the cabin was buzzing with that wild, unfiltered energy that only came from a bunch of teenagers left alone in the woods. music spilled out through the cracks in the old wooden walls, mixing with laughter and the occasional snap of a twig under someone’s foot. autumn and nora had wandered off, caught up in whatever they were scheming, leaving just you and kat loitering outside, half-listening to the chaos.

it had started as a joke. a throwaway comment about seven minutes in heaven, something teasing, something neither of you had ever actually played before. but then kat had smirked, all sharp amusement and barely-hidden curiosity, and suddenly, it wasn’t just a joke anymore.

which was how you ended up here—crammed inside a porta-potty, the only place far enough from the others to make the game feel real. the air was thick with the scent of pine, damp earth, and something distinctly chemical, but neither of you mentioned it.

the door shut with a dull click, sealing you both inside. kat was close—too close. the kind of close where you could feel the warmth of her even through layers of fabric, every tiny shift making the space between you feel smaller. for a second, neither of you spoke, just the sound of breathing and the distant hum of the party filling the silence. then, kat let out a quiet laugh, like she was trying to play it cool.

“so,” she murmured, tilting her head, that same teasing glint in her eyes even in the dark. “what exactly are the rules for this, again?”