A wave of confusion

Noah froze a few steps from the top of the stairs, hand still on the banister, eyes narrowed as he counted the guys.

Eight.

No, there were nine. One had just leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossed like a bouncer. All of them were loitering outside the room. The room he had left Jillian in, thirty or forty minutes ago.

What the fuck is happening? Noah wondered.

He blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Maybe he was confused. Maybe it was the wrong room. Maybe they were waiting for the bathroom on the other side.

But, they were standing right beside _that _door. He knew that door. He remembered it was the second door on the right. He knew the wood was a little scuffed on the edges, and the brass knob was really tarnished.

His stomach churned. Heat crawled up his neck. He took a slow step forward, then another. The hallway smelled like cheap cologne and vape clouds. Laughter and music from downstairs filtered through the floorboards, muffled and oblivious.

He hadn’t even grabbed the condoms. That realization hit him late, not that it mattered now. Nine guys were waiting outside a room where Jillian was supposed to be alone. Or asleep. Or maybe gone.

Please let her be gone, Noah hoped.

He scanned the line again. One of them, broad-shouldered, short brown hair, and a lazy half-smirk, looked familiar.

Ethan. From his intro Psych class.

Noah stepped toward him. Each footfall felt heavier than the last.

“Hey,” Noah said.

Ethan turned, brightening. “Yo! Shit, Noah, right? You were in Callahan’s class with me, right? God, what was that final, like seven short answers and no curve?” He laughed and leaned in like they were about to toast to mutual suffering.

Noah didn’t laugh. “Yeah. Hey, uh... what’s this line for?”

Ethan blinked, then tilted his head toward the door, casually as he was talking about the weather. “There’s this chick in there, she’s taking on comers, if you know what I mean. It’s sort of become a whole thing, I guess? I don’t know, they said she’s not drunk or anything, someone said it was cool.”

Noah’s blood turned to ice.

Ethan leaned closer. “You want in or something? I mean, you can… it’s just... there’s a line...”

“No,” Noah said, too quickly.

His jaw clenched. The hall was suddenly too small, the walls pressing in. The noise, the line, Ethan’s smirk—it all blurred together into something that didn’t make sense but felt wrong. The feeling settled deep in his chest, in his throat, until it was leaking out of his pores.