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the chance, and now I was frozen where I stood. What the hell was I doing here?
    "It's okay," Killian said and gently rubbed my back. I resisted the urge to reject his comfort, but just barely. He was the recipient of my only growing friendship, and I needed to become accustomed to social norms. People touched each other for comfort. I knew that. I just always tried to avoid it. Until now. No, right now, I needed to be sheltered, protected.
    Screw that . I had no business being around a bunch of people I didn't know. What if someone tried to hurt me again? No one was safe to be around. Anybody could look innocent and then tear your world apart. I'd been a victim because I'd been stupid. And young. I was neither of those things anymore. I flinched, my body preparing to flee. I needed to get the hell out of Dodge! But there were too many people. Maybe I could just find someplace safe to hide until everybody left, then I'd be safe...
    "Easy," a deep voice murmured as a hand squeezed my shoulder.
    I gaped up at the person busting through my panicked haze. Right. Killian was here. He wouldn't hurt me, would he? His touch was gentle, as if he were reassuring me, erasing my doubts. No, for some reason I knew he wouldn't attack me. I didn't know him well, but deep down I knew that to be true. You were just questioning your instincts though, remember? God, I was a mess.
    My head jerked in some semblance of a nod, I hoped, and he dropped his hand. I could do this. Be normal. At least for tonight. I took a fortifying breath. No, dammit. Starting tonight. This was why I was here. I would do this. My therapists would call this progress, be impressed with my ability to face my fears. But they'd only be partly right. I knew the real reason I was doing this and it was out of guilt for my sister. Whatever drove my motivation, the result would still be the same.
    "Let's head to the bar. Get some drinks?" he asked, but he was watching me, waiting for me to show any signs of being ready to proceed. I wasn't ready, but I didn't have a choice. I needed to do this.
    "Okay."
    He turned, and I followed behind him since his body forged a path within the horde. He got a couple of pats on the back that I dodged with forced stealth. It was either that or risk getting slapped in the head on accident. When he stopped, I'd been following so closely that I almost barreled right into his back. Thankfully, I stopped in time to avoid that minor embarrassment. I didn't need any more of those tonight.
    "This way," he said over his shoulder. I followed as he maneuvered his way to the side where the punch bowl was. He turned to face me. "I'm sure it's spiked, so if you don't want alcohol, don't get the red stuff." He reached for a canned soda, and I did the same. I wasn't opposed to drinking booze, but I had my reasons for usually avoiding it. I hadn't been of legal age very long, and the few times I'd indulged, I was worried I'd be called out on it. Just because someone turned twenty-one didn't mean the fear of getting caught with a beer would just go away. The initial instinct to hide guilt was too ingrained, and I tried to avoid things that drew attention. Then again, said guilt could've been the result of being raised in the Bible belt. The other reason was because I didn't like the smell of some kinds of liquor. Brought up bad memories of some events I tried best to forget.
    Regardless of any past or present reasons I usually shied away from the stuff, there was no telling what, or how much, had been put in the punch. Frankly, I wasn't willing to drink something with a liquor-to-punch ratio that was more likely to put me in the hospital than garner a nice buzz.
    Killian popped open his drink and guzzled some down. I opened mine and looked around cautiously as I sipped. I wasn't sure how to do this . Be sociable. I wondered if I should start the conversation, but what should I ask? I could mention how nice it was it hasn't stormed lately, but that was cheesy. I