1. Addison

1

Addison

" S

hit."

I stood in the kitchen of my off-campus house, a relic with creaky floorboards and windows that rattled when the February wind howled. The place had character, layers of history in its walls that whispered secrets of bygone eras. I didn't mind the distance from campus or the occasional draft; it was my haven, my escape from the world's noise.

The only issue I had right now was the fact that I was going to be late.

The oven hummed, its warmth battling the chill that clung stubbornly to the air. I scooped dough onto a baking sheet, my hands moving with practiced ease. Chocolate chips nestled into the soft mounds like treasures. These cookies were more than just a sweet treat for tonight's Valentine's Day party—they were a distraction from the fluttering in my stomach.

Tonight was different. It marked the first time Eren and I would be out together as an official couple since we got together a few weeks back. My heart raced at the thought—excitement mingled with trepidation. Public acknowledgment was a leap across a chasm I'd long skirted around, avoiding the possibility of another fall.

I glanced at my reflection in the windowpane as I slid the tray into the oven. The girl staring back wore a tentative smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Yet there was something else there—a spark of hope, maybe even courage.

Eren understood me in ways others hadn't bothered to try. With him, there was no need for pretense or armor plated so thick it weighed down my soul. He never pushed, never demanded more than I was ready to give. But he also never retreated, standing steadfast like a lighthouse in my stormy sea.

As I set the timer for the cookies, I considered how strange it was that something as simple as baking could ground me. Flour dusted over the countertop and a smudge of chocolate on my cheek felt like badges of normalcy, small anchors tethering me to this moment.

Tonight wasn't just about making our relationship public; it was about taking another step forward on a path I was still learning to walk—one where I could be myself without caveat or pause. And perhaps most importantly, it was about embracing that with Eren by my side, there might be more warmth than chill on this journey ahead.

The screams from the TV echoed through the living room. I adored horror movies. There was something about the adrenaline rush that left my heart pounding in the best of ways. It provided an enticing soundtrack as I scrambled to get ready.

My red baby doll dress hung on the closet door, a pop of color against the muted walls of my room. Slipping it over my head, I adjusted the fabric until it settled just right; the skirt flaring out softly. The knee-high boots I paired with it were more for style than practicality. They clicked against the hardwood floor as I moved around my room. Sure, it was freezing outside, but I assumed most of tonight would be spent indoors where it was warm.

One last glance in the mirror for a quick assessment—cute but not trying too hard. That's when I spotted the smudge of flour on my cheek. A swipe of my hand and it was gone.

A chill skittered down my spine, and it wasn't from the drafty house. The sensation of being watched crept over me, making my skin prickle with unease. Heart pounding, I turned slowly towards the window.

Damn it, Addison.

The blinds were up—exposing me to any wandering eyes in the darkness beyond. Eyes that I could swear had been following me since I was a kid. My mind raced back to childhood warnings about privacy and safety; how could I have been so careless?

With quick steps, I closed the gap between myself and the window. My fingers fumbled with the cord, jerking the blinds down with more force than necessary. The soft thud of them settling into place did little to calm my racing heart.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus on tonight—on Eren and our first public outing as a couple. Nothing was going to ruin this night for me.

I dusted off my hands and checked my reflection once more—this time making sure nothing else was amiss.

Then, right on cue, the oven timer pierced through the drone of suspenseful music from the TV. Time to get those cookies out and move on with my evening plans.

The warmth of the oven caressed my face as I pulled open the door, a gust of sweet air enveloping me. I reached in, hands steady despite the flutter in my chest, and retrieved the tray of cookies. They sat there, perfect little rounds of comfort, their chocolate chips glistening like tiny jewels in the kitchen light. Setting them on the stovetop to cool, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Baking had always been my quiet rebellion against chaos, a way to create something good from the raw and messy.

I turned off the movie, its final screams and haunting score fading into silence. My heart still thrummed from earlier fears, but now it was time to push past them. With deliberate motions, I brushed my hair until it fell in soft waves around my shoulders. The simple act felt like armor being fastened into place—a preparation for what lay ahead.

I slid on my motorcycle jacket next, the leather cool and familiar against my skin. It gave me an edge, a layer of toughness that sometimes felt more like a costume than reality. But tonight, I needed that guise of strength.

Once satisfied with my appearance, I gathered the now-cool cookies and nestled them carefully into a box. I made sure each one was snug—safe for transport—then snapped the lid shut. With one last look around the house to ensure everything was in order, I grabbed my keys and stepped out into the cold night.

The lock clicked behind me as I secured the door.

There it was again—that prickling sensation at the back of my neck, an intangible whisper in the dark that I was not alone. My eyes darted across the shadows that clung to the yard like cobwebs. Nothing stirred, no signs of life beyond my own shallow breaths visible in the frigid air.

"Get a grip, Addison," I muttered under my breath.

Shaking off the feeling with a shiver that wasn't entirely from cold, I hurried to my car. The vehicle sat there under the moonlight—a steadfast relic from a bygone era just like my house. I climbed inside and cursed as I turned the key in the ignition. The engine groaned to life with reluctance typical of its years.

"Come on," I urged as if it could hear me. "Warm up already."

The heater wheezed into action, fighting against the chill that seemed determined to seep into everything tonight.

After another few minutes, the car finally surrendered to warmth. The windows cleared, and the shivers that had taken up residence in my bones retreated. While I waited, I pulled out my phone and punched in the directions to the party's location—an old barn in South Haven. Memories of White Out, the raucous party at the beginning of the school year, flickered through my mind. The barn was a bit of a trek from campus, but thankfully, the highway offered a direct route.

My phone buzzed with a text from Eren:

You on the way?

I responded quickly, my fingers tapping against the screen:

Yes, see you soon.

His reply came almost instantly:

Good. I was going to send Michael to come get you if you hadn't left.

Michael's name stalled my thumb mid-air. I'd known him since we were kids—our lives entwined like ivy on an old brick wall. There was something about him that felt off, which was strange because deep down I knew he was a good person. At least, that was what everyone said. He was the kind of guy who'd pull over and help a grandma across the street. And it didn't hurt he looked like a Norse god.

With a hesitant smile, I typed back:

Haha

But my heart wasn't in it.

The car's heater hummed steadily now, a lullaby against the chill outside. I set my phone in a cup holder and focused on the road ahead, willing away the tightness that had crept into my chest at the mention of Michael's name. Tonight was about Eren and me, and nothing else.

I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white against the black leather as the car hummed along the highway. The darkness outside was only broken by the occasional passing headlight and the dull glow of my dashboard. I tried to focus on the music streaming from my speakers, a soothing indie track Eren had introduced me to, but my thoughts were tangled with nerves about tonight.

Suddenly, a sharp pop shattered the quiet, and my heart lurched into my throat. The car jerked violently to the side, and I fought to keep it steady. My pulse hammered in my ears as I eased off the accelerator, guiding the vehicle onto the shoulder of the road with trembling hands.

I sat there for a moment, taking in shallow breaths as cars whizzed by, their lights streaking past in blurs. The sudden silence of my stationary car was a stark contrast to the chaos of moments before. I reached for my phone with clammy fingers and turned on the flashlight app, illuminating the dim interior of my car.

Opening the door cautiously, I stepped out into the cold night air. A gust of wind whipped around me, and I pulled my jacket tighter around myself as I walked to inspect the damage. The rear tire was completely flat, looking pitiful as it sagged against the asphalt.

I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat. I knew how to change a tire in theory—my dad had made sure of that—but actually doing it under the watchful eyes of countless unknown drivers felt daunting, especially at night.

Especially with those eyes…

A shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. My hands were clammy now, sticking slightly to my phone as I clutched it like a lifeline. I considered calling Eren for help but hesitated. This was something I needed to do on my own; I couldn't keep relying on others for rescue.

Taking another deep breath, I popped open the trunk and began rummaging for the spare tire and jack. My fingers brushed against cold metal and rubber—the tools of self-sufficiency that suddenly felt so foreign in my grasp.

As headlights continued to fly by on the highway, each one felt like an accusation—a spotlight on my vulnerability standing alone on this desolate stretch of road. But this was just another challenge, another chance to prove to myself that despite everything, I could stand on my own two feet.

I could do this—I had to.

The jack felt alien in my hands, the cold metal biting into my skin as I positioned it under the car. I cranked the handle, but it barely budged, mocking me with its stubbornness. My breath formed puffs of mist in the air.

"Come on," I muttered, straining against the jack. It gave a reluctant creak, lifting the car a fraction of an inch. I wiped my brow, smearing grease across my forehead. My hands trembled, not just from the cold but from the anger boiling up inside me.

I was late—so damn late—and here I was wrestling with lug nuts that refused to turn. The wrench slipped from my grasp, clattering onto the asphalt with a sound that echoed my irritation.

Cars continued to pass by, their headlights briefly illuminating me—a solitary figure in a red dress and boots, battling with a tire on the side of the road. No one stopped. Why would they? It was late and cold, and everyone had somewhere to be.

And honestly? I didn't want them to. I had no way to defend myself if…

Tears of vexation threatened to spill over as I fumbled with the wrench again. The lug nuts were coated with grime and road salt, fused to their threads by months of neglect. Each twist sent a jolt of pain through my arms and back.

A strong gust of wind whipped around me, carrying away what little warmth I had left. My jacket did nothing to shield me from its icy fingers that seemed to pry under every layer of clothing. The night had become my adversary, conspiring with time and machinery to break me down.

My fingers were numb now, barely able to grip the tools. I dropped the wrench again, and this time it was followed by a string of curses that disappeared into the night.

Eren's face flashed in my mind—his warm smile that could thaw even the deepest winter chill in my heart. But right now, he was waiting for me at that party while I stood here alone, battling a piece of rubber and steel.

The sense of defeat crept closer with each failed attempt at loosening those damn lug nuts. The simple task of changing a tire had become a herculean effort, and I could feel the edges of panic nibbling at my resolve.

I took a step back from the car, trying to catch my breath and gather what was left of my composure. My hands shook as I reached for my phone once more. Maybe it was time to admit defeat—to call for help.

But no. No more running from challenges—no more hiding from fears or relying on others for rescue.

I squared my shoulders against the cold and bent down once more, gripping the wrench with newfound determination. This tire would not get the best of me—not tonight.

Headlights sliced through the darkness, a pair of bright eyes homing in on my roadside struggle. My heart leapt, pounding against my ribcage with primal force. The car slowed to a stop just behind mine, its engine purring in the still night.

Worst case scenario, I could use the wrench as a weapon... hopefully.

The driver's door creaked open and out stepped a figure, their silhouette tall and unmistakable against the backdrop of the car's interior light. I tensed, every muscle coiled tight as the figure approached slowly. I felt like a helpless rabbit, and this person was a wolf, hunting me, stalking me, until he had the perfect opportunity to strike.

"Looks like you need some help," a familiar silky voice drawled.