chapter 2: a good time

Emilia's buns were slightly off-putting.

"You look like that chick from Star Wars," August laughed, taking a bite of her apple while amusedly staring at Emilia who was standing at the mirror, adjusting the two buns on top of her head.

"Or is it Star Trek?" Peyton asked, pulling up her ripped jeans and hopping around so they would go over her butt. "Jesus, these are small," she muttered.

"First of all, does it matter which fucking movie? Second of all, I think I look cute. You guys are just hating," Emilia said, dusting her freckles with sparkly highlight. She never failed to look like a fairy.

Peyton stepped towards her and reached her hands out to fix Emilia's black flyways on the side of her head. "No, we are simply observing. Right, August?"

August stood up and tossed the apple core into the trash. "Right, observing that you got kicked off the Star Wars spaceship and turned into a manic pixie girl from Tumblr."

"Don't act like you two didn't spend the majority of your fourteenth year in life reblogging sad shit on Tumblr," Emilia retorted, slipping her bare feet into her crocs.

Rolling her eyes in return, August stepped up to the mirror and placed in her earrings, staring at herself through her thick lashes. She had tried her best to do her eyebrows, but she never seem satisfied with them so she had impatiently given up and just left them how they were. She had applied a soft pink eyeshadow to her eyes and some Carmex to her lips, calling it quits after that. Her eyes seemed even darker than usual, the blue tint barely visible. She worried that maybe the choice of pink eyeshadow was wrong for her eye color.

"Stop worrying," Peyton whispered to her with one of August's necklaces in her hand that she didn't even ask to retrieve from her jewelry box. Standing behind August and stretching her arms in front of the brunette, she placed the necklace onto her chest and clasped it behind her neck. She fixed the back of August's hair and looked at her through the mirror. "You look good, August."

August took the black flower charm of the necklace between her fingers and tried to listen to her friend's words. She wasn't too worried about her looks; she was just not looking forward to being social.

Peyton placed her hands on August's shoulders that were blanketed by her light brown sweater. "We will have a good time, okay?"

Emilia came up from behind, now wearing a black long-sleeved, turtleneck shirt with a soft pink plaid jacket. "Yea, we're gonna have a good time. I mean, look how fucking good we look!"

Each of the girls looked at their own reflections in the mirror, and August picked at the loose strings in her very ripped up, baby blue jeans. "Yea but..." she began, looking back up in the mirror and flipping her short hair over her shoulder, "I look better than each and every one of you bitches."

They all laughed which made the tension in August's stomach ease slightly. "Conceited hoe," Peyton remarked, pinching at August's side before turning away to slip on her shoes.

A good time, August thought to herself as Emilia leaned herself closer in the mirror, dusting on even more highlight to her cheeks. She breathed in slowly and breathed out even more slowly, as she looked away from her friend and back at her own dark blue eyes in the mirror. "A good time."

"Plus, you know there will be some cute girls there," Peyton chimed. Bending down, she picked up August's black coat and threw it at her without warning.

August caught the coat by sheer luck. She slipped her arm into it and pulled it over her shoulders. She felt weird putting a coat on in October, since this time of year it would still be hot and humid in her hometown in Texas. But this was New York, and it was getting chilly outside—fast. "And there will be cute guys there, too, for you straighties," she joked.

"Hey, I am bisexual!" Emilia stated, putting her finger in the air. "I am valid."

"Of course, Em," August chuckled, slipping on her checkered Vans that were even more off-white than they were when she bought them.

"Let's go ladies!" Peyton loudly demanded, slipping on her grey Cornell jacket that August knew she would take off immediately as they got to the party, since it covered her party-appropriate (meaning inappropriate) outfit.

"Repping school spirit, huh?" August said, checking the time to see that it was 9 o'clock. She made a mental note to be back before twelve so she could give herself a little time to study for a huge test she had the next day.

"It took me so many SAT classes and attempts at that damned test to get into this damned university. Fuck off if you think I shouldn't boast about it." She brushed her fingers through her blonde hair a few times before heading towards the door.

"You'll be too drunk tonight to even remember what college you got into," Emilia responded, giving August the side eye because they both knew that Peyton had a fondness of liquor.

"Loudly and proudly," Peyton carelessly retorted as she was already outside walking down the hallway.

August laughed along with Emilia before picking up her phone and slipping it into her coat pocket, closing her dorm door and heading to the off-campus party.

♠

The music was deafening—literally. August smelled weed as soon as they stepped onto the lawn of the huge house at which one of Peyton's many friends were throwing the party. It wasn't a shocker that the house was basically a mansion; most students at Cornell lived in such houses. The student must have been a junior to live off-campus, August assumed. Usually these parties were in frat or sorority houses, not a basic mansion in the middle of a downtown area. She worried the house was located in too central of a place and that cops could easily be notified, but she then reconsidered the reliability of the police in the downtown area, as she looked around and saw graffiti lining alleyways and some sketchy characters walking along the streets.

"Peyton!" a girl yelled, running in her high heels to grab the girl and hug her as soon as the trio entered the home. She then grabbed Emilia to hug her, then turned to August. "August! What a surprise seeing you here!" she grabbed her for a hug and August could smell the vodka basically oozing off the girl's dirty blonde hair.

After giving a forced smile to the girl whose name she couldn't remember, August was only halfway listening to the conversation. Her eyes roamed around to all the people in the house. There was a group in the corner smoking weed out of a huge bong, and there was a keg of beer being emptied out by some frat guys who were yelling way too loudly. She noticed that on top of the fireplace were some decorative pumpkins with creepy smiles carved into them. Remembering that Halloween was only a week away, she hoped Peyton wouldn't drag her to any god-awful costume party.

Realizing her little group had already split up, she looked around for her friend, but couldn't find her anywhere. She did have eyes on Emilia, who was walking up to the weed-smokers. This wasn't a surprise to August.

Her nostrils feeling invaded by the smells and her eardrums punctured by the loud rap music, August made her way to the kitchen, pushing past lots of sweaty and large people considering she was a very small and petite girl. In the kitchen was a long bar with probably thirty different bottles of liquor. She had tried alcohol before, which was inevitable in high school, but she wasn't really a drinker. Once she spotted a bottle of Sprite which was probably there to mix with vodka or to calm the stomachs of those who had overestimated their tolerance, she was pouring herself a cup of it.

Leaning against the counter and taking a sip out of the red solo cup as the carbonated drink sizzled on her tongue, she looked across the room.

Her eyes locked with a girl who was sitting at the huddle of weed-smokers. Emilia was right next to her, speaking a few words to her before looking back at August herself. She was trying to set her up with the strange redheaded girl who smiled at her with pearly whites.

Reminding herself to curse at Emilia later, August plastered a smile on her face before looking away. The girl was cute, but she wasn't looking for any romantic flings. She had the extreme privilege of being able to go to Cornell to study writing, and she made a promise to herself the second she graduated high school that she would focus on her studies and nothing else. She couldn't risk throwing away her privilege by getting too distracted.

Her eyes landed on a boy who held a vape in his hand, bringing it to his mouth before blowing milky clouds of smoke out into the air as if the whole room wanted to breathe in his mango-flavored vapor. She was infatuated by the swirling clouds that lingered all the way up the staircase the boy was standing by.

The boy must have thought that August was staring so hard because of him, because he greeted her eyes with his and smiled a crooked smile. She only fake smiled back, not wanting to be rude but not wanting to give him any wrong ideas. He turned and began to walk over to her, but she quickly walked away into the sea of bodies and he lost her in the crowd of dancing and yelling people.

She knew Peyton was already drunk somewhere and Emilia was already high and eventually would be crossfaded, and she would be the mother of the group who made sure they both got back to the campus safely. She wanted to tell them that she was going to step outside for a minute, but it would take too much of an effort to hunt them down and try to tell them through their drunken haze. They wouldn't be going home for another three hours, anyway.

So she set her red solo cup down on a table beside the door and stepped outside, the cold air biting at her nose in contrast to the musky heat inside the house. She closed the door and, finally, it was quieter. As she let out a sigh from finally being released from that wild house, a cloud of warm air came from her cold lips that reminded her of the boy who was vaping.

She looked left and right down the street, wondering if it would be a good idea to take a short walk before going inside the house and trying again with the party. She had her phone on her in case anything happened, and she wouldn't walk too far.

The bottom of her dirty Vans padded against the concrete sidewalk as she turned left and began her stroll. Ithaca was a pretty place, even in the area she was in. Streetlights lit a warm, golden glow on the purple-leaved trees they towered over. She counted how many streetlights she passed, just in case she got lost. She didn't imagine she would ever get lost, though. She prided herself on her clear memory and navigation skills.

Soon she was deep in thought, admiring the old buildings even though they were heavily graffitied and their bricks damaged. Some's roofs had even caved in, but she admired them anyways.

Suddenly, it was a lot darker than usual. The streetlights stopped appearing in intervals like they had been. Her shoes scuffed as she halted, turning around to see that the last streetlight she'd passed was so far down the street that she could barely see it. She must have walked over half a mile away from the party, she thought.

It was even more shady on this side of town, and even more desolate. Where the party house was at, she had at least passed a few couples or business people who were either taking late night strolls like she was or had just left the office late. Here, there was no one.

Sighing, she knew if she turned back she would have to go back to the party. But as a prickly anxiety flooded her stomach, she knew she could not continue walking further.

Looking down at her feet, she took one step back towards the house, but abruptly stopped when she heard multiple grunts that sounded very close.

The anxiety in her stomach grew. The grunting continued, along with a bunch of scuffles and bangs. She turned around and saw that there was an alleyway only about six yards in front of her. Her senses suddenly heightened as fear took hold of her.

A yell came from the alleyway, along with a loud thud and several more thuds. It could be somebody in danger, she thought. They might need help.

"Help!" a man's pleading voice dragged out, but his cry for help was cut off by his own groan that echoed throughout the alleyway and into her ears.

It was none of her business. Trying to help would only get herself hurt. Her anxiety was telling her to run away and to do it fast. But there was another part of her, a part that she couldn't tell where it was coming from, that was telling her to run towards the sound and help the person crying for help.

Trembling hands and shaky breath grew worse in their fearful fidgets as she took a few quiet steps towards the alley, the thuds and grunts becoming more clear.

Her brain was screaming at her to stop, to turn and run, but the alley was only a foot in front of her. Her throat was dry as she took a painful, gulp, tiptoeing until she was right at the corner.

Petrified of what she might see, she was unsure if she could even look. The sounds were so clear now, and the man who was in some sort of danger was now yelling even louder than before.

Just a peek, she thought to herself. So she peeked around the corner, holding her short hair back so it wouldn't fall and catch the attention of whatever or whoever was around the corner.

Her pupils tightened, and so did all the muscles in her body, as she saw that the man who was yelling for help was on the ground, getting kicked and punched by a gang of four or five people. The girl couldn't see very clear, because it was dark and all of the figures were wearing black, blending in with the night. Cold fog surrounded the scene, but she could see the man on the ground's face covered in blood as his cries were muffled by the blood pouring from his mouth, his face contorted in pain as it got repeatedly kicked by the foot of one of the aggressors.

Then, she heard the curt sound of sharp metal scraping, and the glare of a knife seemed to hit her right in her eye; but the light that flooded her eyeball disappeared as the knife went into the side of the man. The dull, mushy sound of flesh being stabbed caused so much unsettlement in August's stomach that she audibly gasped, almost as if she was the one being stabbed.

She made a huge mistake.

Her gasp echoed throughout the alleyway. In that millisecond, she hoped that the sound of the now dead man's head hitting the concrete ground as he was pulled from life would cover up the sound of her gasp. She almost made another sound of relief as none of the figures turned towards her. But then the eyes of the one holding the now red and dripping knife bore right into her own.

In that millisecond, August felt like a rat trapped in a cage with a starving cat. She felt like a bleeding rat, and like the hungry cat was right in front of her. She felt like the only place she could run were the four walls of her metal cage, and that the cat was inevitable.

The green eyes of the hooded figure holding the knife were so light that they were even visible in the dark night, under the hood that prevented August from seeing the rest of their facial features. They were like cat eyes, staring right into her small, helpless rat eyes—ready to pounce.

"Hey!" the green eyes barked, causing the other hooded heads to perk up towards August. Their eyes also seared into her, but her eyes stayed on the cat eyes that felt as if they were digging that knife right into her own stomach, even from several yards away.

There was a delay between the sound of the four pairs of feet now scuffling towards her, and the sight of them doing so. Her ears failed her, but her eyes didn't. Everything was silent besides the sound of her own pounding heart as she turned and began to run away from the people now right on her tail.

"Get her!" yelled the familiar voice who she now knew as the cat.