lpffa Chapter 266: Party.
Chapter 266: Party.
Chapter 266
KATYA POV
The tires crunched against the sand before we even reached the main circle of the party. I pressed my hands lightly against the door as Chiara swung it open, the ocean breeze tugging at our hair and skirts, carrying salt, fire, and something electric I couldn’t name.
The crowd noticed us before we had even fully stepped out. Cheers erupted, whistles piercing the night, hands waving.
Someone clanged a metal bucket like a drum. Laughter bounced off the nearby dunes. The bonfire’s flames licked the dark sky, casting flickering gold across the sand and the faces around us.
Chiara’s grin widened at the sight of them and she grabbed my hand before I could hesitate. "Come on!," she yanked me toward the crowd.
I stumbled onto the sand, letting it sift between my toes. My dark gown shifted with the wind, the short, flowing hem brushing my thighs, the fabric dampened slightly from the sea spray.
"Katya!" someone shouted from the firelight, and I flinched, laughing nervously as Chiara pulled me forward.
The cheers grew louder. A drink landed in my hand before I even realized it, and I quickly passed it to Chiara.
She caught it and chugged it down in one smooth motion, then grinned at me, eyes sparkling with mischief.
I side-eyed her, and she laughed nervously at my reaction, shoulders lifting in a shrug, because, literally, she had to drive us back home. I laughed softly, shaking my head at Chiara, her grin still wide, unbothered by anything.
The crowd swirled around us, bodies moving in rhythm to music that thumped in waves across the sand.
I wasn’t much of a party person—never had been—but I found myself smiling, watching people dance, watching them laugh, letting myself breathe in the chaos without judgment.
Chiara, of course, could have been the life of the entire beach on her own. Her energy practically radiated outward, drawing attention, coaxing cheers, daring anyone to try to outshine her.
And I... I was content to follow her orbit, a quiet satellite enjoying the spectacle. I caught sight of the cooler a little off to the side, the condensation slicked over the metal cans like tiny promises of refreshment.
A twinge of memory made me pause. I hadn’t forgotten the last time we’d snuck out, how Chiara had thrown herself into drinks like water in a desert, how we’d ended up stranded, sleeping in the car under a sky that didn’t forgive mistakes.
I’d prayed nothing happened to us that night—Nonna had sent a guard and picked us up, furious at me mostly, but Chiara... Chiara had barely noticed.
It had been a warning I’d taken to heart. "Chiara!" I shouted across the sand, dodging a group of dancers, "I’m going to grab a sweet soda from the cooler! You’re fine, right?"
"Yeah, go ahead!" she called back, her hand waving as she spun around to greet someone else, laughter echoing behind her.
"Don’t let me ruin your night by overdoing it!" I weaved through the crowd carefully, skirt brushing against my thighs, feeling the heat from the bonfire ripple across the sand.
Music vibrated beneath my feet, laughter and shouting mixing with the waves rolling in from the sea.
Each step toward the cooler made me feel oddly detached from the frenzy, yet perfectly safe, bonded only by the thought that Chiara was still out there, watching, celebrating, alive.
I reached the cooler and pried it open. Rows of soda cans gleamed under the string lights, condensation dripping onto the sand.
I grabbed one, twisting off the tab with a satisfying hiss, and took a small, careful sip. Sweet, fizzy, and entirely innocent—perfect for the way I liked it.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Chiara stumbling slightly—not from drink, but in a dramatic, exaggerated dance move—and I laughed quietly to myself.
Her energy was unstoppable. I hoped tonight wouldn’t be like last time. I silently promised myself I wouldn’t let it get that far.
I glanced around the circle of the party again, taking in faces lit by firelight, hair plastered with salt from the breeze, bodies moving in rhythm with reckless joy.
A pair of eyes caught mine and the man flashed me a grin, I quickly tore my gaze. I tried to focus on the flames, on the people dancing, on the way the firelight made everything shimmer gold, but he didn’t let me.
The man moved through the crowd with easy confidence, waving at me like we were old friends.
His grin widened the closer he got, teeth flashing in the firelight, a little too sharp, a little too practiced.
I kept my head down, taking another careful sip of soda, pretending I hadn’t noticed him at all. He stopped beside me before I could slip away, leaning slightly as if proximity alone would make me acknowledge him.
"Katya, right?," he said my name smooth, too casual. "I didn’t think you’d actually come tonight."
I swallowed, forcing my voice to stay calm. "I’m just... here for the soda," I said lightly, twisting the can in my hands, careful to keep it between us like a shield.
His grin didn’t falter. "Of course," he said, glancing at the cooler. "Can’t let Chiara hog all the fun, right?"
I stilled but nodded, giving him the smallest smile I could manage—polite, neutral, utterly uninterested.
My stomach tightened, a small warning I recognized well. I had no intention of engaging, no intention of letting him wedge himself into my night.
Chiara’s laughter drifted over from a few steps away, and I seized the distraction. I waved her over, holding up the soda. "Chiara! You okay over there?"
"Perfect!" Chiara called back, tossing her hair dramatically as she danced past a group of people.
"Don’t let him talk you into drinking anything strong, yeah?"
My lips curved at the reminder. "Trust me, he wouldn’t dare." The man beside me frowned, clearly realizing he wasn’t going to get the attention he wanted.
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, "You’re always so serious. I bet you can loosen up."
I tilted my head back, meeting his gaze briefly—cold, steady, and unflinching. "No," I said simply, my voice low and steady as I set the soda on the cooler and stepped aside, leaving him no space to push.
Six months ago, I might have flinched, shrunk, let someone see me break or break me. But not tonight and never again.