Nora's POV
Pull yourself together.
Tonight is supposed to be about having a good time with my friends. No stress. No anxiety. No chasing after strange sensations that are probably just the result of too many vodka tonics. I stretch my arms out and shake my hands vigorously, trying to release all the nervous energy making me feel so on edge.
I return to the main area of the bar, and Ophelia drags me onto the dance floor. A while later, I'm hot and sweaty, but I still can't shake this feeling that something dangerous is lurking nearby, ready to strike.
There's a tiny late-night restaurant across the street from the bar that stays open late, probably making a fortune off all the drunk people who stumble over there every night. I order a hotdog Chicago style, naturally and a Coke for the caffeine boost. I sit on a bench along the sidewalk while I eat, watching people come and go from the bar.
