[2] A Game Of Survival ➳ ST (S2) 💙

|07| Emotional Confusion For Both Parties

Chapter 7!

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The party was still raging inside as if nothing had happened. Christine scanned the dancing crowd in search of a white sweater, just in case Nancy had wandered off after her fight with Steve, but Nancy was nowhere to be found. Eventually, she spotted Jonathan fighting to make his way back into the house from the backyard, so she pushed her way toward him, elbowing drunks out of the way when they didn't move fast enough. A couple dressed as Anthony and Cleopatra were blocking the exit, too busy sucking face to realise they were holding up the crowd. Christine had to reach over their heads to grab Jonathan's hand and haul him into the house.

"Watch it, bitch!" the girl snapped as Christine pushed Jonathan ahead of her. "You wanna dance with your boyfriend so bad, at least say excuse me!"

"Excuse me," Christine said with an unbothered shrug. Then she grabbed the sleeve of Jonathan's jacket and dragged him down the hall.

"Hey, I couldn't find her," he shouted over the music. "She's not out here, and she's not out back—"

"She's in the bathroom," Christine informed him. "I think she and Steve had a fight."

"About what?"

Christine could only glare at him. She didn't have the strength to answer.

When they finally reached the bathroom, Christine pounded on the door. "Nancy? Nance, it's Christine! Are you still in there?"

She didn't get a response, but she could hear the sink running inside. She pounded on the door again, and when no one screamed back complaining about the interruption, figured it was safe enough to take a chance.

"Wait here," she ordered Jonathan, before slipping inside and closing the door behind her. "Nancy? Are you—oh my God..."

Nancy was sprawled out on the bathroom floor, wedged between the toilet and the counter. Her once-white sweater was stained with deep red punch and her makeup was smudged around her eyes, which fluttered faintly as she groaned from the ground.

Christine dropped to her knees, easing Nancy up into a sitting position and propping her back on the toilet.

"Nance? Fuck, Nancy, are you okay? What happened?"

"Barb," she mumbled the words barely making it past her lips. "Barb, is that you? I'm...m'sorry..."

Christine froze, her heart breaking a little bit more with each passing second. She tucked Nancy's hair behind her ears, cradling her head so it wouldn't fall back too far and crack on the porcelain.

"No, Nance, it's Christine. Nancy, can you see me?"

"Chrissy?" Nancy's eyes fluttered opened, just wide enough show the tears welling inside. "Chris, m'sorry...I'm—m'so, so, sorry..."

"Sorry about what?"

But Nancy didn't answer.

"Nancy?"

Her head lolled to the side as she continued to apologize over and over under her breath: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...

Christine sighed, running her thumb over her friend's cheek. "God, Nance. What were you thinking?"

With a blind hand, Christine reached up to the counter and felt around for a cloth she could use to wipe Nancy's face. She found the punch-stained rag that Nancy had used to clean her sweater, still wet from the sink, and tried to wipe the sweat and mascara from Nancy's skin.

"Christine?" Jonathan was calling through the door, rapping his knuckles on the wood. "What happened? Is she okay?"

"Uh, yeah! Well—no. Just come in."