The Glass Room•

The air in the dorm room was thick with the scent of buttered popcorn, sweet perfume, and that specific, electric energy of six girls who had over a decade of history stitched into their souls.

"If the main character goes into the basement one more time, I’m personally going to find the director and demand a refund on my sanity," Roxie drawled, kicking her legs over the arm of the oversized beanbag.

She reached for a handful of popcorn, her eyes never leaving the screen where a masked killer was creeping through shadows.

Harley laughed, the sound warm and easy. She was tucked into the corner of the couch, her head resting on Caroline’s shoulder.

They’d been doing this since they were six years old the Harley and Caroline duo, the sun and the moon of their little universe.

"It’s a horror movie, Rox. Logic is the first thing that dies," Caroline countered, her fingers idly braiding a small section of Harley’s blonde hair. "Besides, you’d be the one suggesting we investigate the 'strange noise' just to prove you aren't scared."

"I am a creature of logic and self-preservation, thank you very much," Roxie shot back with a wink.

Across the room, Joanna was perched at the small desk, her laptop open but her attention mostly on the group. "Statistically, the basement is the least safe place in any residential structure during a home invasion. But since we’re safe in a dorm on a Saturday night, I think we can let it slide for the sake of the plot."

"Always with the statistics, Jo," Tiffany giggled, her bright pink manicured nails flashing as she adjusted the fuzzy blanket draped over her and Wendy. Tiffany was the spark plug of the group, the girl who could find a silver lining in a hurricane. "I just think they should’ve stayed in the car. If I have a flat tire in a storm, I’m staying locked inside until the sun comes up. Period."

Wendy, the quietest of the bunch, simply nodded, her eyes wide as she watched the screen. "I wouldn't even have gone on the trip. I would’ve stayed home and ordered pizza."

"And that’s why we love you, Wendy," Harley said, reaching out to squeeze Wendy's foot through the blanket. "You're the only one of us with actual common sense."

For a few hours, the world outside didn't exist. There were no exams to worry about, no looming graduations that would send them to different corners of the country, no pressure to be anything other than the girls they had always been.

They were a fortress of friendship built on shared secrets, scraped knees, and the kind of loyalty that didn't need to be spoken to be felt.

As the second movie faded into the third, the banter slowed. The room grew warm, the only light coming from the flickering blue glow of the TV and the string of fairy lights Harley had hung over her bed.

"I'm gonna miss this," Tiffany whispered, her voice heavy with sleep. "Next weekend, we're all back at our own schools. No more marathons for a while."

"We’ll make time," Harley promised, her eyes drooping. "Twelve years, Tiff. We haven't let life get in the way yet. We aren't starting now."

Caroline shifted slightly, her cheek resting against the top of Harley’s head. "Always," she murmured. "It's us against the world, right?"

"Always," Harley echoed.

One by one, the girls succumbed to the heaviness of their eyelids. The movie credits rolled in silence, the names of strangers scrolling past as the six best friends drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, tangled together in a nest of blankets and shared history.

Harley’s last conscious thought was the feeling of Caroline’s steady breathing and the comfort of being surrounded by the people who knew her heart better than she knew it herself.

She didn't hear the vent above the door hiss.

She didn't see the faint, sweet-smelling mist that began to settle over the room like a shroud.

And she had no idea that when she closed her eyes, the world she knew the world of laughter, dorm rooms, and safe basements was ending forever.