thirty eight part one

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SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND VIOLENCE/RAPE TRIGGER WARNING: Read at your own risk and comfort level.

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Axel

The party was more successful than I thought it'd be. There were a few under-classmen here and there, but there were definitely a ton of seniors. They brought extra kegs, extra drugs, and extra chicks. I was surprised by how full the house was getting, it was big enough for a mass party, but I think it was overflowing.

People pushed through to get in and to get out. The noise level was righteous: music blaring, people laughing, feet stomping. You could feel the party, and it felt amazing.

"Axel!" A senior from my History class came up to me, cup tipping a little. "Stellar party, my man!" I nodded and smiled uneasy. He sounded like a 70's movie. Kind of looked like it too.

"Thanks, glad you're enjoying!" I yelled over the noise, giving him the bro shake and moving on. Fletch had meet and greet duty, Isaac had DJ duty, Caleb had refreshment duty, and I had make-sure-no-one-gets-hurt duty. And so far, all four of us were doing a pretty good job.

I walked up to Fletch by the door, grabbing hold of his shoulder. "Have you seen her yet?"

"Not yet," he shook his head. "dude, if you saw yesterday, I wouldn't still expect her to show up."

"You're pretty close with her, right?" He shrugged. "What? I thought you two hit it off earlier in the year?" A small group of brunettes walked in and we both nodded towards them. They blushed and giggled, walking into the kitchen.

"We have art together, that's all," Fletch greeted some guy that walked in, then checked the guy behind him. "Dude, how old are you?" The guy had a decent beard going on, and he looked like he was 10 feet tall.

"Nineteen, why?" His voice sounded like that of a 40-year-old

"Because you look way too old to be here," Fletch said cautiously. The last thing we needed was this great party to come to a terrible end.

The guy shoved his hand in his pocket and we both braced ourselves. He pulled out his wallet and showed us his school ID. "Homeroom with Braam."

"Oh, Dillian buddy. I didn't recognize you with that beard. It's looking nice," I smiled and he rolled his eyes, pushing by us.

"Maybe we should've made a list," Fletch watched as a few unfamiliar faces went by.

"Then we wouldn't have said 'anyone who is anyone is invited'," I patted his back and started making my rounds of the house. The stairs were occupied by chain smoking pot heads and love sick fools making out. The dining room held the body shot tournament, where our good buddy Fisher was winning. Of course.

I made my way to the kitchen, seeing people come in and out of rooms or the outside, holding more than one bottle of beer in their hands. Drinks were still in stock, with more on the way. My brother was providing the alcohol as long as he could bring a buddy of his with him for a few joints. Seemed fair, having a huge party in our house and he can smoke some weed and neither of us get ratted by the other.

"Hey, nice party little bro," Griffin put an arm around me and ruffled my hair. "not bad for a 17-year-old on honor roll."

"What can I say," I chuckled. "being smart doesn't have to be boring."

"I notice you haven't drank or smoked anything though," his buddy said, leaning against the counter as he took a drag.

"Oh, Axel here may throw parties, but he doesn't wanna lose any of his precious brain cells," Griffin tapped my head with his finger. "he just bangs girls like he gets paid."

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