Sluts Have Feelings

11. Sanguine

Sluts Have Feelings |Eleven|

Sanguine: adjective 1 cheerful, confident 2 optimistic or positive ORIGIN middle English: from Old French

Camilla Lau Brooks.

Instead of going home and dealing with my parents, I decided to break out and go clubbing. I was an adult and highly capable of making my own decisions, but when my parents were home, they felt the need to control every aspect of my life. If I came home to find that the school had called, no doubt that they did, there would be a lot of yelling and cursing because my parents seem to think I'm "throwing my life away." It's annoying sometimes, but deep down I love my parents and know they only want what's best for me. They are quite aware of me being a slut. They know I party, but it's not like they can do anything to stop it.

It's not like they can try and make me go to rehab.

Deciding I could not go clubbing in my cheer leading uniform, I directed the taxi I was currently in to Regina's apartment. Regina, who lived by herself, wouldn't mind if I changed into some of her clothes. We share clothes all of the time; we each probably have half of each other's wardrobe in our own. It was a thing best friends did, and something only best friends would tolerate from each other. All of my other bitches, besides Claire, had to ask before they took something from my closet. I was picky like that.

Wanting to look good, I stayed about an hour at Regina's apartment getting ready. I re-curled my blond hair before pinning it up, forcing it to stay with half a can of hairspray. I always hated leaving it down when I was going to the club. It was always annoying and getting in the way. Plus, it made it fifty times hotter than it already was.

I pulled on one of Regina's wine colored dresses so that is rested right below my butt and paired it with gold heels that almost matched the highlights in my hair. My lips were painted a deep wine color to match the gorgeous dress. Icy eyes were lined with a dark wing before deciding that was enough. I didn't feel like going all out with my appearance. I could get a guy with or without any makeup; I just felt that the piling tons of makeup was in the description of a slut. I liked it most of the time its just sometimes I wish I could bare everything, and I'm not talking about clothes.

Glancing at the clock, I decided I should probably get going. It was late enough to not seem like a drunk, but early enough for the place to not be crowded. Also, school would be getting out soon and I didn't want to be here when Regina arrived. Surely, she would want to talk about what happened but I just wanted to forget about it. I still hadn't come up with an acceptable excuse for the way I had acted.

The taxi driver kept looking back at me and licking his lips, but I payed him no mind. I just wanted to get to the club quickly, so I can forget about everything. I needed to drown my sorrows, I guess they weren't exactly sorrows, in liquor. This was a suck ass day, and I just wanted to Ctrl + alt + delete it from my memory. That's how bad it was.

I went to the same club as yesterday. Really it was just for the hot bartender. He was my goal tonight to fill the spot (no pun intended) of John #5.

The music was pumping as I entered the scene. It was some bubbly rap sang that made you want to jump, and that's what everyone was doing. The people who go to the club earlier than 5 pm are way different than the ones that go later in the night. It's like once the clock strikes 5 pm the whole atmosphere changes. I loved how a strike of the clock could make a whole building change. It was amazingly different.

So many one night stands, bar fights, grinding. It was fantastic. The euphoric scene screwed with emotions. It made you seem happy- forget that you got suspended at school that day. I went from wanting to rip someones head off to wanting to stick my tongue down multiple stranger's throats. It was weird- like a period. I didn't like periods, but I had some strong feelings for clubbing.