Maya's eyelids fluttered open, her groggy senses struggling to shake off the remnants of sleep. The room was dimly lit, the kind of soft light that made shadows dance on the walls. Confused and disoriented, she tried to piece together why she was waking up. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized there was a figure looming over her, barely visible in the haze of her drowsy vision.
Before she could even let out a scream, a rough hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her in a panic. Her pulse raced as she fought to push the hand away, her nails scratching at the skin. The familiar grooves and calluses under her fingers sparked recognition. The fear in her eyes morphed into irritation.
As her vision cleared, the smirk of Sam Turner materialized in the dim light. He removed his hand from her mouth with a lazy grin and flopped onto the bed beside her, the mattress creaking under his weight. He sprawled out casually, propping his hands behind his head as if he owned the place.
“Seriously, Sam?” Maya’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tension. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Sam rolled his eyes theatrically but kicked off his boots with exaggerated movements. “Take your shoes off,” she demanded, gesturing toward his muddy boots.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam replied nonchalantly, still staring up at the ceiling. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”
Maya raised an eyebrow. “If this is about you trying to win Clarissa Jackson over with some wild stunt—”
His grin widened, more mischievous than ever. “Not even close. This is all about you.”
She eyed him warily. “If you’ve brought any more of your infamous prank supplies—”
“Relax,” Sam said, feigning innocent shock. “I come bearing no such gifts.”
“Then what’s with the late-night visit?” Maya’s curiosity was piqued, though she maintained a steady tone despite the oddity of the situation.
“Girls love a guy who sneaks into their room, right?” Sam teased, flashing a cheeky grin. “Just ask all the Twihards. They’d be dying of jealousy.”
Maya stared at him, trying to decipher his bizarre comment.
“Anyway,” Sam continued, shifting to face her more directly, “the real reason I’m here is to invite you to a party.”
Maya waited expectantly, but when Sam just stared at her with that infuriatingly casual look, she prodded, “And...?”
“And,” Sam said with a flourish, “I want you to be my Alice Cullen.”
Maya’s eyes lit up with intrigue. “You’ve read the books, haven’t you?”
“Of course,” Sam said with a shrug. “I mean, Harry Jackson for the thrills, Hunger Games for the chaos, and Twilight to see what the fuss is about. I figured if millions of girls are swooning, there’s got to be something to it.” He pointed at her bookshelf. “Looks like you’re into them too.”
Maya felt a flush of embarrassment. “I’m not exactly a fan of Bella or sparkly vampires, but I do have a soft spot for the Volturi, especially Alec and Jane.”
Sam’s grin widened. “They’re pretty badass. And you’re right—Edward could have saved us all a lot of drama if he’d just made a move in that meadow.”
Maya chuckled, warming to the conversation. “So, you want me to be Alice.”
“Yep,” Sam confirmed. “You’ve got the pixie-cut, the mischievous vibe, and despite your size, you pack quite a punch. Plus, the rest of our crew is already cast.”
Maya raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And who else is playing what?”
“Dawson’s our Edward,” Sam said with a laugh. “Brooding and intense, always waiting for ‘true love’ with his quirky reasons for doing things.”
Maya smiled softly at the affection in Sam’s voice as he spoke about their friends. “And?”
“Jason’s our Carlisle,” Sam said, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Quiet, supportive, and surprisingly strong when it counts.”
Maya nodded, her amusement growing. “And?”
“Angelo is our Emmett,” Sam said, snorting. “The jock with the big heart.”
“And Clarissa?” Maya asked, already knowing the answer.
“Rosalie, obviously,” Sam said with a grin. “She’s got that whole icy, glamorous vibe.”
Maya burst into laughter, easily picturing Clarissa as Rosalie. “Perfect fit.”
“Harper’s Esme,” Sam continued, his voice taking on a mock-serious tone. “The mom figure, always trying to nurture the teens who aren’t hers.”
Maya was genuinely touched. “And you? Who do you see yourself as?”
“Jacob Black,” Sam said with a smirk. “For the whole animal magnetism and love for leather jackets. We both started off with a girl we could never have and found out there’s something extraordinary about ourselves. Plus, we’ve both found a family that’s had our backs.”
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Maya blinked in surprise at his candidness. “I see it now,” she said with a smile. “You definitely have that Jacob vibe.”
Sam’s smile softened, revealing a rare moment of genuine emotion. But then, with a clearing of his throat, he was back to his usual self. “So, Alice, ready to help me make this the best No Reason Party ever?”
Maya played along, feeling both amused and a bit silly. “Where’s this No Reason Party happening?”
“I’m thinking The Brew,” Sam said, pulling out a neatly folded list from his jacket and handing it to her with a flourish. “We’ve got the basics down, but I need your touch to really make it pop.”
Maya glanced at the list and then whispered, “Air around me, grant me light.” The ball of light from their earlier adventure reappeared, floating above them like a disco ball, casting a warm glow around the room.
Sam’s eyes widened in admiration. “Nice touch,” he said, giving her a playful salute. “Let’s make this party legendary.”
Sam’s eyes lit up with admiration as he took in the glowing orb of light. “I’ve definitely got to remember that move for later.”
Maya raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “You know Harper would be the one to handle this, right? I’ve never actually planned a party before.”
Sam let out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head with a mischievous grin. “Liar. Jason and Dawson both told me you’re the one who helps with their birthdays every year, alongside Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Ross.”
“More like I assist,” Maya mumbled, glancing away. “Harper’s the one who’s actually organized parties before. You know, she’s got that whole popular girl thing going on.”
“Maya,” Sam said with a knowing smirk, “when Harper takes a break, it’s usually to indulge herself, not to plan parties. That’s one reason why this one is so important.”
Maya fell silent, waiting for him to elaborate.
“These last few weeks have been brutal,” Sam said, settling against her headboard as if it were his own. “Dawson’s been pulling double shifts, learning everything he can from Clarissa and his mom—though, now that I say it out loud, that sounds pretty perverted.” He shook his head, as if to clear the thought. “Jason’s parents have him trapped in Kansas’ version of Guantanamo Bay. Harper’s pushing herself to the brink, and Angelo? He’s juggling herbalism, helping you with your wolf issues, and getting his butt handed to him by Coach Cochran.”
Maya’s eyes widened. “You know about that?”
“I might have sneaked in during one of his sessions when he smelled like burnt toast,” Sam admitted, his tone unexpectedly serious. “Coach Cochran is going to push him too hard one day. Someone’s going to get seriously hurt.”
Maya looked at him, taking in the weight of his words.
“So, it’s just you and me,” Sam declared, turning to face her with an earnest expression. “We’re the only ones not on the verge of a meltdown. Until the others can toughen up or at least stop caring so much, we owe it to them to throw a party where they can forget their stress—even if just for a few hours.”
Maya studied Sam, her perception shifting. Beneath his carefree attitude, she saw genuine concern, and it made her reconsider her previous judgments.
She shook her head with a smirk. “I think you might actually have a bit of Carlisle in you.”
Sam’s jaw dropped in mock indignation. “I do not! I’m Jacob through and through!”
Maya laughed and playfully jabbed him in the ribs.
Sam’s smirk returned as he relaxed. “Alright, Alice, get to work. Transform this mess into something magical.” He made a show of cracking an imaginary whip, complete with sound effects, before reclining with his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. “Wake me when you’ve turned this into something we can use.”
Maya raised an eyebrow at his audacity. “It’s three in the morning.”
“Good observation,” Sam grinned, pulling her blankets up over himself.
Maya looked at him incredulously. “You’re not actually planning to sleep in my bed, are you?”
He grabbed a pillow and wedged it between them, his eyes still closed. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’m flattered that you’re so concerned about my safety and virtue.”
“Shut up before I make you sleep on the floor,” Maya grumbled, though amusement danced in her voice. She reached over to her bedside table, putting away the package in a drawer, and grabbed a pen. “Now go to sleep and be quiet. You’ll be a distraction otherwise.”
Sam yawned, snuggling into the pillow. “Seriously, Maya, your attraction is just overwhelming.”
Maya shook her head with a smile, focusing on the party plans. Beneath their light-hearted banter, she understood why Sam was so determined. Both of them needed this party more than they’d admit—maybe more than anyone else.
She laughed, eyes twinkling. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re like family. That makes you my brother.”
Sam’s grin widened, a playful glint in his eyes. “Correction: that makes me an incredibly hot brother you might want to have some scandalous fun with. First Angelo, now me... you’re practically a walking soap opera.”
Maya rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a chuckle. “Not this again. Can’t you be serious just once?”
Turning back to the crumpled piece of paper in her hands, Maya struggled to decipher Jason’s chaotic scrawl. The rhythmic sounds of Sam’s snoring soon filled the room, interrupted by the occasional snort.
Shaking her head with a smile, she murmured, “Incredibly hot, my foot.”
-----
In the quiet of the other room, the tension was palpable. The muffled sounds of Mandy and Otis’s whispered conversations and soft laughter contrasted sharply with Conner’s solitude.
Conner sat cross-legged on his bed, his sketchpad cradled in his lap. He flipped through pages filled with observations and thoughts about his Coven, his chosen family. The drawings depicted their various states of intimacy and turmoil. Pat and Howard dominated many of the pages, their love apparent even in the unspoken moments. Conner admired their bond deeply, though he knew he could never fully grasp Howard’s quiet grief.
Mandy and Otis were also prominent in his sketches, their relationship a whirlwind of affection and conflict. One moment tender and loving, the next fierce and volatile. Mandy’s fiery nature, an unfortunate legacy from her Allen lineage, often put Otis at risk, yet their connection was undeniable.
Jason appeared frequently in Conner’s drawings, often in exaggerated, comedic scenarios. Conner’s playful depictions were a nod to Jason’s chaotic energy, though Jason himself insisted these were not a true representation of his character.
Conner never drew himself; the idea felt strangely unsettling. However, there was one drawing that stood out. It was a simple sketch in brown charcoal of a girl with tousled hair and bright, curious eyes, her lips curved in a subtle smile. She was surrounded by computers and technical equipment, hinting at her role at the Harvest Grove Fertilizer Company.
He had never shown this drawing to anyone. Jason would likely call it a “Stalker Sketch” and tease Conner mercilessly. Besides, now was not the time for distractions—developing a crush on someone he might never meet was the last thing he needed.
Conner swallowed hard and forced himself to focus. He flipped past the drawing of the girl and found a blank page. Gripping his pencil tightly, he began to sketch the James symbol. Each stroke was deliberate, a quiet act of meditation amidst the chaos. The symbol was a source of comfort and connection to his Coven, a small rebellion against the uncertainty looming over them.