In Your Dreams

Chapter Two

It had been a little over an hour since Sam had brought me to the frat party. The music pulsed around me, a steady beat that reverberated through the floor, but it did little to drown out the voice in my head—the one that whispered, he's not here.

Sam's voice broke through my thoughts, her eyes scanning the crowd. "So, what's the plan? You gonna stand here all night, or actually talk to someone?"

I forced a smile, lifting the cup to my lips, though the bitter taste of alcohol barely registered. "I don't know, maybe I'll just people-watch."

She rolled her eyes, nudging me with her elbow. "Come on, Ev. You need to get out of your head. Stop thinking so much and just... be here. In the moment."

In the moment. The words echoed, but they felt hollow. The problem wasn't that I was stuck in my head—the problem was that I couldn't get out of it. Everywhere I went, he was there, lurking in the corners of my mind, a shadow I couldn't escape.

Still, I nodded, trying to muster up some semblance of enthusiasm. "Yeah, you're right. I'll try."

Sam gave me a knowing smile before turning her attention to the group of guys by the keg, already deep in conversation. I sipped my drink again, letting my gaze wander over the room. The laughter, the carefree faces—it all felt so foreign, like I was watching through a glass wall, separated from the world.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

Not him, of course. It couldn't be. But for a split second, my heart lurched, and the cup slipped from my hand, spilling the contents onto the floor. He was standing near the far wall, tall and broad-shouldered, his face obscured by the dim lighting and the press of people around him. Something about the way he held himself—the tilt of his head, the way his hands rested casually in his pockets—sent a jolt of recognition through me.

I blinked, and just like that, the illusion shattered. It wasn't him. It was just another guy, another stranger who bore a passing resemblance to the faceless man who haunted my dreams. But the moment of recognition left me feeling raw, exposed.

I wiped my hands on my jeans, suddenly feeling the weight of the room pressing in on me. The noise, the heat—it was all too much. My chest tightened, and I took a step back, searching for a way out.

Sam was still talking to the guys, oblivious to my sudden panic. I didn't want to ruin her night—didn't want her to see how fragile I was. So, I mumbled something about needing air and slipped through the crowd, making my way outside.

The cool night air hit me like a slap, and I sucked in a deep breath, my pulse slowly beginning to steady. The sound of the party faded into the background, replaced by the distant hum of the city. I leaned against the railing of the porch, staring up at the stars, the weight of my isolation settling back over me.

Maybe I'm losing it, I thought, the breeze cooling the flush on my skin. I closed my eyes, pressing the heel of my hand to my forehead. The face I'd seen inside—it was just a trick of the dim lights. Nothing more. And yet, the unease clung to me like a second skin, a low hum that wouldn't fade.

The door behind me creaked open, and Sam's voice called out, "Ev? You good?"

I jerked away from the railing, spinning around to face her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed a breather."

She gave me a skeptical look, crossing her arms. "You always say that when you're not fine."

I forced a laugh. "I swear, I'm good. Just got overwhelmed for a sec."

Sam's gaze lingered on me, weighing whether to believe my words or not. Finally, she sighed, uncrossing her arms. "Alright, if you say so. But let's go back in, yeah? You disappearing out here makes me worry."