Noah

Daniel’s house was buzzing the second we walked in. Music pounded through the walls, cups of soda and spiked punch already in half the hands I passed, and the kitchen counters were stacked with every kind of snack imaginable. Parties always felt the same—crowded, loud, predictable.

Jackson was already in his element, high-fiving guys on the football team, talking big like he always did. I was right beside him, playing along, throwing back laughs and comments. Same old thing.

And ...