Fallout Dreams

ava 09

       

you can do this. nolan rolled his knuckles on the kitchen counter and bounced his heel against the cupboard. get her alone, find the real mia, tell her how you feel.

nolan had refused every escape offered to him; spiked tea from gari-jean, mushrooms from dean, and beer from everyone who knew gary was his friend. the only chemical he wanted was the occasional dopamine rush from mia lane... but as far as he could tell, the real mia wasn't at the party.

the girl who did show—the mia imposter—was dancing drunk in the spotlight of her newest peers, her talent for witty rapport wasted on sorority gossip, celebrity news, and spoken text acronyms like, "o.m.G, gari!" and, "w.t.F, dylan?" and, "i'm about to p.t.f.O."

get her alone, nolan repeated, find the real mia. tell her how you feel.

the smorgasbord of substances was rapidly enhancing the evening's ominous vibe. twenty minutes ago nolan watched a girl in a black-painted pony tail partake in a palmful of dean's "pizza toppings." now she was clawing at her boyfriend's v-neck and begging him to get her out of here. one of gary's brothers, six-foot-six, stood inches from the wall outside ava's room, rocking gently on his heels and gazing into the endless oblivion of white brick.

dean—indifferent to the subtle chaos he'd been creating—stood by the window and sucked alcohol from a plastic hose attached to a guy wearing a gas mask.

focus, nolan, he told himself. he knuckled the tile, propped himself from the counter, pushed his way into the circle around the imposter-mia, and squeezed her shoulder. "hey. can we get outta here for a bit?"

she turned, found his eyes, and—in a split second of genuine concern—showed him the real mia. "i—"

"FUCK IT," said dean from the window. "I'M GOING IN."

mia's attention—the whole room's attention—turned to dean as he stomped to the back door.

"WHO WANTS TO GO ON A HUNT?"

the party erupted with sloppy laughter and egged him on with drunken cheers. "i'm in!" shouted a frat kid. "my shotgun's in the truck!" yelled another. two more abandoned their girlfriends and rushed through the kitchen.

"oh. my. god." mia said, her cheeks curling with the pressure of a wicked smile.

"this is stupid..." nolan said, then raised his voice, "dean! do not leave this house!" but his words were lost in the uproar.

gari-jean pushed passed him. "you need a drink', dude," she said, then followed the boys outside.

* * *

it didn't matter which way ava turned, she could feel jeff on her back.

paranoia slithered up her spine as she shouldered the green door and plunged into the black mass of gyrating bodies in a hopeless attempt to shake her ex... but he was persistent.

he was hunting her.

ava looked for mia, for nolan, for gari-jean or anyone else who would stand up to jeff and send him home... but the drugs tightened their grip. she wanted to barf the mushrooms into the toilet and flush 'em down the house's throat so IT could start tripping; so it could see HER as the demon instead of the other way around.

gari-jean was no longer giving tours of her bedroom so ava bolted inside, slammed the door with a flutter of caution tape, and locked it behind her. "keep him out, keep him out, keep him out," she prayed aloud.

suddenly, jeff was there, standing across her room in the open bathroom door, hair wet and curled atop his head, leather sleeves hiked past his wrists. "i've been trying, ave."