Twisted Fates

Spirialing

I held my phone between my shoulder and ear as I locked the door to my apartment. "So, when exactly are you planning to visit?"

Mom's voice came through the line, rushed but still warm, like always. "I'm not sure yet, sweetie. The press tour for the book has been... overwhelming, to say the least. But I'm trying to carve out a few days."

I sighed, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Don't rush on my account. I know how much you love being in the spotlight."

"Oh, don't start," she said, laughing lightly. "But I am looking forward to seeing you. Maybe next weekend, if the schedule clears up. How's school? Are you making friends?"

"Yeah," I said quickly, not really wanting to dive into the mess that was my life. "It's fine. You'll have fun when you visit."

There was a pause. "Sofia... is everything okay?"

"Of course," I said, forcing my voice to sound cheerful. "Just the usual college stress. Nothing to worry about."

She hesitated like she wanted to press further but decided against it. "Alright, sweetheart. I'll let you know once I've finalized plans. Love you."

"Love you too," I said, hanging up and letting out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

As I headed back to my apartment, I was so lost in thought I almost didn't notice Ethan walking toward me until we were practically face-to-face.

"Oh, hi!" I said, my cheeks instantly heating up. Of course, I had to run into him now, looking like this.

"Hey," he said, that easy smile of his making my stomach flip.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "About the other night..." I trailed off, feeling embarrassment creeping up my neck.

"It's fine," he said, brushing it off with a laugh. "I figured your neighbor just has... strong opinions."

"Strong opinions is putting it mildly," I muttered, crossing my arms. "But I'm sorry it ended that way. You didn't deserve to deal with that."

"Don't worry about it," he said, his smile not fading. "Maybe we can try again sometime?"

I nodded, unable to stop myself from smiling back. "Yeah, I'd like that."

We said our goodbyes, and as I walked back to my apartment, I couldn't help but feel lighter. Maybe the day wasn't going to be so bad after all.

But that optimism didn't last long.

A few hours later, my phone buzzed with a call from my friends.

"Party tonight," Sam said the moment I picked up. "You're coming. No excuses."

"I don't know..." I started, glancing at my stack of textbooks.

"Stop it. You need a night out," she interrupted. "Be ready by eight."

Before I could argue, she hung up.

The party was already in full swing by the time we arrived, the music loud enough to rattle the windows. I wasn't much of a drinker, but tonight I decided to let loose a little. I needed it.

The night blurred together—music, laughter, and way too many drinks. Before I knew it, I was on a table, dancing and yelling along to some throwback song.

That's when I felt a firm grip on my arm, pulling me down.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I blinked, trying to focus on the face in front of me. Noah. Of course, it had to be him.

"Let go of me," I slurred, yanking my arm free.

"You're making a fool of yourself," he said, his voice low but sharp.

"Why do you care?" I shot back, my voice cracking. "You didn't care in New York."

The words spilled out before I could stop them, and I felt the tears coming fast and hard.

Noah's expression shifted, the usual smugness gone. He didn't say anything, just stood there, watching me crumble.

"You ruined everything," I said, my voice shaking as I shoved him weakly.

He caught my wrists, holding them gently as I sobbed. I hated how quiet he was, how he just let me fall apart without saying a word.

And then, to make it worse, I felt my stomach turn.

"Oh, no," I mumbled, stumbling back.

He was quick, grabbing a trash can and shoving it in front of me just in time. I didn't have the energy to be embarrassed as I threw up, my head spinning.

"Come on," he said softly, his tone different from before.

I barely registered him calling someone, and before I knew it, I was being led outside to a sleek black limo.

"No," I said, shaking my head weakly. "I'm not taking your stupid rich-boy ride."

"You don't have a choice," he said, his voice firm but calm.

I tried to argue, but I didn't have the strength. The next thing I knew, I was in the limo, leaning against Noah as the world around me blurred.

When I woke up the next morning, my head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. I groaned, squinting at the light streaming through the window.

How did I get here?

The memories of the party were hazy at best, and the more I tried to piece them together, the worse my headache got.

Deciding coffee and carbs were the only things that could save me, I threw on some clothes and headed to the café.

The smell of fresh coffee and warm pastries hit me the moment I walked in, and I ordered a croissant and a large coffee before settling at a table by the window.

I stared out at the street, the cup warm in my hands, trying to make sense of everything.

Noah's face flashed in my mind, his expression uncharacteristically soft as he helped me last night.

No. I wasn't going to think about him. Not now.

I took a sip of my coffee, letting the bitterness ground me, and tried to focus on anything else. But even as I sat there, pretending to be alone with my thoughts, I couldn't shake the feeling that the storm between me and Noah was far from over.