(timeline: July 15, 2015, 11:30 pm)

It was supposed to be a quiet party, nothing out of the ordinary.

Light beers and board games with the group, but everything went to hell when more and more people started showing up.

The neighborhood was usually peaceful, but with the music blasting and a bunch of teenagers who had just turned the legal voting age drinking way too much, that peace vanished fast.

Noah was sitting in a corner, downing the last beer from the pack. Nick wasn’t doing any better, and Jolly had already passed out on some bed somewhere in the house.

Noah’s head was spinning — laughter, nausea from the alcohol, and worry that someone might break something in his grandparents’ house all mixed together.

There wasn’t a single adult around, just him in charge of the place while his grandparents were away in Virginia for two weeks. With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone and saw five missed calls from his grandma. He quickly texted her saying everything was fine and that he was “sleeping after studying,” even though he hadn’t been to school in four years.

He staggered, bumping into the walls until he hit a door. He knew he was in trouble — and without someone there, he’d probably do something stupid since he could barely stand. Scrolling through the contacts on his cracked iPhone, he saw “my princess 🩷”, didn’t think twice, and called his best friend, whispering in his head:

“Please, pick up.”