X. The Party

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   Music played loudly as people danced and swayed to the rhythmic sounds that echoed throughout the corridor.
     Heavy bass vibrated my insides ever so slightly as we made our way through the doors of a house I had never seen before.
  The walls were a dark cherry red with wood paneling along the bottom of it. There were abstract paintings on some walls that reminded me of just mushed vegetables... Colorful, but a mess.
    It smelled of alcohol with a hint of pumpkin spice. I winced and my nose crinkled slightly. I was taken back by the stench. It wasn't a pleasant mixture. More alcohol than pumpkin spice.
    As we made our way through groups of people, my eyes set onto Anthony who was sitting in a chair that was placed in the corner. Surrounded by a group of what seemed like half drunken girls. Or were they drunk? I could only go off of their obnoxious voices. None of them sounded completely sober in the least bit...

'Oh you are so handsome,' one girl giggled.
  'And he has muscles!' Another one slurred as she clung tightly to his arm.
   'Oh my gosh, his hair is so soft!' Another one who was running her hands through his messy hair chirped.
'Now now ladies, y'all really do flatter me but you see,' he started, just loud enough for me to hear over the music. It was easy to hear the drunk party girls, just for the fact that they were so out of it that they couldn't control the pitch of their voices. 'I am a shy guy,' he contorted his face into something that I could only describe as a "pity me," look...
    I raised an eyebrow as I stopped and watched. Surely he couldn't see me with all the people I had to look over...

'I just don't know how to give y'all the attention y'all need,' he looked down and wiped his eyes. Is he crying?
'A-and—'

'Oh my gosh! Shh! It's okay!' A ginger girl hushed worriedly. She pulled him to her, his head pressed firmly against her breasts that were nearly falling out of her tied up white button down...
      'Aww! I love a sensitive guy.' One of the girls squealed as she placed her hands on her cheeks. Her face red.
    The one girl from earlier continued to play with his hair.
   'This is all really—' I watched as his eyes cut towards the ginger's breasts. His cheeks flushed slightly. They couldn't see his face... He wasn't crying, he was smiling. Blushing. Was it an act? Was he seriously acting in such a way so that the girls would give him attention? '—nice.' He fake sniffled.

'Oh no! Are you crying?!' One girl with jet black hair asked whilst getting on her knees in front of him. I couldn't see his face anymore, though I could only imagine what was going through his head...
     'I-I just never had anyone be so nice and—'

'Liam,' I heard Xzavier call out. My head snapped directly to him. He was standing a little ways down the hall, near an entry to another room.
'You coming?!' He shouted, putting his hands up to his mouth as if they were going to amplify his voice.
     I shrug, 'Yeah I'm coming.' I knew he couldn't hear me. I wasn't accustomed to raising my voice in the least bit. I was more quiet, more reserved. Well, at least that's what my friends back home always said...
I made my way through the crowd, bumping into a few people and receiving smug looks in return.
'What were you doing?' Xzavier asked as he threw an arm around my shoulders and we walked into another room.
'I saw Anthony,' I started. 'I didn't know he was such a ladies man.'
Xzavier laughed, 'Me neither!'

Xzavier got acquainted with Anthony during the past week. They had a foreign language class together. An elective. They apparently were partners and decided to learn French together. Anthony talked quite a bit about Xzavier. I was glad that I didn't have to worry about roommate issues like the ones I have with Chance.

'But who knows, I suppose after a few drinks everyone becomes a sort of a helpless romantic,' he snickered. 'But not me, I don't even drink.'
    'Yeah, me neither.' I said somewhat lowly.
I never had a drop of any kind of alcohol in my life. My mother and father drank a lot of wine, and occasionally I would see a bottle of Bourbon on the counter.
    'What was that?' Xzavier inclined his ear to me.
'I said, me neither.' I repeated a little louder.
'Oh gotcha!'
     I followed him through a group of people and to a section of the room that had a pool table.

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