The tux boy began to run his hands up and down Sara's arms and back. He leaned into her and whispered drunkenly into her ear. "You're soooo soft, Little Mama. Soft like a little bunny. My hoppity boppity little bunny."

Sara squirmed. She wriggled her arms, struggling to free herself from the boy's arms. But he was so strong. 

He chuckled, his breath tickling her cheek as she thrashed against his chest. 

"Let me GO!" she grumbled. She couldn't deny this boy was very attractive. Really, really attractive if she actually admitted it to herself. But something about him was off. He seemed dangerous. But he continued to laugh at her. 

"Come on, little bunny. You're doing great. But you can't get free. Not from me." 

She gave one last frantic struggle and then gave up, lying limply in his hold. No one could hear her over the loud music anyway. And she couldn't turn her head around to see where Erin had gone. 

The tux boy dragged her up against his chest. Their noses were almost touching. He bent to kiss her. 

She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around his neck...and then SHOVED him as hard as she could away. 

He was caught off guard. His torso snapped backwards, just enough for her to free herself from his grasp. Then she dove through the crowd and all but ran as fast as she could in her heels. 

Erin where are you? she thought wildly. She hurried across the tile floor, staggering over the fallen cups and spilled beer. She whipped around the corner, towards the light, and smacked right into another guy. 

"TREVOR!" she screamed. She flung her arms around his neck and all but burst into tears. Or was it laughter?

Trevor's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Whoa, Sara Sweet? Everything all right?"

He took her elbow and led her into the kitchen.

It was HUGE! Stainless steel appliances glittered like Christmas ornaments against the bright, overhead lights. An enormous island was covered with bottles of alcohol and stacks of clean, red plastic cups. The glass table overlooking massive floor-to-ceiling windows was littered with catered sandwiches, desserts, burgers, and pizza.

Sara seated herself at one of the barstools at the island.

Trevor got her a bottle of water.

"Where's Erin," Sara asked as she took a sip.

Trevor took a swig from his plastic cup. She guessed by the glassy look in his eyes, the cup was filled with one of the bottles of vodka on the counter. She didn't bother to remind him that they were all underage.

"Ladies' room!" Trevor said. He stuffed a cookie from the dessert plate into his mouth.

Sara rolled her eyes. Erin had obviously gone to reapply her makeup now that she had found Trevor. She took a sip from her water. To think that Erin, her oldest friend, had ditched her for Trevor was repulsive. She had nearly been attacked by a strange boy!

Sara noticed Trevor wore a tux. She raised her eyes to Trevor's face.

"What's with the getup?" she asked, pointing to his bow tie. She wanted to check if the bow tie was real or clipped on.

Trevor followed her gaze. "It's real, Sara. Jeez, I have some class, you know." He patted the bow tie. "Just don't go and untie it. I could never tie this son of a gun back again."

Sara giggled. She pulled up her spaghetti strap. The tux boy from the other room had nearly taken it off her shoulder.

"Anyway, the boys and I were at a secret event earlier today. Involved gambling LOTS of money." Trevor poured Sara a drink and pushed it over to her on the counter.

She scowled at him. She hated gamblers.

"Don't bother to ask me about it," he snapped, noticing her expression. "Because a certain lump head here took a thousand bucks off me. Pretty sure he cheated."

Sara sniffed her cup. The vodka smelled strong, but minty. She took a tentative sip. It was pretty good! She drank it down, coughing a little at the sharp aftertaste.

"Here, take this." Trevor handed her a lime coated in sugar. She bit into it. The burn in her throat subsided.

"Look who made it out alive," a voice called.

Sara jerked her head up.