Determined to help Aiden, since the wimps we go to school with are clearly more intent on watching the action unfold, I rush up to the nearest guy and swing my arm out, expecting to hit flesh, but a blur of olive green tackles him to the ground.
Mason punches the guy in the face as Julian pulls a guy off Aiden, who was doing fairly well for taking on four guys—he managed to break someone’s nose, forcing him to run out of the room.
Noah comes out of nowhere and pushes me behind him. “Amelia, get out of here, there are a lot more crashers from Commack Silver High on their way, and they’re dying for a fight.”
He joins in just as more guys from Commack Silver do as well. Aiden, Mason, Noah, and Julian are now facing two of the blindsiders and the eight newcomers, and I notice Chase has just entered out of nowhere and joined Aiden’s side in the face-off.
Noah told me to leave, but I’m glued to the spot. My legs will not move. I can’t remember how to do anything but stand in one spot and stare at the unfolding scene.
It’s ten against five. Oh my God.
The other partygoers look more shocked and scared than I do, so my hopes of someone else jumping in are dashed.
I’m moving before my brain realizes what I’m doing, as if my reasoning has shut off and given over to instinct. All I can think is: It’s uneven, someone has to help. Someone has to do something. It’s uneven.
Just as one of the guys is about to lunge at Noah, I jump in front of him and take a swing at his face, my attack taking him off guard and knocking him to the floor. He looks up at me in shock and rage, and all nine standing C. S. guys shift their attention to me with venomous glares.
Then all hell really breaks loose.
Aiden reaches me first, grabbing me and throwing me behind him, taking a protective stance. The remaining guys all pounce at him, and our friends jump in to help Aiden defend me, their grunts and swears chilling me to the bone.
Aiden fights one guy, all while never moving from in front of me.
It happens before I can warn anyone. Another guy from C. S. High grabs an empty beer bottle and swings it with all his might right on Noah’s head. The sound of glass shattering is like a bullet to my pounding heart, and I watch in horror as Noah collapses to the floor. There’s blood coming from the gash in Noah’s head, and it’s seeping onto the floor.
The sudden realization of how serious this situation is must have hit everyone at the same time Noah hit the floor. Girls scream and cry, and I vaguely realize one of the voices is my own.
Aiden pounces on the guy who attacked Noah, beating him mercilessly. The remaining boys from Commack Silver High try to scatter, grabbing the injured guys and running from the house as quickly as they can carry them. Racing to Aiden, who’s still punching the attacker on the floor, I yell, “Aiden! Aiden, stop! Please!”
He stills and looks at me with raging eyes, breathing heavy.
“We need to help Noah,” I plead.
He looks at the guy on the floor, and comes down from his blind rage, getting off of him.
He grabs my upper arms and shakes me. “How stupid are you? Why would you jump in the middle of that? You could’ve gotten hurt!”
“Aiden! I’m okay—we need to help Noah.”
Anna’s already sitting with Noah, trying to stop the bleeding with a shirt. Some guys are helping escort the bottle attacker Aiden knocked out from the house.
Mason’s on the phone with someone while pacing in frustration—something about an ambulance. Kneeling beside Aiden on the floor, I notice the gash on Noah’s head is bigger than it originally seemed, and there is some glass sticking out.
Someone hands me a towel and I pass it to Anna, who discards the shirt and presses the clean towel against Noah’s head, being careful to avoid messing with the glass. I hear all the boys around me swearing. Chase says something to Mason about calling Noah’s parents. Charlotte is crying beside me, staring at the blood on the floor.
Poor, sweet, Noah. Why him? He’s the nicest, goofiest, easiest guy to get along with. And now he’s on the floor, unconscious and bleeding.
Damn it, where is this ambulance?
I stay on the floor with Noah and gently run my hand over his forehead, scared to do anything because of the glass lodged in his bleeding gash. Mason is still frantically speaking into the phone, talking to Noah’s parents from the sound of it. Chase is consoling a crying Charlotte, and Julian is running around gathering more towels.
And Aiden—he’s standing near the door that he just opened for the ambulance, taking in the scene with a blank, impassive face. But I notice the undeniable rage he’s managing to control. The anger is in his eyes—they look deadly and murderous, ready to take on and destroy anything that stands in his way.
Noah’s secured on the stretcher, and an oxygen mask is fixed over his mouth. Since only one person is allowed to ride in the ambulance with him, Mason follows him in without hesitation.
With the ambulance gone, the adrenaline slowly drains from the room. We turn to look at one another, and at the mess in Noah’s house, amplified from the fight. Blood, broken glass, and furniture are everywhere, mixed with scattered cups and bottles.
Chase is the first to speak, unwrapping his arms from around Charlotte and intertwining his fingers with hers. “I called us a taxi. I’m going to take Charlotte home, then sleep these drinks off before going to the hospital to see Noah.” He looks at me. “Amelia?”