After Bailey started groaning and moving from the pain, Anastasia was satisfied she was still alive and refocused her attention on Matt.
"Matty, come on, wake up. Let's go. You're a big boy, so you'll have to help me get you to stand. Come on, Matty," Anastasia urged, trying to pull him up. He moaned, his head still facing the floor, but he pressed against the couch to get up. He stumbled through the door and into the corridor with Anastasia's help, . She looked behind her to ensure Bailey wasn't following them, but what she saw sent chills down her spine. Bailey stood up, walked to the door and watched her with a horrifying intensity. Anastasia almost swore Bailey's eyes flashed red, but she decided to focus on getting Matt to his dorm.
Matt was so heavy that Anastasia was struggling, and when she looked ahead, she couldn't believe her luck—some frat boys, including her mystery man, were coming their way. He saw her before she spotted him and was already racing towards them to help. He still had his mask on, but she didn't care about that right now.
"Hey, let me help," he insisted, taking Matt from her.
"His dorm is right next door—"
"I know, don't worry, I'll get him there. Come on, let's go," the mystery man urged.
"I need to find Jenny. Who knows what that little bitch did to her-"
"Don't worry. She was stuck in the bathroom, and a bunch of us got her out after hearing her scream. She asked for our help to find Matt. She's outside waiting for us, so let's go…now!" he insisted. Anastasia was wondering why he was being so pushy as if they were they running from something.
"Okay, let's go," she agreed. As they passed a group of worried fraternity boys, one of them, a senior named Josh Miller, stopped her.
"Hey, is Matt okay?"
"No, unfortunately, that psycho girl spiked his drink and forced herself on him," Anastasia said in disgust, pointing at Bailey, who was standing in the doorway, still watching her. The boys followed her gesture and clenched their jaws, looking almost feral.
"We will not tolerate that kind of shit in our house!" one of the boys growled.
"Don't worry. We will deal with her. She won't get away with hurting one of us," Josh said, placing his hand on her shoulder as a comfort and looking at her with determination.
"Thanks, Josh. I won't forget this," she smiled at him.
"Anastasia, let's go!" the mystery man called out.
"Go, we got this. Get Matt safely to his dorm," Josh nodded at Anastasia and then refocused his attention on Bailey, his expression shifting from soft and reassuring to wild anger in a heartbeat.
As Anastasia took one last look before turning the corner, she saw the boys racing up to Bailey as if they were about to pounce…and Bailey seemed ready for them?
Anastasia felt confused and went into deep thought about what had just happened as she followed her mystery man down the stairs.
I didn't imagine that! That's for sure!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Soon afterwards, the mystery man, Jenny, and Anastasia had made sure Matt returned to his dorm safely and placed him onto his bed. Anastasia knew she had to explain to Jenny that that someone had spiked his drink and they found him passed out on one of the couches upstairs. She decided to omit the details of Bailey's and Matt's indiscretion—not only to spare Jenny's feelings, but also because she didn't have the energy to answer the barrage of questions that would surely follow.
Jenny wanted to stay, her concern evident, but Anastasia was adamant. The whole situation seemed premeditated: Bailey's uncanny resemblance to Jenny, her knowledge of Anastasia, and the fact that she had brought some sort of drug to the party. Anastasia couldn't shake the feeling that Bailey might still be a threat in case she might know where Matt's dorm was and didn't want Jenny around if things escalated.
"Jenny, may I ask a favor, " Anastasia began.
"Anything, Ana," Jenny replied with clear worry evident in her eyes.
"Matt's pretty out of it, and it might be better if you head back to your dorm for now. He will be pretty embarrassed and think that he ruined the night for you both so maybe if I explain what happened when he wakes up, he might not freak out." Anastasia tried to explain gently.
"But Ana, I want to be here for him," Jenny hesitated.
"I know, but right now, it might be too overwhelming for both of you if you try to tell him he was drugged at his own Fraternity house. I'll stay here and make sure he's alright. Go get some sleep, please. I'll you if anything comes up." Placing a consoling hand on Jenny's arm, Anastasia spoke.
Jenny nodded, biting her lip. "Okay, I'll go but please tell him to call me when he's able?"
"Thanks Jenny, I will," Anastasia assured her.
Jenny kissed Matt gently on the forehead before heading out the door. She locked the door behind her and thanked the mystery man who had assisted them that night before heading out.
Anastasia almost forgot he was still there as if he were protecting them, almost like he read her thoughts about Bailey might still being a threat. He still had his mask on which made Anastasia's curiosity stronger.
She got off Matt's bed and slowly walked up to the stranger. "What's your name?"
They locked eyes, and he met her question with silence. She gently lifted her hands to remove his mask, but he caught her hands softly.
"Wait... I..." he started to say. After pausing, Anastasia carefully removed his mask. Even though she didn't know him but there was something strangely familiar about his appearance.
She stared into his eyes which were had deep mesmerizing shades of blue like a stormy ocean she had seen before. She almost touched his cheekbones that were well-defined and gave his face a chiseled look. There was something about his strong, elegant jawline and the way it curved that tugged at her memory. His nose was straight and slightly narrow, fitting perfectly with the rest of his features. His lips were full and had a natural, gentle curve, a familiar softness to his otherwise striking appearance.
"I know you… but where do I know you from?"
"You don't," he replied.
"Then why do you look so familiar?"
"I must have one of those faces," he whispered.
"Tell me your name," she urged.
"Is it that important to you?
"Yes!"
He sighed because he realized that she wasn't going to let up. "Warren."
"Warren who?" she pressed.
"Warren Derrick Baxter," he resigned to her.
She had to think about this for a moment; the only Warren she knew was her next-door neighbour and the last name Baxter was her mother's best friend's last name.
"Are you related to Shelly Baxter?"
"How do you know Shelly Baxter?" He questioned raising his eyebrows.
"She was my mother's best friend. I haven't seen her since my mother's passing as she moved to Florida though."
"She's my aunt," he confessed.
"That must be it! She used to bring her family around for barbeques so you must have been one of the kids, my brothers and I played with. That's why you look familiar. I knew you looked familiar." Anastasia frowned to herself looking into space, 'That must be it.'
She then stared at him suspiciously. Why were you so reluctant to tell me your name?
"I am not actually a student here. I didn't want to freak you out," he replied blushing.
"Oh? Then what are you doing here? And the Fraternity brothers seemed comfortable with your presence…"
"I am a graduate but they are still my brothers so they invited me," he responded confidently.
"Oh I see."
Suddenly there was a silence between them as if there was a lot to discuss but their eyes locked as if they were speaking with their eyes.
She slightly flinched as he suddenly stepped towards he and lifted his hand to brush her hair out of her eyes which was dishevelled from the events of the evening.
"Oh no, I must look awful—my hair's probably a complete mess!" She was about to dash to the bathroom when she realized she was standing before a man who looked like he'd stepped out of a dream, while she herself was a tangled mess with smudged makeup. He gently caught her arm and pulled her closer, erasing the distance that had separated them. His thumb brushed softly against her cheek, lingering on her chin.
"You're as beautiful now as you were the moment I first saw you," he whispered.
Her breath hitched, as if he had stolen the very air from her lungs. His words felt like they were crafted just for her, a secret meant only for her ears. But in that moment of vulnerability, she froze as his gaze slowly shifted to her lips.
She should have stopped him, but didn't when he slowly bent his head forward and his lips brushed against hers, it was like a whisper of a breeze—gentle and barely there. The contact was so light it felt like the briefest flutter of a butterfly's wings, a fleeting moment suspended in time. The kiss was sweet, loving, and ended nearly as quickly as it started, leaving a lingering affection that seemed to echo in the silence that followed. That quick, fleeting touch conveyed the delicacy and emotional closeness of shared intimacy between two strangers, yet so familiar.
As they slowly pulled apart, she gazed into his eyes, sensing he had more to say. Just then, she heard Matt stir in his sleep. She hurried to his side, ready to soothe him if he woke, but he settled back into a peaceful slumber. When she turned around, she noticed the bedroom door closed softly and realized Warren had slipped away. She was left alone, lost in thoughts of his fleeting kiss, which still lingered on her lips. Gently, she touched her lips with her fingers, closing her eyes to recall the delicate warmth of his touch.
She lay beside Matt, her thoughts tangled between the anticipation of seeing Warren again and the guilt of kissing someone she barely knew while she was meant to be loyal to Dylan.
Bailey's groans filled the air, a low, pained noise that sent relief flooding through Anastasia. She was alive—but barely. Good. That wasn't her problem anymore. Right now, Matt was.
"Matty, come on, wake up. We gotta go," Anastasia whispered urgently, shaking him, her hands trembling. "You're a big boy, so help me out here, okay?"
Matt groaned, head still lolling forward, barely clinging to consciousness. He pressed against the couch, weakly attempting to push himself up. Anastasia braced her legs and heaved, pulling his dead weight up with every ounce of strength she had. They stumbled towards the door, Matt leaning on her like a drunken giant.
She glanced over her shoulder to check on Bailey—
And her blood ran cold.
Bailey was standing.
Not just standing—watching. Staring. Unblinking, her body eerily still, except for the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her chest.
Then, something shifted. Her eyes—
For a fraction of a second, Anastasia could've sworn they flashed yellow. But that wasn't possible. Right?
No time for that now. She dragged Matt forward, her mind screaming at her to move faster. He was too heavy. Too slow. But then—
A miracle.
A group of frat boys rounded the corner, laughing—until one of them saw her. Not just any one of them. Him.
The mystery man.
His mask still covered most of his face, but his urgency was unmistakable. He was already moving before she even had to ask.
"Hey, let me help."
Relief. Sweet, fleeting relief. He peeled Matt off her like it was nothing, gripping him with surprising strength.
"His dorm is right next door—"
"I know. I got him. Let's go."
That stopped her. "How do you—"
"No time." His voice was tight, his eyes sharp. "We have to move. Now."
Anastasia hesitated. Why was he acting like they were running from something? But before she could ask, another voice cut in.
"Hey, is Matt okay?"
Josh Miller, a senior, stood with his arms crossed, his jaw tightening as he followed Anastasia's gaze to Bailey, still lingering in the doorway like some kind of vengeful specter.
Anastasia's lip curled. "No. That psycho drugged him and tried to—"
She didn't need to finish. The change was immediate. The frat boys' faces twisted with rage, their easy camaraderie vanishing in an instant.
"We don't tolerate that kind of shit in this house," one of them growled.
Josh's hand landed on her shoulder, firm, reassuring. "Don't worry. We'll handle her."
Anastasia swallowed, glancing back at Bailey one last time. The guys were already moving toward her, their expressions dark, their movements predatory. And the strangest part?
Bailey didn't look scared.
She looked...ready.
Anastasia shivered, forcing herself to keep moving.
Matt's dorm. Finally.
Anastasia and the mystery man lowered him onto the bed, his face slack, his breathing heavy. Jenny was already there, her hands flying to Matt's cheeks, eyes wide with worry.
"What happened?!"
Anastasia hesitated. She couldn't tell Jenny the whole truth. Not now. Not when Bailey was still out there, lurking.
"Someone spiked his drink," she said instead. "We found him passed out."
Jenny's hands curled into fists. "That bitch—"
"Jenny." Anastasia grabbed her wrists, her voice low, urgent. "Listen to me. I need you to go back to your dorm."
"What? No way! I'm staying—"
"Jenny, please." Anastasia's voice softened. "Matt's going to feel like absolute shit when he wakes up. If you're here, he'll think he ruined everything. Let me talk to him first."
Jenny hesitated, chewing her lip. "Are you sure?"
"I promise."
With a reluctant nod, Jenny kissed Matt's forehead and turned to leave. "Tell him to call me."
"I will."
The second the door shut behind her, Anastasia let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
And then—
"I almost forgot you were here," she murmured, turning to the mystery man.
He didn't say anything. Just watched her. The weight of his stare was heavy, knowing. Protective.
She stepped closer. "Who are you?"
Nothing.
Her fingers twitched. Slowly, she reached up, grasping the edges of his mask—
He caught her hands, gently but firmly.
"Wait." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I..."
Anastasia held her breath. And then, without another word, she lifted the mask.
She didn't know him.
But she knew him.
The sharp jawline. The stormy blue eyes that churned like restless waves. The curve of his lips—
"Warren," he said before she could ask.
"Warren who?"
A pause. Then, reluctantly—
"Warren Derrick Baxter."
Her mind spun. That name—she knew that name.
"Shelly Baxter—she was my mom's best friend," she breathed, piecing it together.
He nodded. "She's my aunt."
That had to be it. That had to be why he looked familiar.
But then—why did her gut tell her there was something more?
"Why didn't you tell me before?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
He hesitated. "I'm not a student here."
Her stomach clenched. "Then why—?"
"The frat brothers are still my brothers. They invited me."
The tension thickened between them, something unsaid crackling in the air. Then, suddenly—
He reached forward, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, fingertips ghosting over her cheek.
Anastasia's breath hitched.
"Oh, God, I must look awful—"
She started to turn, but he caught her wrist, pulling her closer. "You're beautiful."
She barely had time to process the words before he leaned in.
His lips brushed hers—soft, fleeting, barely there. A whisper of a touch that sent a shiver through her entire body. It was nothing. And yet—
It was everything.
Her mind went blank, lost in the warmth, the quiet intensity. But just as fast as it happened, it was over. He pulled back, watching her, searching her face for something she didn't understand.
She wanted to say something. Anything. But before she could, Matt stirred behind her.
She turned—
And when she looked back—
The door was closing.
Warren was gone.
She touched her lips, her heart slamming against her ribs. What the hell just happened? Who was he, really?
"No, you won't see him again," she told herself, her mind heavy with resolve as she drifted off to sleep.
The next thing she knew, her eyes flew open at the sound of a commanding voice.
"What are you doing here?"—