The second shot goes down and the world tilts, steadies, tilts again. The edges blur even more, and I grip the bar to keep myself upright.
I should find Emma. Should get some water. Should stop drinking.
I turn to head back toward where we were standing, and that's when it happens.
Hands on my waist.
I freeze.
I can't move, can't breathe, can't do anything except stand there while someone's hands grip my hips from behind, pulling me against them. The contact is firm, possessive,unwanted.
"There you are," a male voice says in my ear. "Let's dance."
The music fades.Everythingfades except the pressure of his hands on my body and the way he's moving against me like he has every right to touch me.
I can't move.
Can't fight.
Can't scream.
It’s just like before. Frozen like the pathetic coward I am.
"Get off her."
Emma's voice cuts through the panic. She's here suddenly, shoving between us, physically pushing the guy back. "She's not interested. Leave."
The guy holds up his hands, laughing like this is all some big joke. "We were just dancing."
"She doesn't want to dance. Go away." Emma's voice is sharp, protective, and she positions herself between him and me like a shield.
He disappears into the crowd, still laughing, and Emma grabs my arm. "Come on. We're leaving."
She pulls me toward the exit, and I let her, my legs moving on autopilot. The cold air outside hits my face like a slap, and Igulp it down, trying to stop the shaking that's taken over my entire body.
"Maya." Emma's hands are on my shoulders, gentle but firm. "Look at me."
I can't, can't look at her without falling apart.
"We're going home. Come on."
The drive back is silent. I press my forehead against the cold window and focus on counting streetlights.One. Two. Three.Anything to not think about those hands on me, that voice in my ear, the way I just stood there and let it happen.
Emma parks in the driveway and kills the engine. Neither of us moves.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Her voice is quiet, careful.
"I'm fine."
"Maya—"
"I'm fine, Emma. I just had too much to drink too fast. I'm good."
She doesn't believe me. I can see it in her face when I finally look at her. But she doesn't push, just nods, and we head inside.
"I'm going to bed," I say, already heading for the stairs.
"Okay. But Maya? If you need to talk?—"
