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 buzzes with energy, the flashing, multicolored lights illuminating the space in a vibrant blur of reds, blues, and purples. It is the kind of lighting that transforms even the most mundane living room into a chaotic dance floor.

Every surface is occupied—teenagers draped across couches with red plastic cups in hand, some of them tipping their heads back for shots, while others huddle in groups, snorting lines of suspicious white powder off coffee tables. In darker corners, couples are entangled in each other, oblivious to the world, lost in their own passion. The music thuds 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 can think of only one thing: hiding the bruises and cuts that litter her legs and hands. Every time someone glances her way, her heart races, and she instinctively tugs her sleeves down further, praying no one will notice. The reminders of her fight with her mother are 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 is Monday—the start of Fall Break—and her mother has finally left on a business trip that will last almost a month. It is a strange kind of relief, the temporary freedom from her mother's presence hanging over her like a fragile shield. But even as she moves through Amber's house, the lingering ache of what has happened gnaws at her, making it hard to focus.

Tara moves cautiously through Amber's house, each step measured and deliberate as she navigates the familiar layout. The house, with its creaking floorboards and dimly lit hallways, is almost identical to how she remembers it from the original timeline. The familiarity is unsettling, bringing with it a flood of memories—some dark, others even darker.

Every corner, every doorway seems to whisper of future events that haven't yet unfolded in this timeline, but that Tara knows are all too real. She is here for a reason: to find out where Amber stands in the terrifying plan that is slowly unfurling.

Had Amber already decided to align herself with Richie? Is 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 consume Tara as she moves through the upstairs hallway, her mind spinning with possibilities and dread. Distracted by her thoughts, she doesn't notice how close she is to Amber's room until she accidentally bumps into the door. The sound is soft, but in the eerie quiet of the second floor, it seems to echo like a gunshot. She freezes, her breath catching in her throat, and quickly looks around. Fortunately, the loud music and chatter from the party downstairs drowns out any noise she might have made. The floor creaks beneath her as she stands still, the pulse in her ears thundering with every heartbeat.