~Sandy's POV~
The bass thumped through the old wooden beams of the barn like a heartbeat, vibrating up my legs as I pushed through the crowd. It was one of those epic summer nights in rural Indiana, the kind where the air hangs heavy with humidity and the scent of bonfires mixes with cheap beer and teenage sweat.
The barn house party was in full swing, hosted by some guy from the community college whose parents owned this sprawling farm. Strings of fairy lights dangled from the rafters, casting a warm glow over clusters of people dancing, laughing, and spilling drinks on the hay-strewn floor.
I was Sandy Evans, twenty-one and freshly done with my sophomore year, nursing a red solo cup of something fruity and spiked. My best friend, Matthew Grant, stuck close by my side, his arm slung c
