Chapter 11 - Party Chaos ♡︎

The sun hadn't completely dipped yet, leaving the lake house yard bathed in that golden glow that stretched across the trees and reflected off the water. The music thumped from speakers set up near the porch, everyone from Silver Falls scattered around with red cups in hand, some roughhousing near the dock while others sprawled in lawn chairs. It wasn't nighttime yet, but the air buzzed with the kind of reckless energy that promised it would get wilder once the sun finally went down.

Cole kept a steady hand on the small of Olive's back as he guided her through the crowd, his tall frame parting the way like it was the easiest thing in the world. Olive, however, felt every glance that landed on her, each one making her shrink further into herself. She tugged nervously at the bow in her hair, her fingers tightening on the ribbon as though it might keep her grounded. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest—partly from the noise, partly from the number of strangers, but mostly from being so close to Cole when she still couldn't fully make sense of him.

When they reached a cluster of guys near the back of the house, Cole stopped, clapped one of them on the shoulder, and grinned. "Guys, this is Olive," he announced with that half-smile of his, the one that made it seem like he was both teasing and serious at the same time. Olive immediately fidgeted under the attention, her voice trapped somewhere in her throat. She gave the tiniest nod of acknowledgment, her eyes darting everywhere but at them.

"Olive, huh?" Dylan spoke up, leaning against the railing with a cup in his hand. He was broad-shouldered, sun-tanned, and already carried himself like he owned the place. His hair was tousled in a way that looked intentional, and when he smiled, it was easy and confident. "I'm Dylan—new quarterback since Cole here..." He trailed off, glancing at Cole with a kind of respect that also carried the weight of unspoken history. "...retired, let's call it."

Cole smirked faintly, but his jaw tightened for a split second, and Olive noticed. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words tangled up inside her. She only managed to fidget with her sleeves and give Dylan a shy, barely audible, "Hi."

Dylan chuckled, not unkindly, and raised his cup toward her. "Cute," he said casually, though Olive flushed and ducked her head, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.

Cole immediately cut in, his tone firm but light. "Ease up, Dylan." His hand shifted slightly against Olive's back, as if reminding her he was right there.

Olive's chest tightened with nerves, but she couldn't help stealing a small glance at Cole, the smallest flicker of relief washing through her when she realized he was shielding her, whether she asked for it or not.

But that flicker vanished the moment she caught sight of Erin.

Erin stood a few feet away, leaning against the side of the porch with her arms crossed and her hair falling in perfect waves around her shoulders. Her eyes were sharp, her lips curled in a disdainful half-smile as she took in the scene. She didn't say a word—yet—but the way she looked Olive up and down spoke volumes. The scoff she let out was loud enough for Olive to hear over the chatter, deliberate and cutting.

Olive froze, her stomach knotting, her hands gripping her sleeves tighter. She didn't have to know Erin to understand the message: you don't belong here, and you don't belong next to him.

Cole noticed too. His eyes flicked toward Erin briefly, then back down to Olive. He leaned closer, his voice low, meant only for her. "Ignore it, tiny. She's not worth your energy."

Olive wanted to believe him, but her throat tightened, and she could barely breathe past the embarrassment. Every laugh from the boys, every glance from the crowd, every shift in Erin's stance—it all made her want to shrink smaller and smaller until she disappeared completely.

Cole didn't let her, though. His hand didn't leave her back, and when Dylan tried to rope him into some story about practice, Cole kept her tucked against his side like she was meant to be there.

The fire pit was already crackling by the time Erin pushed herself off the porch and sauntered over to where Cole and Olive were standing with Dylan and the others. Her smirk was deliberate, her eyes flicking between Cole and Olive before settling squarely on Olive with the kind of weight that made Olive's stomach twist. Erin twirled a strand of hair around her finger and announced, loud enough for the small crowd nearby to turn their heads, "Let's play Truth or Dare. Everyone knows the rules."

Cole narrowed his eyes at her, his jaw tightening as he shot her a look that screamed don't start this. But Erin just shrugged, feigning innocence as she tipped her chin up. "What? It's a party. It's fun."

Olive blinked rapidly, her hands fidgeting with the ends of her sleeves. She hated not knowing what was going on, hated being dropped into situations she couldn't prepare for. Her voice was small when she leaned toward Cole and whispered, "W-what... what are the rules?"

Erin's smug expression deepened, and she tilted her head, savoring the moment. "If you refuse," she explained slowly, her tone dripping with superiority, "you have to kiss the person sitting next to you." Her gaze slid pointedly to Cole and then back to Olive, her meaning sharp enough to make Olive's breath catch.

The group laughed, some already intrigued by the tension Erin had just introduced. A few of the boys grabbed drinks and started heading toward the fire pit, drawn in by the promise of entertainment. The golden light of evening had dimmed into the soft blues of twilight, and the firelight flickered against their faces as chairs scraped against the dirt and people settled in. The air carried the faint smell of smoke and beer, the atmosphere both exciting and suffocating.

Cole sighed heavily, his hand brushing against Olive's arm as if to anchor her. He leaned down so only she could hear him, his voice steady but quiet. "Don't worry, Tiny. I'm not gonna let them take it too far with you." His green eyes caught hers for a second, softer than she'd ever seen them, and though her chest tightened with nerves, a flicker of warmth snuck through.

Olive nodded quickly, but the pit in her stomach only grew as everyone gathered, laughter and chatter echoing in the night air. She perched on the edge of a chair near Cole, her teddy bear-like bow still perfectly tied in her hair, making her look even smaller and more out of place among the loud, confident crowd. She could already feel Erin's eyes boring into her from across the fire pit, that smug smile practically daring her to falter.

Cole sat close enough that his shoulder brushed hers, his arm draped casually across the back of her chair in a gesture that seemed protective but also territorial. Olive's heart raced at the contact, her mind spinning as she whispered a soft prayer to herself that she wouldn't be chosen first.

But Erin, of course, had other plans.___

The chairs around the fire pit creaked as people settled in, the flickering flames casting long, restless shadows over the group. A half-empty bottle of cheap vodka was passed around, the clear liquid catching the light in a way that made Olive's stomach twist with unease. Laughter bubbled across the circle as someone tossed out an old party rule, and then Erin, with her arms folded confidently across her chest, leaned forward to make her amendment.

"Alright, since some people here are new," Erin said, her eyes pointed like arrows at Olive, "let's make sure we're all on the same page. Before anyone answers Truth or Dare, they take a shot." Her voice was casual, but the smirk tugging at her lips was anything but.

The group cheered at the idea, lifting their red plastic cups and bottles in agreement. Olive's heart sank, her hands curling into the soft fabric of her skirt as if she could hide inside it. She'd never had more than a sip of wine at a family holiday. The thought of taking an actual shot in front of all these people, of losing control, made her throat close up with fear.

She swallowed hard, her voice catching in her chest. She leaned slightly toward Cole, her big eyes wide with panic. "I-I've never... I don't..."

Cole's jaw tightened. He leaned down, his voice low and rough but steady, meant only for her. "Tiny, you don't have to. Forget Erin—ignore her rules. If you don't want to drink, you don't." There was something firm in the way he said it, protective, as though he was ready to put himself between her and everyone else in that circle if he had to.

But Erin wasn't about to let the moment slide. She leaned forward, her smile sharp, her eyes glittering with smug delight. "Actually, she does. It's part of the game. No exceptions." She tilted her head, practically savoring Olive's discomfort. "Unless..." She paused, her smirk widening. "You don't want to fit in. You do want to fit in, don't you?"

The circle went quiet for a moment, the fire crackling in the center, waiting for Olive's answer. Cole's hand curled into a fist on the arm of his chair, and he opened his mouth, ready to shut Erin down. But before he could, Olive's small voice cut through the tension.

"I-I'll do it," she whispered, the words trembling, her eyes locked on her lap. Her fingers twisted together nervously, but she forced the words out louder the second time, like she needed to prove something. "I'll drink."

Cole's head snapped toward her in disbelief, his brows furrowing, his lips parting as if he couldn't understand why she'd just agreed. He looked like he wanted to argue, to stop her, but Olive's wide, nervous expression told him this wasn't just about a game—it was about not being humiliated, not standing out as the fragile outsider.

The bottle passed into her hands, its weight heavier than she'd imagined. Her palms were clammy against the glass. She hesitated, staring down at it like it might bite her.

From her other side, Dylan leaned in, the new quarterback's smile easy and teasing, his elbow nudging her lightly. "That's the spirit," he chuckled, reaching out to give her arm a quick rub as if she needed encouragement. "Don't worry, it's not that bad."

Olive flinched at his touch, heat flooding her cheeks. She glanced quickly at Cole, who was glaring so hard at Dylan that the firelight almost seemed to catch in his eyes. Cole's jaw flexed, and his fingers tightened around the cup in his own hand, but he didn't say anything—not yet.

Olive's hands shook as she lifted the cup, her lashes lowering as she whispered something to herself, maybe a little prayer, before raising it toward her lips.

Her hands trembling so badly that the firelight shimmered off the glass. She'd never done this before, never even thought about doing this before, but now all eyes were on her and her chest ached with the weight of their expectations. The smell of alcohol stung her nose, sharp and sour, but she tilted her head back anyway, closing her eyes tightly as the liquid burned down her throat.

It was like swallowing fire. The taste was bitter and harsh, searing all the way down until her stomach clenched in revolt. She gagged, her eyes watering as she coughed against the burn, for one terrifying second certain she was going to throw it right back up in front of everyone. But somehow, through sheer willpower and desperation not to embarrass herself, she forced it down, her small body trembling as she lowered the bottle.

The group erupted in cheers and claps, the noise echoing around the fire pit. Dylan whistled, someone else banged their bottle against their chair, and Olive flushed scarlet, ducking her head into her sweater sleeves.

Erin, however, wasn't impressed. She leaned forward, crossing her legs deliberately as she locked eyes on Olive, her smile sweet but predatory. "Alright," she said smoothly, her voice carrying over the noise, "Truth or Dare?"

Olive froze, her breath catching, but then her lips parted and a shaky little word slipped out. "T-truth." She couldn't even imagine what a dare might involve—not tonight, not with so many strangers watching.

Erin's smirk sharpened, her gaze cutting sideways to Cole before snapping back to Olive. "So," she purred, tilting her head like a cat toying with a mouse, "did you know that Cole and Jackie have... history?" The way she dragged the word out, heavy with implication, was designed to sting, to plant doubt, to tear at something fragile between Olive and her best friend.

The group went quiet for a beat, several pairs of eyes darting to Cole, waiting for his reaction. Cole's shoulders stiffened, his jaw clenching, his hand flexing on his knee as he shot Erin a glare that promised he'd had enough.

Olive's eyes widened slightly, her fingers clutching at the edge of her skirt. She blinked a few times, then nodded softly, her voice quiet but clear enough to carry. "Y-yes. I knew. Jackie told me." Her lips curved into a small, sincere smile, her eyes gentle in the firelight. "We're best friends. We tell each other everything."

For a moment, silence lingered, broken only by the snap and pop of the firewood. Erin had clearly expected more—a gasp, a wide-eyed look of betrayal, maybe even Olive's fragile voice cracking under the weight of the revelation. Instead, Olive's simple honesty, paired with the unwavering sweetness of her expression, left Erin blinking in faint surprise.

Erin leaned back slowly, masking her irritation with a hum and a tight-lipped smile. "Fine," she said with a shrug, trying to sound unaffected. But there was a flash of something in her eyes—disappointment, even annoyance—that she hadn't been able to shake Olive so easily.