Panic flares in my chest, my body locking up. It’s too much, too close, too familiar. I try to step away but his grip tightens further, almost bruising.
My eyes flash back to a different pair of hands, equally as rough, gripping my hips and grinding into my ass.
“You smell good.” River presses his erection into me.
“Don’t,” I gasp, barely audible. I try to jerk away from him.
He doesn’t hear me—or doesn’t want to.
“Hey,” I snap louder, twisting away hard enough to make him stumble. “Get the hell off me.”
“Relax, baby,” River slurs, his hands moving up and down my body, squeezing me in different places. “We’re dancing.” He grabs my ass hard.
“I said no,” I bite out, louder this time. My voice shakes, but it doesn’t break. “Back. Off.” I push his hands off me.
One second River’s in my space, the next, he’s not. Luca wedges himself between us with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Yo, River,” he says, light and easy, but his body is steel. “Didn’t your mom ever teach you whatnomeans?”
River blinks, frowning. “We were just dancing, dude. Fuck off.”
“Were you?” Luca tilts his head. “Because it looked like you were about half a second from catching a fist to the jaw.”
There’s something coiled behind Luca’s smile. Something dangerous.
“Fuck. Off.” River steps up to Luca.
“No.” Luca puffs his chest, staring down at River. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” River sneers.
“See, the thing is… this pretty girlismy business.”
That’s all it takes. River shoves Luca back, and Luca shifts, pushing me out of the way. When he turns back around, River swings. Sloppy but fast.
Luca ducks, quick and sharp and counters with a clean shot to River’s ribs. They crash into a table. Cups clatter to the floor, someone screams.
The music stutters, students shout and scramble out of the way. Riverlaunches again, this time grabbing Luca’s collar, and they slam into the wall near the punch table. Luca grunts but doesn’t back down. He twists free, drives his elbow into River’s side, and shoves him hard enough to stagger back into the crowd.
“Stop!” I yell, the sound tearing out of me before I even think about it.
But they don’t. They’re locked in it now—adrenaline, pride, maybe something uglier underneath. My stomach churns. The lights are too bright. The bass too loud. It feels like the whole room is spinning.
“Luca!” I say again, louder this time, panic rising in my throat. “Stop. Please.”
That gets through. His head snaps toward me. Just for a second.
It’s all River needs.
He catches Luca across the jaw with a lucky shot. Luca stumbles, blood blooming at the corner of his mouth.
I gasp, hands covering my mouth.
But Luca straightens—wipes the blood with the back of his hand—and looks at River with a dark, bloodthirsty, smile.
Then faculty storms in. Two teachers push between them, one shouting orders. The crowd parts with a collective breath.
River shouts something I don’t catch as they drag him back. Luca doesn’t answer. He just watches me.
