Chapter 5: A New Crowd
The auditorium at Westbridge Community College buzzed with nervous energy, the kind that made Aiden's palms sweat despite the chilly November air leaking through the windows. It was Saturday morning, the day of the regional debate competition, and the room was packed—high school teams from across the county, coaches scribbling notes, and parents snapping photos from the back. Aiden adjusted his tie, a cheap one his dad had dug out of a drawer, and tugged at his button-up shirt.
It was a far cry from his usual hoodies, and it felt like wearing a costume. He was in the holding area with his team, surrounded by Priya, Matt, and a few other Westbridge High debaters, all flipping through notecards like their lives depended on it.
"Relax, Carter," Priya said, not looking up from her notes. "You look like you're about to puke."
"I'm fine," Aiden said, his voice tighter than he wanted. He wasn't fine. His first debate round was in twenty minutes, and the topic—Resolved: Social media does more harm than good—was one he'd practiced but still felt shaky on. He'd been up late last night, cramming stats about cyberbullying and screen addiction, but standing here, with the hum of the crowd and the glare of the stage lights, it all felt like too much.
Matt clapped him on the shoulder, his grin easy. "You've got this. Just don't rush. Sell the points like we practiced." Matt was the team's star, a senior who could charm a judge with a smile. His confidence made Aiden feel both better and worse.
"Thanks," Aiden muttered, scanning the room. His eyes landed on Lila, of all people, near the front with a camera around her neck. She was there for the school paper, her red hair pulled back in a ponytail, her expression focused as she adjusted her lens. Their eyes met for a split second, and Aiden looked away, his stomach twisting. He didn't need her in his head right now.
Ms. Torres walked over, her clipboard in hand. "Carter, you're up second. You and Priya are pro. Stick to the structure—opening, evidence, rebuttal. Don't ramble." She gave him a sharp look, like she knew he was nervous. "You've been solid in practice. Show it."
Aiden nodded, his throat dry. He followed Priya to their assigned table on stage, the crowd's chatter fading as the first round started. The opposing team, from a fancy private school, looked like they'd been debating since kindergarten. Their lead speaker, a tall kid named Ethan, had a smirk that made Aiden's skin crawl. Ethan's opening was slick, all polished stats about social media's economic benefits. Aiden scribbled notes, his pen shaking slightly.
When it was his turn, he stood, his notecards gripped tight. The lights were brighter than he'd expected, and the crowd was a blur of faces. "Social media does more harm than good," he started, his voice steadier than he felt. "It fuels anxiety and comparison, especially for teens. A 2023 study from the National Institute of Health found that 60% of adolescents reported increased stress from social media use." He pushed through his points—cyberbullying, misinformation, addiction—his voice gaining strength as he went. Priya jumped in for the rebuttal, tearing into Ethan's economic argument with a precision that made Aiden glad she was on his side.
By the end of the round, Aiden's shirt was damp under his arms, but the judges were nodding, and Matt gave him a fist bump as they left the stage. "Not bad, rookie," Matt said. "You didn't choke."
Priya smirked. "You were okay. Next time, slow down on the stats. Let them breathe."
Aiden managed a grin, his chest loosening. He hadn't won the round single-handedly, but he'd held his own. As they headed back to the holding area, he caught Lila's eye again. She was snapping photos, but her lens lingered on him a second too long. He turned away, focusing on Priya's rundown of their next opponents.
After the final round, Ms. Torres gathered the team. "Solid work. Carter, you surprised me. We're advancing to the semifinals next month.
" The team cheered, and Aiden felt a rush he hadn't expected. He wasn't just surviving—he was good at this. Matt slapped his back, and even Priya gave him a nod, which felt like a medal.
As they packed up, Lila approached, her camera still in hand. "Aiden," she said, her voice softer than usual. "You were amazing out there."
He paused, his backpack half-zipped. Her green eyes were earnest, but he wasn't falling for it. Not again. "Thanks," he said, his tone flat. "Just doing my thing." He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked toward Matt, who was waiting by the exit. Lila stood there, her expression faltering, but Aiden didn't look back. Let her feel what it was like to be dismissed.
That night, Aiden stood in front of his mirror, tugging on a black T-shirt that fit better than it used to. The college party at Jake's place was in an hour, and he was nervous in a way that felt different from the debate. This wasn't about stats or arguments—it was about showing up as the new Aiden, the one who didn't shrink in a crowd. He grabbed his phone, texting Ryan: You ready? Picking you up in 10.
Ryan was waiting outside his house, in a hoodie and jeans, his laptop bag slung over one shoulder like he was still coding on the way. "This better be worth it," Ryan said, climbing into Aiden's dad's old pickup truck. "I could be debugging my app right now."
"You'll live," Aiden said, pulling onto the road. "Besides, you need a break. You're starting to look like a zombie."
Ryan laughed, messing with the radio until it landed on some indie rock song. "Says the guy who's been living at the gym. You're gonna show up to this party looking like Captain America."
"Shut up," Aiden said, but he was grinning. The drive to downtown Westbridge took fifteen minutes, past the strip mall and the diner where they usually hung out. Jake's place was a small house on Maple Street, the kind with a sagging porch and Christmas lights still up from last year. Cars lined the street, and music thumped from inside, loud enough to rattle the windows.
Aiden parked, his stomach doing that flip again. "You sure we're cool here?" he asked, turning off the engine.
Ryan shrugged. "Sophie invited you, right? That's your in. Just don't stand in a corner like a loser."
They walked up the porch steps, the air smelling like beer and pizza. Inside, the house was packed—college kids mostly, some Aiden's age, others older, laughing and shouting over the music. The living room was a mess of mismatched furniture, a coffee table covered in red cups, and a TV playing a muted music video. Aiden scanned the crowd, spotting Sophie near the kitchen, her green tank top swapped for a black crop top and jeans. She saw him and waved, weaving through the crowd.
"You made it!" she said, her smile wide. "Didn't think you'd show."
"Told you I would," Aiden said, trying to sound casual. "This is Ryan, my friend."
Ryan gave a mock salute. "Sup. Nice place."
Sophie laughed. "It's Jake's, not mine. Come on, grab a drink." She led them to the kitchen, where a cooler was stuffed with soda and beer. Aiden grabbed a Coke, sticking to his no-alcohol rule—his dad's lectures about "stupid choices" were burned into his brain. Ryan snagged a beer, earning a side-eye from Aiden but no comment.
The party was louder than Aiden expected, with people spilling into the backyard, where a bonfire crackled. Sophie introduced him to a few of her friends—Jake, a lanky guy with a beanie, and Tara, a girl with purple hair who was studying art like Sophie. They were easy to talk to, asking Aiden about debate and the gym without making him feel like a high school kid crashing their scene. He found himself relaxing, laughing at Jake's story about a failed skateboarding trick.
"You're not bad for a newbie," Tara said, sipping her drink. "Sophie said you're killing it at the gym."
Aiden's face warmed. "Trying to. She's the one who keeps me from dropping weights on my face."
Sophie smirked, nudging him. "You're learning. Stick with me, and you'll be benching your body weight by summer."
Ryan, leaning against the counter, grinned. "He's already halfway to a Marvel audition. Give it a month."
Aiden rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile. The party was better than he'd expected—no one was judging him, and for once, he didn't feel like the awkward kid in the room. He caught a few girls glancing his way, which sent a jolt through him. Was this what it felt like to be noticed?
Then he saw her—Lila, standing by the living room doorway, holding a soda and talking to a guy Aiden didn't know. Her red hair was loose, and she was in a denim jacket, looking like she belonged here more than he did. His stomach dropped. What was she doing at a college party?
Sophie followed his gaze. "Friend of yours?" she asked, her tone curious but neutral.
"Not really," Aiden said, his voice tighter than he meant. He turned back to the group, forcing a laugh at something Jake said. But he could feel Lila's eyes on him, and it took everything not to look.
Lila hadn't planned to come to the party. Jess had dragged her along, saying it was a chance to network with college kids for her journalism internship. But seeing Aiden here, laughing with a group of people she didn't know, threw her off. He looked different—his T-shirt hugged his shoulders, his posture was confident, and that girl, Sophie, was standing way too close. Lila gripped her soda can, her thumb denting the aluminum.
Jess nudged her. "You okay? You're staring daggers at that guy."
"I'm fine," Lila said, too quickly. "Just... didn't expect to see Aiden here."
Jess raised an eyebrow. "The debate guy? Wow, he's not the nerd you described anymore."
Lila's face flushed. "I didn't call him a nerd." But she couldn't deny it—Aiden wasn auditioning for a Marvel movie. The confidence he carried now, the way he laughed so easily with those college kids, made her feel like she'd misjudged him completely.
She wanted to talk to him, to say something more than the awkward hallway conversation, but he'd barely looked at her after the debate. She took a step toward him, then stopped. What was she even going to say?
Across the room, Aiden was deep in conversation with Sophie, who was telling a story about a mural she'd painted for a campus event. "It took three days, and I still have paint in my hair," she said, laughing. Aiden laughed too, the sound genuine. He liked this—being around people who didn't know the old him, the one who'd stammered through a pep rally confession. But Lila's presence was like a splinter under his skin. He could feel her watching, and it made his jaw tighten.
Ryan leaned in, his voice low. "She's still staring, man. You gonna talk to her or what?"
"Nope," Aiden said, popping the p. "I'm here to have fun, not deal with drama."
Ryan grinned. "Cold-blooded. I like it."
The night went on, and Aiden stuck with Sophie's group, moving to the backyard where the bonfire warmed the air. Someone handed him a marshmallow on a stick, and he roasted it, joking with Tara about his terrible technique. He was mid-laugh when Lila appeared again, this time alone, her hands in her jacket pockets.
"Hey," she said, her voice cutting through the fire's crackle. "Can we talk for a sec?"
Aiden's smile faded. He handed the stick to Tara, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Sure," he said, his tone neutral. They stepped away from the group, near a corner of the yard where the music was quieter.
Lila looked nervous, her fingers twisting a loose thread on her jacket. "I just wanted to say... you were really good today. At the debate. I didn't expect you to be, like, that good."
"Thanks," Aiden said, his voice flat. He wasn't going to make this easy. Not after everything. "Appreciate it."
She bit her lip, like she was searching for words. "I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. I didn't mean to... you know, at the rally. I was just caught off guard."
Aiden's chest tightened, but he kept his face steady. "It's cool, Lila. Water under the bridge." It wasn't, but he wasn't about to let her see that.
She nodded, her eyes searching his. "Okay. I just... I hope we can be friends or something."
"Maybe," Aiden said, his tone noncommittal. He glanced back at Sophie, who was laughing with Jake by the fire. "I gotta get back. See you around." He walked away, his heart pounding but his steps sure. He didn't owe her anything—not anymore.
Back at home, Aiden sat at the kitchen table, the house quiet except for the hum of the fridge. His dad was still up, watching a late-night car show, his feet propped on the coffee table. "How was the party?" Mike asked, not looking away from the TV.
"Fun," Aiden said, grabbing a water from the fridge. "Met some cool people."
Mike grunted, his eyes flicking to Aiden. "You're doing a lot lately. Debate, gym, parties. Just don't forget who you are, kid."
Aiden paused, the water bottle cold in his hand. "What's that mean?"
Mike set his beer down, his expression serious. "Means you're doing great, but don't burn bridges you might need later. People matter more than pride."
Aiden nodded, the words sinking in deeper than he wanted to admit. He thought about Lila's nervous expression, the way she'd tried to reach out twice now. Part of him wanted to believe she meant it, but the other part—the one that still stung from the rally—didn't trust it. He headed to his room, his phone buzzing with a text from Sophie: Good hanging with you. Next time, you're dancing. He smiled, typing back, Deal.
He lay on his bed, staring at the debate flyer on his wall. Regionals were a win, the party was a high, but Lila's face kept creeping into his thoughts. He pushed it away, focusing on the semifinals next month, the gym tomorrow, the new Aiden he was building. He was on his way up, and no one—not even Lila—was going to slow him down.