Maybe We Should Go Somewhere Quieter
The wine was surprisingly smooth, its taste rich and slightly sweet, warming her throat as it went down. She took another sip, feeling the anxiety in her chest loosen ever so slightly.
As they settled in, a figure approached them from across the room— a tall guy in a dark shirt and jeans, his steps confident as he walked toward them. Sophia and Mary both noticed him at the same time, and when he reached them, he flashed a charming smile.
“Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you two sitting here all alone,” he said, his eyes flicking briefly to Sophia before settling on Mary. “I’m Ron,” he added, extending his hand toward Mary.
Mary smiled, taking his hand. “Mary,” she replied with ease, her voice playful.
“And you,” Ron said, turning to Sophia for a moment before his gaze shifted back to Mary, “look absolutely stunning tonight.”
Mary laughed lightly. “Thanks, I try.”
Ron grinned. “Well, I was wondering if you’d like to dance.”
Sophia watched as Mary glanced at her briefly, silently checking in before nodding to Ron. “Sure, why not?”
With that, Mary stood, leaving Sophia alone on the couch, the empty glass now sitting on the table in front of her. She watched as Mary and Ron moved toward the center of the room, joining a few others who were swaying lightly to the beat of the music. Sophia leaned back into the couch, her eyes following the two, feeling a strange mix of relief and isolation.
For now, at least, she could sit quietly and observe, letting the hum of the music fill her mind as the night carried on.
NEARLY AN HOUR LATER...
Sophia sat on the velvet couch, swirling the remnants of the wine in her cup, the last drop trickling out of the nearly empty bottle. The once foreign taste of the alcohol had grown oddly familiar, even pleasant, after a few rounds. Her head felt lighter now, the soft buzz making the surroundings blur ever so slightly. The extravagant décor of the penthouse— the dim blue lights sweeping across the room, the plush furniture, and the lavish sculptures that adorned the corners— seemed less intimidating. But even as her body relaxed into the couch, her mind was spinning.
She lifted the glass to her lips again, watching Mary dance with Ron. They moved easily together, as if they had known each other for years, not minutes. Sophia couldn't help but feel slightly envious. Mary had always been the more outgoing one, effortlessly able to make connections with strangers. Meanwhile, Sophia preferred to keep to herself, observing from the sidelines.
Her gaze wandered across the room as a sudden burst of laughter cut through the quiet music. In the corner of the room, a group of students huddled together, their laughter loud and carefree. Among them, Cedric, the celebrated birthday boy himself, stood out. His expensive suit shimmered under the low lights, and the way he carried himself— with his confident posture and easy charm— drew attention even from the most distracted of partygoers.
Sophia watched them from afar. Cedric and his friends belonged to a different world, one where wealth and status defined their every move. They were the top-tier students on campus, those who seemed to float above the rest, untouched by the usual stresses of university life. Sophia felt a pang of something—jealousy, perhaps, or maybe just the sting of being an outsider looking in. Cedric was laughing with one of the girls in his group, tossing his head back as if life was nothing but a joke to him. For a split second, he glanced up from his conversation and his eyes met Sophia's.
Her heart skipped.
It was only for a moment, but in that moment, she felt completely exposed, like a deer caught in the headlights. She quickly averted her gaze, focusing on her half-empty cup, her pulse racing. Did he notice? Did he see her staring? She fidgeted in her seat, trying to shake off the embarrassment creeping up her neck.
And then, just as she took another sip of her wine to calm her nerves, she felt the cushion beside her shift under someone’s weight. Startled, she glanced up and froze. Cedric was sitting next to her. His presence was almost overwhelming up close, the scent of his expensive cologne mingling with the faint smell of alcohol in the room.
“Come on now, don’t be shy,” he said, his voice deep and smooth, laced with a teasing undertone. “I saw you looking at me from across the room, and I figured I’d come introduce myself to the beautiful lady who’s been spying on me.”
Sophia's mind raced, but her voice faltered. “I-I wasn’t spying on you,” she stammered, but her words sounded weak, even to her. She could feel the heat rising to her face, her cheeks flushing under his piercing gaze.
Cedric chuckled softly, his laughter rich and confident. “At least have the decency to look at me when you speak,” he said, tilting his head slightly as if to coax her into meeting his eyes. “I find it a little disrespectful when someone doesn’t make eye contact.”
Reluctantly, Sophia lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes for a fleeting second before dropping them again, her shyness betraying her. His eyes were dark, intense, and filled with an amused curiosity. She felt her heart hammering in her chest, the butterflies in her stomach going wild.
“It’s okay,” Cedric reassured her, his tone softer now. He placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, the weight of it both reassuring and electrifying at the same time. “I don’t bite,” he added with a smirk.
The touch of his hand sent a shockwave through Sophia’s body. She wasn’t used to this— being this close to someone like Cedric. Everything about him screamed confidence, from the way he held himself to the way he effortlessly commanded attention in a room full of people. She could feel her pulse quicken, her breath catching in her throat.
“I-I know who you are,” she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone does.”
Cedric smiled, his dimples appearing as he leaned back slightly. “That’s flattering,” he replied, his voice low and smooth. “But I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. You must be new.”
Sophia nodded nervously, unsure of how to respond. She wanted to say something witty, something to make herself seem less awkward, but the words wouldn’t come. She could still feel the weight of his hand on her shoulder, the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin.
“What’s your name?” Cedric asked, his hand moving from her shoulder to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. The gesture was so casual, yet it made Sophia’s heart race even faster.
“S-Sophia,” she stammered, her voice barely audible.
“Nice to meet you, Sophia,” Cedric said, his smile widening as he extended his hand toward her for a handshake. “Cedric. Though I’m sure you already knew that.”
Sophia hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. Her fingers trembled as they made contact with his, the slight shake not going unnoticed by Cedric. His hand was firm and warm, and the casual way he held hers only made her more self-conscious.
“Why so nervous?” he asked, his voice teasing yet gentle. “You must have a crush on me or something.”
Sophia’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, and she quickly shook her head. “N-no, it’s not like that,” she tried to protest, but the words felt flat.
Cedric laughed softly, not mocking her but clearly enjoying her discomfort. “What year are you?” he asked, letting go of her hand but keeping his gaze locked on hers.
“Freshman,” she managed to say, her voice still shaky.
Cedric raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “A freshman, huh? How did you end up at my party?” he asked, more curious than accusatory. His hand rested casually on her knee now, the touch light but deliberate. “This party’s not exactly for first-years.”
Sophia swallowed hard, trying to think of an explanation. But before she could respond, Cedric’s hand slid slightly, the pressure of his fingers growing more suggestive. “You know,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone, “maybe we should go somewhere quieter. Somewhere where you can relax a bit more.”
Sophia’s mind raced. She knew what Cedric was implying. His hand on her leg, the way he leaned in slightly closer, the suggestiveness in his tone— it all pointed to something more. A part of her screamed that this was a bad idea, that she should get up and leave. But another part, the part that had been crushing on Cedric from afar, wanted to stay. He was, after all, the most popular and wealthiest guy on campus.
“Sure,” she found herself saying, her voice barely above a whisper. The alcohol coursing through her veins had dulled her judgment, and despite the warning bells going off in her head, she nodded.
Cedric smiled, his hand giving her knee a gentle squeeze. “Good choice,” he murmured.