ETHAN FOUND HIMSELF LOST IN THOUGHT AS HE WALKED ALONGSIDE CHAD AND TATUM, THEIR CONVERSATION BARELY REGISTERING IN HIS MIND. He couldn't help but feel curious about Tatum, intrigued by the contrast between her messy room and her lively personality on the street.
"Hey, you guys excited for the party?" Chad asked, breaking Ethan out of his thoughts.
Tatum let out a small laugh. "Are you kidding me? I'm fucking pumped, bro."
Ethan couldn't help but notice the slight edge to Tatum's voice, a hint of bitterness that belied her outward enthusiasm. "Are you really?" he asked, unable to resist the urge to probe a little deeper.
Tatum turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "What, you don't like parties?"
"It's not that," Ethan replied. "I just get the feeling that you're not as into them as you let on."
Tatum shrugged. "Maybe I'm not. But it's not like I have anything better to do."
Ethan's curiosity was piqued even more. He couldn't help but wonder what was really going on in Tatum's head, beneath the surface.
As they approached the building where the party was being held, Tatum's phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket and quickly scanned the message.
"Fuck," she muttered under her breath.
"What's up?" Chad asked, noticing her sudden change in demeanor.
Tatum hesitated for a moment before replying. "It's my mom. She won't stop calling and texting me."
Ethan could see the conflict in Tatum's eyes, the inner battle between ignoring her mother's attempts to reach out and feeling guilty for doing so.
"Maybe you should answer her," Ethan suggested. "At least let her know you're okay."
Tatum glared at him. "What the fuck do you know about it?"
Ethan felt a pang of regret for overstepping his bounds. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"It's fine," Tatum interrupted, her voice softer now. "I just...I don't know. It's complicated."
Chad gave Tatum a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. Let's just go have some fun."
As they entered the building, the sound of music and chatter grew louder. Tara, Mindy, and Anika were already there, dressed in their costumes and sipping on drinks.
"Hey guys!" Tara called out as they approached. "You made it!"
Ethan couldn't help but notice the way Tara's eyes lingered on Chad, a hint of longing in her gaze. He wondered if Chad had picked up on it too.
The group settled in, chatting and drinking and laughing as the party raged on around them. Ethan couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, a feeling that something was off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he couldn't shake the feeling.
As the night wore on, Ethan found himself growing increasingly anxious. He watched as Tatum downed drink after drink, her smile growing more forced with each one. He watched as Chad flirted with random girls, completely oblivious to the way Tara was eyeing him from across the room. And he watched as Anika and Mindy grew more and more distant, lost in their own thoughts.
Ethan was lost in his thoughts himself when Tatum, whom he didn't even realize had gotten close, suddenly turned to him and asked, "So, Ethan, what's your deal? You seem pretty quiet."
He was taken aback by the sudden attention, but he quickly composed himself and replied, "Oh, I'm just not used to being in such a big city. It's overwhelming."
Tatum raised an eyebrow. "Really? You're from California, aren't you?"
"Yeah, but not Los Angeles. It's different here."
Ethan's heart sank as he realized how drunk and possibly high Tatum was. Her eyes were bloodshot, her movements unsteady, and her speech slurred. He couldn't believe that just a few minutes ago, she was having such a lively conversation with Chad. Now, she could barely stand up straight.
He wanted to help her, but he didn't know how. He had never been in this situation before. He didn't want to seem judgmental, but he also didn't want to enable her behavior. He wondered if he should say something to Chad, but he didn't want to create tension between them. At least, not now.
He had to stick to the fucking plan.
"Hey, Ethan," Tatum slurred, leaning into him. "Do you know what I really want right now?"
"What's that?" Ethan asked, trying to keep her steady.
"I want to dance," she said, her words slightly slurred.
"Uh, maybe we should get you some water first," Ethan said, looking at Chad for backup. Where the fuck was he?
But Tatum just laughed and started swaying to the music playing in the background. Ethan could tell she was enjoying herself, but it almost didn't feel real.
"Tatum, are you okay?" Ethan asked, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady her.
"I'm fine, Ethan," Tatum said, waving her hand dismissively. "I just want to have some fun, okay? I don't need anyone to take care of me."
Ethan nodded, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
"You know, I bet you're a really good dancer," Tatum said, grinning at him. "Why don't you show us what you've got?"
Ethan chuckled, feeling a bit self-conscious. "I'm not really much of a dancer."
But Tatum wasn't having it. She grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor, laughing and spinning around. Ethan couldn't help but smile as he danced with her, but he still couldn't shake the feeling of worry that gnawed at his gut.
It wasn't long before Tatum was stumbling back and nearly falling onto a glass table. "Tatum, are you okay? Maybe you should slow down on the drinking."
She just laughed and stumbled a bit. "I'm fine, I'm just having fun," she slurred her words.
Ethan watched as Tatum took another swig from the bottle. His mother used to do that, too. She lived and died doing just that.
"Tatum, seriously. Let me take you home," Ethan said, trying to grab the bottle from her.
Tatum pulled back and glared at him. "I don't need your help, dude. I can take care of myself. I don't even fucking know you."
But she was wearing his hat, and she smiled once he indulged her and danced, and he had seen her messy room and was the only one keeping an eye on her, right now. Still, she pushed him away, and he didn't follow, choosing to only watch her from afar.
As the night went on, Ethan watched as Tatum got more and more drunk. She danced with a few guys, stumbled around, and even threw up in the bathroom.
Fuck Chad for bringing her to this stupid party and then getting too busy with getting Tara away from a perv to realize that Tate was spiraling. God, there wasn't even any need for Ghostface to kill Tatum, she was already doing that herself.
He was supposed to be keeping an eye on Tara and Sam. Getting close to them, becoming trustworthy, a friend. But how could he, when everyone was gathered around by the stairs helping Tara while Tate was passed out on the couch, way too close to choking on her own vomit?
Cursing himself in his head for doing so, he gently shook her awake and helped her to her feet.
"Come on, Tatum. Let's get you home," he said, draping her arm around his shoulder.
Tatum groaned and stumbled, but Ethan held her up. The noise and crowds of the party quickly fade away as they step outside into the cool night air.
The fight from inside the party was now being taken outside, but all the focus was on Sam having a bitch fight with some random girls, not on Tate nearly passed out in Ethan's arms.
Tatum stumbles and giggles, swaying back and forth as she leans into Ethan. "You're like, really cute," she slurs, her breath hot against his cheek.
Ethan feels a flutter in his chest, but quickly dismisses it. "Thanks, I guess," he says, trying to sound neutral.
Tatum continues to chatter on, but Ethan's attention is on her phone. He sees the missed calls and texts from Gale and even Sidney Prescott and wonders what they could be about.
As they walk, Tatum starts to lean more heavily on him, her breathing becoming more labored. "I don't feel so good," she says, her voice shaking.
Ethan starts to panic, wondering if she's going to vomit or pass out. "Hey, Tatum, can you hear me? Do you need me to call for help?"
She was supposed to die by the hands of Ghostface. He felt that it was his duty to keep her from dying from alcohol poisoning.
Tatum giggles, leaning into him, hair brushing on his face. She had soft hair, so soft it tickled his cheek. "Don't worry 'bout it buddy, I'm having a great time!" she slurs.
They continue to walk, Ethan supporting Tatum's weight as she struggles to stay upright. It feels like they're walking for hours, but finally, they arrive at her apartment building.
Ethan helps Tatum up the stairs and into her apartment. The lights are off and everything is silent, so the rest of the group might still be off being assholes in the middle of the street. Ethan looks around, unsure of what to do next.
"Where do you want me to take you?" he asks.
She points to the door he knows to be her room. Ethan helps her inside and guides her towards her bed. Tatum's room is just as messy and chaotic as he remembers it, but he doesn't comment on it. His old room back home didn't look too different from it.
Ethan sat next to Tatum on the bed, watching as she struggled to keep her eyes open. He could see that she was in a lot of pain. It made something inside him ache to know that this was only the beginning.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly. Tatum let out a deep sigh, closing her eyes briefly before looking back at him.
"No," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't sleep. I've tried everything. Pills, alcohol, everything. And it just won't fucking work."
Ethan could feel his heart racing in his chest. He knew what it was like to feel that desperate, that helpless. "I'm sorry," he said, not sure what else to say.
Tatum turned her head to look at him, her eyes now filled with tears. "You don't understand," she said. "I just want it to stop. I wish I had died when Richie stabbed me. I wish my mother hadn't saved me."
Ethan felt a lump form in his throat. He didn't know what to say to that. Don't worry, if everything goes according to plan you'll be dead soon enough, so yay, congrats?
"I'm sorry," he said again, feeling utterly useless.
Tatum let out a bitter laugh. "Don't be sorry," she said. "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything."
Ethan shook his head. "That's not what I mean. I just... I wish I could help you. I don't want you to feel like this."
Tatum closed her eyes, her head falling back against the pillow. "I know," she said. "But you can't. No one can."
Ethan felt a lump form in his throat as Tatum's words hung heavily in the air.
"You didn't deserve what happened to you." He said gently.
Worst of all, he caught himself actually believing in his words.
Tatum turned to face him, her eyes red and puffy. "But I let it happen," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't do anything to stop them, so my friends died, and my dad died, and now I've got nothing."
How could Richie have hurt such a beautiful, sensitive creature?
The others, fuck, he understood. Ethan wanted to kill Chad himself just a few minutes ago. But Tatum?
Richie and Amber made her doubt herself, hate herself, want to lose herself. He was going to do the same thing, and the thought made his head spin.
"You're not alone, Tatum. You have people who care about you."
Tatum's eyes flickered up to his, and for a moment, Ethan thought he saw a glimmer of hope there. "Do you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan reached out and took her hand in his. "Yeah, I do," he said firmly. "I'm here, aren't I?"
Tatum's eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed his hand tightly. ''You don't even know me.''
Ethan gave her hand a gentle squeeze in return. ''I think I know a lot. I think I see you, Riley.''
Tatum turned to him with a confused look, "What did you just call me?"
Ethan felt his face flush with embarrassment as soon as the name left his lips. "Sorry, I don't know why I just called you Riley," he said quickly. "Your last name." He explained, feeling more foolish by the second.
Tatum laughed, a sound that was half-sarcastic and half-amused. ''Thanks.'' She said.
''For what?'' Ethan asked, surprised.
"Riley. Makes me sound like a badass detective or something," Tatum joked, a faint smile on her lips and something in her eyes that Ethan couldn't even recognize.
Ethan chuckled, "Well, you certainly look the part," he said.
The boy stood up to leave and suddenly, a somber expression painted her face.
''You're not leaving, are you?'' Tate asked, slurring her words. ''It's late, I think, and your dorm is pretty far away.''
Ethan felt a flutter of anxiety in his chest at Tatum's suggestion. He was supposed to go back to his dad's house, make a rerun of everything that happened at the party. Him and Quinn would be wanting to hear about Sam, Tara, Chad, Mindy. He had only kept an eye on Tate the whole night.
"Are you sure you want me to stay?" he asked.
Tatum nodded, her eyes half-closed. "Yeah. Just in case. I know I kind of accidentally told you I wish I was dead, but I don't want to die choking on my own vomit."
Ethan swallowed hard, the knot in his stomach growing tighter. "Okay, I'll stay. But I'll sleep on the floor, of course."
Tatum giggled, a little too loudly. "Of course. You're such a gentleman, ET."
Ethan's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her calling him that, just like his mother used to when he was a little boy. He cursed himself in his head for feeling that way. He knew he couldn't let his guard down around her, not after what had happened with Richie.
"Let me get you some water," he said, standing up from the bed. "And maybe some aspirin too."
Tatum nodded, her eyes closed again. "You're the best."
Ethan gritted his teeth, feeling a mix of frustration and concern. He couldn't let himself get too attached to her. Not when he had a mission to complete. But as he walked out of the room to get the water, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was already in too deep.