Entanglement of Time

Chapter 2: To Love Thy Enemy

Summary: Tara, while looking around Amber's house at a party Amber hosted, realizes she loves the soon-to-be-Ghostface, if she doesn't get through to Amber. (You get to sit here and read as Tara's gay ass starts quite literally simping for Amber. There's going to be some pining in this story that some of you might get a bit upset over, but I can confirm that Tamber will fuck eventually. Wattpad, don't strike me for writing that, both are 18 in this fic. Yes, I have read the guidelines, both of them are around the legal age of consent, I swear). 

⚠: Descriptions of the aftermath of abuse, underage drinking, drug use, the usual shit that happens at wild parties in high school. 

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The house buzzed with energy, the flashing, multicolored lights illuminating the space in a vibrant blur of reds, blues, and purples. It was the kind of lighting that transformed even the most mundane living room into a chaotic dance floor. Every surface was occupied—teenagers draped across couches with red plastic cups in hand, some of them tipping their heads back for shots, while others huddled in groups, snorting lines of suspicious white powder off coffee tables. In darker corners, couples were entangled in each other, oblivious to the world, lost in their own passion. The music thudded loudly from the speakers, a constant bassline vibrating through the floor, the walls, and every bone in Tara's body. 

Despite the noise, the flashing lights, and the chaotic atmosphere, Tara could think of only one thing: hiding the bruises and cuts that littered her legs and hands. Every time someone glanced her way, her heart raced, and she instinctively tugged her sleeves down further, praying no one would notice. The reminders of her fight with her mother were etched into her skin, still raw and fresh. That Friday night, her mother had exploded into one of her drunken rages, and the argument had escalated quickly, ending with her mother hitting her. The shards from the smashed wine bottles had left deep, jagged cuts on Tara's hands and legs when she had been forced to clean up the mess. She still felt the sting in her palms when she squeezed them too tightly. 

But today, it was Monday—the start of Fall Break—and her mother had finally left on a business trip that would last almost a month. It was a strange kind of relief, the temporary freedom from her mother's presence hanging over her like a fragile shield. But even as she moved through Amber's house, the lingering ache of what had happened gnawed at her, making it hard to focus. 

Tara moved cautiously through Amber's house, each step measured and deliberate as she navigated the familiar layout. The house, with its creaking floorboards and dimly lit hallways, was almost identical to how she remembered it from the original timeline. The familiarity was unsettling, bringing with it a flood of memories—some dark, others even darker. Every corner, every doorway seemed to whisper of future events that hadn't yet unfolded in this timeline, but that Tara knew were all too real. She was here for a reason, to find out where Amber stood in the terrifying plan that was slowly unfurling. Had Amber already decided to align herself with Richie? Was she already on the path to becoming Ghostface? Had the costume—the symbol of their impending doom—already found its way into this house? 

These thoughts consumed Tara as she moved through the upstairs hallway, her mind spinning with possibilities and dread. Distracted by her thoughts, she didn't notice how close she was to Amber's room until she accidentally bumped into the door. The sound was soft, but in the eerie quiet of the second floor, it seemed to echo like a gunshot. She froze, her breath catching in her throat, and quickly looked around. Fortunately, the loud music and chatter from the party downstairs drowned out any noise she might have made. The floor creaked beneath her as she stood still, the pulse in her ears thundering with every heartbeat. 

Tara's gaze settled on the door to Amber's room. She stared at it for a moment, her mind racing. Why was she so drawn to this room? She had been in Amber's room many times before, but something about it tonight felt different, more ominous. She reached out hesitantly, gripping the doorknob with trembling fingers, and slowly turned it, opening the door just enough to peek inside. The room was pitch dark, a stark contrast to the rest of the house, and was awash in colorful party lights. Did Amber always keep her room this dark during parties? Tara couldn't remember. The memories of Amber's parties were a blur, tainted by the innocence of their childhood and the complexities of their teenage years. The only other times she had been in this room were years ago, back when they were just kids playing make-believe or doing homework together.