Tatum, the only daughter of Gale Weathers and Dewey Riley, couldn't wait to leave the horrors of Woodsboro behind and set out for New York City with her surviving friends.
Despite her hopes of starting anew, Tate soon finds herself face to face wit...
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ETHAN LEADS TATUM TO HIS DORM ROOM, FEELING A SENSE OF NERVOUSNESS AS HE UNLOCKS THE DOOR. He's never brought anyone here before, and he's not sure what she'll think of the place. It's a fucking dorm, a boys's one too, so it obviously isn't that great.
When they enter, they're greeted with a mess of clothes and empty takeout containers on Chad's side of the room.
"Sorry about the mess," Ethan says, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"It's okay," Tatum responds, looking around the room with interest.
Ethan leads her to his side of the room, which is clean and organized. He's always been a stickler for cleanliness, thanks to his father.
Wayne had always been tough on him, tougher than on Richie and Quinn, instilling a sense of discipline and order in everything he did. Growing up, he had to clean, cook, and fix things, not break them. There was no room for error in his father's eyes, and any mistake was met with harsh consequences.
No eating, no drinking, no using the bathroom for as many hours as his father saw fit. Once, when he was nine, he was sent outside during a huge storm because he'd forgotten to close a cabinet. He stood there all night, no shoes, no jacket, only in his underwear. He got pneumonia and had to stay at the hospital for three weeks.
"I have some clean clothes you can borrow," he offers, opening his dresser drawer and pulling out a clean towel, flannel, and pair of pants. "I hope they'll fit."
"Thanks," Tatum says, taking the clothes from him. "I appreciate it."
Ethan nods, feeling a sense of satisfaction that he can help her in some way. She looks beautiful with the blood on her face, a piece of art live and in color.
He leads Tatum down the hall and points to the bathroom door. "I'll be right out here if you need anything," he says, feeling a bit awkward.
Tatum hesitates before speaking up. "Can you come with me? Not, like, in a weird way. I mean, you know, stand watch. Guard the room or whatever. I'm not really in the mood to go full Marion Crane," she says, half-jokingly.
Ethan nods, understanding her concern for safety. "Of course, I'll come with you," he says, following her into the bathroom.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he was the big bad wolf, watching over little red riding hood. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. He had always been the outsider, the one who didn't quite fit in, and now he was the protector.
As Tatum gets undressed, Ethan turns his back, facing the door to make sure nobody walks in on them. He hears the sound of the shower turning on and takes a deep breath, realizing how close they are in such a small space.
He tries to keep himself occupied, but his mind wanders. He is here to protect her, make sure she feels safe. But his mind keeps drifting back to her naked body behind the thin veil of the shower curtain.
