Page 29 of Don't Watch Alone
Drew’s already made himself at home. He’s slouched against the doorframe with a can of something cheap in his hand, with that samesmug look that he always has. Eva stands beside him, offering me a quick wave like she’s not sure if I’m happy to see them or not. I’m not.
“What’s up?”
“Thought we’d stop by, see you two before all the chaos tonight,” Drew says, eyes drifting past Tony to where I’m still standing half-hidden. I know he sees me.
I step into the hallway with my arms crossed. “Didn’t think we’d see you until tonight.”
“Surprise,” Eva says, like she’s trying to make up for Drew’s presence using just her cheery voice.
“I figured we’d chill here a bit before heading to Jade’s,” Drew adds, already crossing the doorway like it’s his place, and not mine. Eva follows him in without a second thought.
Tony shrugs, completely unbothered. Of course he is. Drew’s his boy, no matter how often he rubs me the wrong way or how his jokes always find that one nerve to annoy. The unease in my chest tightens; it turns colder, and much sharper. Andy’s warning flashesagain in my brain, whispering beneath everything—Don’t go.
But it’s just a movie with our friends. Just a Friday night plan.
“Make yourselves at home,” I mutter, before ducking back into the bathroom. I turn the blow dryer on one more time and let the sound drown them out. Drew’s laugh cuts through anyway, very loud and obnoxious.
In the mirror, my hair looks good—full, and teased to perfection—but my eyes betray something else. That weird sensation, like I’m standing on the edge of something I can’t see. I brush it off, tell myself it’s just nerves. The movie premiere, the group dynamic, maybe even the feeling of Drew’s energy souring the air.
I spritz a final spray of hairspray and reach for my clothes. The Guess jeans slide on like they were made for me. The turtleneck hugs close to my body. My leather jacket remains hanging over the chair. I glance at the time. We’ve got hours before we need to head out.
Still, as I zip up my jeans and catch sight of myself again in the mirror, that chill returns, wrapping itself around my spine.
Tony and Drew are already three beers in, the empty cans catching glints of sunlight on the coffee table like trophies to their mounting stupidity. It’s not even noon yet, and the room is already vibrating with their drunken laughter—too loud, too wild, and too much. Every few seconds, there’s a sharp crack of a can dropping or the deep, guttural sound of a burp echoing off the walls. I clench my jaw and steel myself for the long day ahead, reminded exactly why I can’t stand when Tony hangs out with Drew. Drinking is all Drew ever wants to do, and Tony, like clockwork, follows his lead. I’ve never understood why Eva tolerates him. She’s the complete opposite—quiet, understated, the kind of person you have to lean in to hear. I can’t picture how the two of them even met, let alone how they function as a couple.
I let out a slow breath, trying to settle the frustration boiling in my chest, and easemyself down onto the couch, deliberately leaving space between myself and Eva. She’s sitting at the edge like she’s not quite sure she wants to be here either. Her eyes settle on me, a striking contrast to the chaos raging just feet away in the kitchen.
“So, Eva... what have you been up to lately?” I ask, the question sounding forced even to my own ears, but it’s the best I can offer in this strange waiting period before the planned movie expedition kicks off.
“I’ve mostly been studying. Finals are coming up,” she says, her voice so soft it barely registers over the clatter of glass and Drew’s booming voice launching into another story—something about a prank gone wrong, or maybe right, depending on how drunk you are.
“Oh yeah? That’s cool. I took the semester off,” I reply, feeling myself shift slightly forward, suddenly more interested in this conversation than I expected. “I’m not really sure what I want to major in yet. I’ve been thinking about psychology, though. What’s your major?”
Her face lights up in a delicate, contained way, like the light of a candle instead of a spotlight. “Psychology,” she says with a small laugh, a sound almost immediately muffled by Drew yelling, “You’re telling me he actually did that?!”
I lean in a little despite the noise. I am unfazed. “No way, that’s what I’ve been thinking about, too. I’ve always been drawn to how the mind works. Like... what makes people tick.”
“It’s fascinating. Especially the mental stuff. And the history… how so many theories came and went.”
We talk. Not small talk, but real conversation. Ten full minutes pass without me realizing it, wrapped in a back-and-forth about human behavior, memory, motivation—why we are the way we are. She’s thoughtful and articulate, and her calm, focused energy completely dismantles the passive image I had of her. There’s depth here, curiosity, a quiet fire that mirrors something I hadn’t realized I’d been starving for. Maybe she’s not as out of place as I thought—maybe I’m not either.
Thencomes the sound—loud and vulgar—a burp that rips through the air like a gunshot, followed by Tony yelling, “Another one down!” The illusion of peace shatters in that moment. I flinch and glance toward the kitchen, where the frat-boy energy continues relentlessly. Eva simply sighs, and offers a tiny smile, more passive than entertained. Her eyes glance toward the noise, then return to mine with something almost regretful present in them.
And now I’m completely baffled. How does someone like her choose someone like Drew? It’s like watching a glass butterfly land next to an aggressive wasp, pretending they belong in the same ecosystem. It hits me then—maybe psychology is the reason she’s with him. Maybe Drew’s just some walking, talking experiment, a puzzle she’s still trying to solve.
Whatever it is, the dynamic between them makes no sense to me. And suddenly, the rest of the day stretches out in front of me like a bad dream—equal parts of curiosity and exhaustion. My only hope is that this unlikely connection with Eva holds long enough to getme through the noise and the stupidity without snapping. This is going to be a long damn day.
“Tony, don’t get too drunk. We’re still going to the movies tonight,” I say. My voice is louder than I intended it to be, but I need him to hear me. If something happens—and lately, that feels more like a when than an if—I need him sober enough to deal with it. Still, I try to dismiss the thought. Andy’s warning was probably just some over-the-top bullshit meant to rattle me.
Eva is still talking, rambling about something I stopped caring about ten minutes ago, and I finally cut her off. “I’m gonna go call Mary. She’s still missing, and I’m hoping maybe she just hit her limit with our asshole boss and decided to take off somewhere for a while.” I force a laugh that even I don’t believe, then get up and leave the room, the air thick with that uncomfortable silence no one mentions.
I step into my room, pick up the phone, and dial her number. It rings, and then goes to her answering machine. I stand there for a moment, staring at the wall like it’ssupposed to give me answers, when I hear something crash in the living room.
I ran out of my room in an instant.
Drew stands near the coffee table, guilt painted across his face like a child who’s been caught doing something that shouldn’t be doing. Then I see it. My favorite lamp lies in pieces on the floor, shattered like the last of my patience. Tony groans.
“Dude, I told you… no horse playing,” he says, rubbing his temples like he’s the one with a reason to be stressed.
