It was night.
Noah's hands were already sweating as he and Emily approached the sleek white boat bobbing in the harbor. The thing looked expensive, the kind of vessel that screamed money and privilege. Voices drifted from inside, laughter and music mixing with the sound of waves against the hull.
"Whose boat is this again?" Noah asked, his voice tight with nerves.
"Does it matter?" Emily replied, already climbing aboard with the confidence of someone who belonged in places like this. "Come on, don't be such a pussy."
Noah followed, his legs unsteady on the deck. The boat was bigger than it looked from shore, with a spacious interior that opened up below deck. As they descended, Noah's stomach dropped at the sight that greeted them.
Five people were already there, sprawled across white leather seats with drinks in hand. All of them looked like they'd stepped out of some teen movie about rich kids. The girls were stunning in that effortless way that came with good genes and better skincare routines. The guys had that casual arrogance that money bought.
And there, lounging like he owned the place, was Marcus Reid.
Noah's blood turned to ice. Marcus had made his life hell for two years straight, shoving him into lockers, knocking books from his hands, calling him every name in the book. The guy was built like a linebacker and had the personality of a sociopath.
"What's he doing here?" Noah whispered to Emily, panic creeping into his voice.
Emily glanced over casually. "Marcus? He's changed, Noah. People grow up."
Before Noah could respond, Marcus looked up and their eyes met. Instead of the usual sneer, Marcus raised two fingers in a peace sign and grinned.
"Noah Morrison! No fucking way!" Marcus called out, his voice surprisingly warm. "Dude, I was just telling everyone about you. Come here, man."
Noah stood frozen as Marcus approached, expecting a punch or worse. Instead, Marcus clapped him on the shoulder like they were old friends.
"Look, I know we had our shit in the past," Marcus said, lowering his voice. "But I've been doing some soul searching, you know? I was a real asshole to you, and I'm sorry about that."
Noah stared at him, unable to process this complete personality shift. "Uh... okay?"
"I'm serious, man. New me, new year, all that bullshit. We're all adults now, right?"
The other people in the cabin were watching this exchange with amused smiles. Noah caught Emily watching him too, something unreadable in her expression.
"Anyway," Marcus continued, "Emily told us you were coming. Said you were cool now."
"She did?"
"Oh yeah, she's been talking you up all week. Says you're ready to really live a little."
One of the girls, a blonde with legs that went on forever, looked up from her phone. "Emily says you've never played truth or dare properly. Is that true?"
Noah's face burned. "I... what?"
Emily settled onto one of the couches, patting the seat beside her. "Come on, Noah. It'll be fun. You said you wanted to experience things, right?"
The way she said it made something twist in Noah's stomach, but he found himself sitting down anyway. The boat's engine rumbled to life, and he realized they were moving away from shore.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"Just out to sea a bit," Emily said. "More private that way."
Someone produced a bottle of beer and set it in the center of the group. Noah had seen this setup in movies, but experiencing it in real life felt surreal. These people were all impossibly attractive, like they'd been cast for their roles.
One of the girls, a blonde named Jessica, clapped her hands together. "Perfect! I love this game."
"Rules are simple," Marcus announced. "Bottle points to you, you choose truth or dare. But here's the twist – if you chicken out, you have to take a shot of whatever's in that flask." He pointed to a metal container sitting on the table that looked distinctly ominous.
"What's in it?" Noah asked.
The blonde girl, who'd introduced herself as Cassandra, giggled. "Let's just say it's stronger than beer."
The game started, and Noah quickly realized he was out of his league. When the bottle pointed to one of the guys, he dared Sandra to flash the group. She did it without hesitation, laughing as everyone cheered. When it landed on another girl, she chose truth and admitted to hooking up with her best friend's boyfriend.
Marcus dared one of the girls to flash him privately in the corner. Two others were dared to make out for thirty seconds, which they did with enthusiasm that made Noah's face burn. Meanwhile, every time the bottle spun, it seemed to land on everyone except him. He sat there watching, feeling like a spectator at his own life.
Noah watched it all with growing unease. These people lived in a different world than he did. They were comfortable with things that would have sent him running for the hills just that morning.
When Jessica was dared to remove her bikini top for a full minute, Noah stared so hard his glasses slipped down his nose. As he reached up to adjust them, they fell completely off his face, clattering to the floor.
"Shit," he muttered, dropping to his hands and knees to search for them.
His vision was a complete blur without them. He felt around frantically, hearing the others laugh as the bottle spun again somewhere above him. Finally, his fingers found the familiar frames.
"Got them," he said, sliding his glasses back on.
When his vision cleared, he found everyone staring at him. The bottle had stopped spinning and was pointing directly at him. But more shocking than that, it was also pointing at Emily, who sat across from him with an expression he couldn't quite read.
"Well, well," Marcus said with a grin. "Looks like Noah finally gets his turn. Truth or dare, buddy?"
Noah's mouth went dry. All those rounds of watching, and now he was in the spotlight. "Uh... dare, I guess?"
Emily's smile was predatory. "I dare you to come with me to the back room for seven minutes. Just you and me."
The group erupted in cheers and whistles. Noah felt his face burn as his brain tried to process what was happening. Emily, the hottest girl in school, was essentially propositioning him in front of everyone.
"I... okay," he managed to stammer.
"That's our boy!" Marcus shouted, raising his drink. "Go get her, tiger!"
Emily stood and extended her hand to Noah. Her touch was electric, sending shivers up his arm as she led him toward a door at the back of the cabin. The others continued cheering and making crude comments as they disappeared into what appeared to be a small bedroom.
Inside the small room, Emily closed the door behind them. The space was cramped, with just a narrow bed and a small porthole window. Noah stood there awkwardly, his hands sweating.
"Nervous?" she asked, stepping closer.
"A little," Noah admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Emily moved toward him slowly, her voice dropping to something sultry and hypnotic. "Relax, Noah. This is what you wanted, right?"
She pushed him gently backward until his legs hit the bed and he sat down hard. His eyes were wide as she leaned over him, her face inches from his.
"I've been waiting for this," she whispered, and then her lips were on his.
Noah's eyes fluttered closed as she kissed him. When he opened them again, she was staring directly into his, her dark eyes unreadable. The kiss was everything he'd imagined and more.
"You taste good," he breathed when she pulled back.
"Want more?" she asked.
His smile was answer enough.
Emily kissed him again, slower this time, more deliberately. Her hands moved to his shoulders as she pressed closer. Then suddenly, she pulled away and reached behind her back.
"Here," she said, "drink this. You look nervous."
She handed him a water bottle from the small table beside the bed. Noah was nervous, his mouth dry, so he drank gratefully. The water was cold and refreshing.
Within seconds, his vision began to blur. Not like when he'd lost his glasses, but different. Worse.
"What's happening?" he asked, his voice sounding strange and distant to his own ears.
"Shh," Emily said, pressing a finger to his lips. "Just relax."
The world went black.
When Noah's eyes fluttered open, he was no longer in the small bedroom. He was back in the main cabin, but something was terribly wrong. His arms were bound behind his back with thick rope, the coarse fibers cutting into his wrists. Everyone was standing around him in a circle. The atmosphere had changed completely. Gone were the smiles and laughter. Instead, their faces were cold, calculating.
"What... what's happening?" Noah struggled against the ropes binding him, panic rising in his throat. "Emily?"
Emily stood directly in front of him, but the girl who had kissed him moments ago was gone. This Emily was someone else entirely. Someone cold.
"Sorry Noah," she said, her voice devoid of any warmth. "But this was never about you."
"I don't understand." His voice cracked with fear. "Emily, why are you doing this? What did I ever do to hurt you? I supported your singing, I promised to be your manager when you made it big. I thought... I thought we were friends."
"That's the problem with losers like you, who always think without thinking," she said, touching his jaw mockingly.
Emily laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Oh Noah, you sweet, stupid boy. This is about my singing career. About all of our futures, actually."
Marcus stepped forward, and Noah saw he was holding something. A hammer.
"You see," Emily continued, "we need something to make us famous. Something that will get people talking. Something viral." She paused, savoring his fear. "And apparently, it requires a virgin boy."
Noah's whole body began to tremble uncontrollably. "Emily, please. I've always been good to you. I believed in you when no one else did."
"I know," she said with mock sympathy. "At least I made your mother's dream come true, right? You got to kiss a girl before you died."
The others laughed at this, cruel sounds that echoed off the cabin walls.
"What are you doing?" Noah's voice was barely a whisper as Marcus raised the hammer. "Please, Marcus, I won't tell anyone. I'll do whatever you want. You called me buddy, remember? We're friends now, right?"
Marcus paused for a moment, looking down at Noah's terrified face. "Sorry, buddy," he said with a cold smile. "But friends don't make friends famous. We know you won't tell anyone. That's the point."
The hammer came down to Noah's head.
The hammer came down to Noah's head.
Noah's scream tore through the cabin, raw and desperate. Marcus brought the hammer down again, and again, until the screaming stopped.
"Alright," Emily said, wiping blood spatter from her cheek. "Get him overboard. Make sure he sinks."
As two of the guys grabbed Noah's lifeless body, Emily was already thinking about the story they would tell. The tragic accident. The search and rescue. The media attention that would launch her career.
In the back of Noah's fading consciousness, his last thoughts were of his parents at home, probably making dinner, expecting him to come back with stories of his first real adventure. He had gotten to kiss a girl. He had seen what he wanted to see.
Maybe that was enough.
The ocean welcomed him with cold, dark arms, and Noah Morrison disappeared beneath the waves, taking his dreams and his mother's hopes with him.