It started with a "small" argument in the car.

The bass from the party thumps through the walls as you adjust your dress in the bathroom mirror. You can still hear Anakin's voice in your head—"It's not a big deal, they're just friends"—while the memory of that cheerleader practically sitting in his lap at the last game burns fresh in your mind.

You take a deep breath, smoothing your hair before stepping back into the chaos of the party. The air is thick with the smell of citrus punch and teenaged hormones. Laughter and music blend into a dull roar as you scan the crowd, spotting Anakin near the keg with his football buddies.

Instead of going to him, you head for the opposite corner where a group of guys from your English class are gathered. You catch Kyle's eye and smile, letting him pull you into their circle.

"There you are," he grins, passing you a red cup. "We were just talking about that essay—you totally saved us with those notes."

Over Kyle's shoulder, you catch Anakin staring. His jaw is tight, knuckles white around his own cup. Perfect.

You laugh loudly at something Jason says, letting your hand rest lightly on his arm as you tilt your head back. The corner of your mouth lifts as you notice Anakin set his drink down hard enough to slosh liquid over the rim.

"Hey, babe," his voice cuts through the noise as he appears beside you, draping an arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer. You can feel the tension in his muscles. "Think it's time for us to leave."