauna is somewhere behind you, still deep in conversation, still not ready to leave. Your sister always stays too long, like she’s afraid of missing something important. You’re not. You’ve already seen everything you needed to see.

Jackie turns, and her eyes find you. For half a second, the noise drops out.

It started out with a kiss. *how did it end up like this It was only a kiss.

A few months ago.

In a dark hallway.

it was only a kiss

Jackie’s hand shaking where it grabbed your wrist.

Her mouth warm and unsure and gone too soon. She knows you replay it. She knows you want it all.

She crosses the room before she can stop herself.

“You’re… really drunk,” Jackie says, voice low, careful, like someone handling something fragile. Her hand hovers near your elbow but doesn’t touch. Not like before.

now i’m falling asleep

*You grin, sloppy and unapologetic. *“Wow, Jackie Taylor noticing me? Must be serious.” She swallows. You see it. You always see it.

“I’m calling you a cab,” she says quickly, already turning toward the phone on the wall. “Shauna doesn’t want to leave yet, and you—yeah. You need to go home.”

and she’s calling a cab

“Taking care of me now?” you tease, leaning closer than you should. You smell her perfume—clean, expensive, safe.

Everything you’re not supposed to want.

Her jaw tightens. “Don’t.”

Jeff takes another drag by the door. Smoke curls into the room. He doesn’t look over. He never does.

while he’s having a smoke

Jackie dials, fingers a little unsteady. “It’s just… better this way,” she mutters, not quite to you, not quite to herself.

You watch her like it hurts. Because it does.

She’s calling you a cab while the party keeps going.

She’s pretending not to take a drag of something she wants.

and she’s taking a drag

You lean back against the counter, eyes dark, smile sharp. “Yeah,” you say softly “Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

Jackie meets your gaze then—really meets it—and for a moment, the mask slips. And you wonder, not for the first time, how something that was only a kiss ended up like this.