The first night at the cabin was going well—suspiciously well.

No one had fought yet. Blake hadn't done anything to make Bryan throw him into the lake (yet), and Isabella was too entranced by the hot tub to be her usual chaotic self.

Dinner had been a mess of burned toast and half-successful pasta, but it was fine. No one had food poisoning, so we were considering it a win.

Now, we were all curled up in the living room, sitting around the huge stone fireplace, wrapped in thick blankets, the glow of the flames casting shadows on the wooden walls.

It was cozy, peaceful—until Ethan decided to ruin it.

"Alright, let's make this interesting," he said, grinning as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Ghost stories."

I groaned immediately. "No."

Ethan smirked. "Yes."

Kyle stretched out on the couch, looking entirely unbothered. "Ghosts aren't real."

Ethan shot him a look. "You're gonna regret saying that."

Isabella grinned, already invested. "Okay, but if this is a real ghost story, it has to have, like, history. No making stuff up on the spot."

Ethan's grin turned borderline evil. "Oh, this one's real."

Bryan sighed beside me, his arm stretched along the back of the couch behind me. "This is gonna be stupid."

"Shut up and listen," Ethan said, dramatically lowering his voice. "So, this cabin? Built in the 1950s. But before that, the land belonged to this guy—old, lived alone in the woods, total hermit. People in town said he was into weird shit. Like, witchcraft, talking to spirits, that kind of thing."

I shifted uncomfortably, pulling my blanket tighter around me.

Ethan noticed and smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

"One night," he continued, voice dropping even lower, "people in town started hearing screams coming from the woods. Loud. Like, someone being torn apart kind of screams."

Isabella wiggled her fingers dramatically. "Ooooooh."

Ethan ignored her.

"The next day, the guy's house was empty. Not a single thing left behind—like he had just disappeared into thin air. No body. No footprints. Just... gone."

The fire crackled loudly, making me flinch slightly.

Bryan immediately noticed.

Ethan grinned, leaning forward even more. "And the creepiest part? People say you can still hear him sometimes—especially in winter, when it's quiet. A low, whispering voice, right outside the cabin."

Silence.

The room suddenly felt colder.

The wind outside howled softly, rattling the windows just enough to make me regret every decision that led me to this moment.

Then, Kevin—who had been silent this whole time—suddenly whispered, "Did you guys hear that?"

I jumped so hard I almost fell off the couch.

Isabella shrieked, nearly knocking into Blake. Ethan burst out laughing.

Bryan, completely unfazed, just pulled me closer into his side, his arm fully wrapping around my shoulders now.

"Nice try, dumbasses," he muttered, but he still shot Kevin a glare.

Kevin, to his credit, at least looked a little guilty. "Sorry, that was too easy."

I exhaled, trying to slow my racing heart. "I hate all of you."

Ethan grinned. "Aw, come on. It's just a story."

I glared at him. "I hope a ghost haunts your dumb hot tub."

Ethan just snickered.

Bryan's grip tightened on me slightly. "You actually scared?" he murmured near my ear, his voice quieter now, just for me.

I huffed, burying myself deeper into my blanket. "No."

"Uh-huh," he said, but he pulled me even closer anyway.

I tried to ignore how warm he was, how easy it was to just sink against him.

Ethan clapped his hands together. "Alright! Who's up next?"

Kyle stretched, yawning. "I have one. It's about an idiot who told a ghost story and got thrown into the snow."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

Kyle grinned. "Bet."

Before Ethan could react, Kyle launched off the couch and tackled him, sending them both crashing to the floor.

Kevin, cackling, grabbed a pillow and started beating Ethan with it. Isabella and Blake were cry-laughing in the corner.

Bryan, shaking his head, muttered, "Bunch of idiots."

I just curled further into his side, fully accepting my fate of being wrapped up in him for the rest of the night.

Maybe ghost stories weren't so bad.

I knew I shouldn't have let Ethan tell that stupid ghost story.

I knew it was fake.

I knew the creepy wind outside was just nature doing its thing and not, in fact, the whispering voice of some cursed hermit from the 1950s.

And yet—here I was at 2 a.m., fully convinced we were about to die.

Isabella was huddled under her blanket, gripping my arm like her life depended on it, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered.

I gulped. "Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Isabella, I heard it."

We both stared at the ceiling, listening to the soft creaks and groans of the old cabin as the wind whistled outside.

"Maybe it's just the wind," Isabella whispered, clearly trying to convince herself.

I nodded quickly. "Yeah. Probably."

Then, something outside made a noise.

A soft thump.

Like a footstep.

That was it. We lost it.

We screamed at the exact same time, clinging to each other, flailing under the blankets like we were being actively murdered.

The door to our room slammed open, and in a blur, Bryan and Ethan stormed in, both looking half-asleep and fully ready to commit violence.

Bryan was shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his hair a complete mess.

Ethan was worse. His eyes were barely open, his hair sticking up in twenty directions, and he looked one more loud noise away from actual murder.

"What the fuck is going on?" Bryan demanded, his voice low and scratchy from sleep.

We screamed again, because a giant shadowy figure had just entered the room.

"IT GOT INSIDE!" Isabella shrieked, throwing a pillow at Bryan, who just grunted and caught it mid-air.

Kyle and Kevin stumbled in right after, both looking like they had just been dragged from the afterlife.

Kyle rubbed his eyes. "Who's dying?"

Kevin yawned. "If it's not an actual murder, I'm leaving."

"IT WAS OUTSIDE!" I wailed, clutching Isabella like she was my last hope.

Ethan stared at us. "...What?"

"The ghost!" Isabella whisper-screamed. "It was outside! We heard it!"

Bryan exhaled so hard his whole body shifted. He turned around, pressing both hands to his face like he was praying for patience.

Ethan just blinked. "You woke up the entire cabin... over the wind?"

"It was NOT the wind!" Isabella yelled, pointing dramatically at the window. "It made a noise!"

Kevin groaned, turning to leave. "I'm going back to bed."

Kyle followed him. "Wake me up if an actual demon shows up."

I ignored them, still gripping Isabella like we were in a horror movie.

Bryan sighed again, running a hand down his face. "Jesus Christ."

Then, before I could react, he grabbed my arm and pulled me out of bed.

I yelped. "What are you doing?"

"You're sleeping with me," he muttered, already dragging me toward the door.

My brain short-circuited. "WHAT?"

"You clearly can't sleep here, and I'm not waking up to you screaming again. Let's go."

I flailed. "I—Bryan—I can't just—"

Ethan, still standing there, just smirked. "You can take Amber, but I'm not taking Isabella."

Isabella's betrayed gasp was instant.

Blake, who had been silent this whole time, suddenly sighed. "I'll take her."

Silence.

The entire room went still.

Isabella's face turned bright red.

Ethan grinned like he had just won the lottery. "Oh, this is interesting."

Blake just shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "She's clearly not sleeping alone, and I don't want to deal with her screaming either."

Isabella made a choking noise, looking between me and Bryan like she was reconsidering her entire life.

Bryan, completely unbothered, just lifted me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and started walking out.

"BRYAN, PUT ME DOWN!"

"Not a chance."

"Ethan, HELP ME!"

Ethan snickered. "Nah, I'm enjoying this too much."

I kicked my feet uselessly as Bryan carried me down the hall. "YOU ARE THE WORST!"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, fully ignoring me as he reached his room and dropped me straight onto his bed.

I huffed, crossing my arms as he slid in beside me.

He just pulled the blanket over both of us, completely relaxed.

"Go to sleep, Ballerina."

I glared at him. "You're insufferable."

He smirked, eyes closing. "And yet, here you are."

I hated that he was right.

Meanwhile, back in the hallway...

Isabella stood frozen, eyes still wide in shock as Blake gestured toward his room.

"Are you coming, or are you gonna stand here all night?"

She opened her mouth, closed it, then finally managed to speak. "You don't... mind?"

Blake shrugged. "Why would I?"

Her face burned even hotter.

Ethan, still standing there, watching everything unfold like it was the best movie of his life, finally clapped his hands together.

"Alright, this is officially better than TV."

Isabella glared. "Ethan, I swear to God—"

He grinned, backing away. "Hey, I'm just saying, if anything happens, I wanna know about it in the morning."

Blake just sighed, already walking into his room. "You coming or not?"

Isabella made a strangled noise, then stomped after him, slamming the door behind her.

Ethan, still standing in the hallway, just whispered to himself, "Best. Trip. Ever."