Where is Jillian?

Noah’s throat went dry.

“What… what does she look like?” he asked.

Ethan squinted a little. “I mean—tall-ish? Pale? Kinda goth, but, like, hot-goth. Big hips. Stupid nice ass. Tiny tits, though.” He laughed, like that last part was a punchline.

Noah’s heart fell out of his chest.

His fingers were already digging into his pocket, yanking his phone out like it might catch fire. He fired off three texts, quick.

hey where are you

everything okay?

babe please say something

He waited a coupled of seconds, but there was no response.

He swallowed. The air was heavy with cologne and sweat. There was something thick and heavy beneath his ribs, a feeling he couldn’t name.

He pushed forward.

“What are you doing?” one guy called after him, somewhere at the back of the line. Another guy, sitting cross-legged by the wall, sipping from a Gatorade let out a low whistle. “Bro, you skipping the line?”

“I just need to—” Noah shook his head. “I just want to talk to her.”

Ethan shrugged. “Pretty sure the door's locked.”

He stepped up to the door. Put a hand on the surface, and pressed his ear against the wood.

Nothing.

No moaning. No voices. No music. Just the dull thump of bass from the floor below, and someone shouting “CHUG, CHUG, CHUG” down the stairs.

He tried the knob, and it was locked, just as Ethan said.

The guy in front of the line, some random bro in a backwards cap, chuckled, “The last guy that came out said she was cool with it, man. Y’know, just that she was down to party. Word got around. I would get in line before you miss your chance.”

Noah looked at him. Really looked.

The guy didn’t look smug. Didn’t look cruel, even. Just bored. Like they were waiting in line for the self-checkout at the grocery store.

His pulse was loud in his ears. He opened his phone again. No new notifications.

He stared at the door. Then at the line. Then back again.

It couldn’t be her. Jillian wouldn’t do this. She was impulsive, yeah. Flirty. A little reckless sometimes, but she was sweet. Kind. She liked him. She would never do something like this, Noah assured himself.

He felt cold.

And so, Noah waited.

He leaned against the wall, just a few feet from the door. Silent. Staring at his phone screen, willing it to light up. Trying not to imagine the things that might be happening on the other side. Trying to hang onto the idea that HIS Jillian would never.

Thirty seconds passed.

Then a minute.

Then two.

Still nothing.