Sweet Little Nothing

I start shoving my way through the crowd, determined to make it to her, to explain, to save her.

She turns to flee, and like time itself has slowed down, we both notice the movie playing on a giant projector screen at the same time.

We're both frozen as our gazes meet. She looks so hurt, so broken, so utterly betrayed that, in this moment, I hate myself.

"Get the fuck out of my way!" I roar to the idiots blocking my path.

I don't make it more than two steps before Melanie and Summer stop me.

Melanie bats her eyes as she nods toward the screen. "I told you so."

It's then I realize, that somehow, these two were in on this.

"I will fucking ruin you," I sneer, leaning in close to make sure she hears every word, as well as the promise behind them.

When I look back to Emmy, she has this dead, vacant look in her eyes, and it instantly sets me on edge. But before I can make it to her, she turns and runs.

I feel like the biggest piece of shit on earth as I run after her, now violently shoving party-goers out of my way. Because, deep down, I know this is my fault.

If I wouldn't have agreed to help Rob, this wouldn't be happening. I told her I would protect her, and yet, I basically led her to slaughter.

I'm nearly to the door when Gabe steps into my path. Before I can get a single word out, his fist flies toward my face, crunching against my cheekbone on impact. "You sorry ass motherfucker! I told you! I told you I would kill you if you hurt her!"

I shake my head, despite the pain ricocheting through my skull. "It wasn't me! This isn't me."

"That's not you in that video?" he asks, even though we both already know the answer.

"That's me, but I'm not behind this."

"How convenient."

"Look, you can either help me find her or you can get the fuck out of my way."

Gabe looks ready to hit me again, but before he can, Zach appears out of nowhere and steps between us.

"Stop. Both of you, stop. Y'all can fight later, but right now we need to find Emmy.”

"Fuck." Gabe scrubs a hand over his face. "You're right."

"Let's go. Gabe, you check with Stella. I'll look on campus, and, Sterling, you check her dorm."

"You trust him to go there?" Gabe demands.

"I do," is all Zach says. "Now let's go."

We split up, going our separate ways, agreeing to check in every fifteen minutes.

I haul ass to my car, flinging open the driver's side door and slamming myself into the seat. "Why the fuck is the light on?" I mutter, mashing the start button. Only, nothing happens.

I jab my fingers into it again and again, my foot pressing the brake so hard it feels like it might punch straight through the floorboard.

But still, my engine doesn't start.

"Stupid fucking battery." It feels like the entire universe is conspiring against me.

I throw my door back open and grab my phone. I start to call Emmalyn, but see her phone sitting in my cup holder. My shoulders slump and defeat sits heavy on my chest. But I won't give up. Not on her, not ever.

I pull up the Uber app, but it's peak hours, and I don't have that kind of time to wait.

The drive here was about fifteen minutes, so maybe thirty on foot. I don't even think twice; I just start running. I would fucking crawl over hot coals if that's what it took to get to her right now.

By the time I reach her building, I'm a panting, sweaty mess, despite the chill in the air. My legs feel like jelly and my heart is like it's on the verge of stalling out.

I bang on the door before slamming my hand down onto the buzzer. "Geez, what's the—Sterling, are you okay?" asks Abigail, the redhead from the gym.

"Emmalyn. I need Emmalyn."

She eyes me curiously, more questions on the tip of her tongue, but I don't have time to waste. I have a gut feeling she's here.

I shove past her, bypassing the elevator, heading straight for the stairs.

"What's going on?" she asks, huffing as she struggles to keep up.

I beat on her door so hard my fist aches. "Emmalyn!"

"Sterling, this is...you can't do this. What is going on?"

"Emmalyn!" I try the knob. Locked.

I pound even harder, barely pausing to think through the consequences of my actions, before slamming my shoulder into the door.

Abigail screams as the wood splinters. I try to shove the door open, but something's blocking me. Which means she's here. She's fucking here.

I kick my foot into the small space between the door and jamb and make contact with something hard. A few more kicks, and I manage to move whatever she blocked the door with out of the way.