𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐮𝐧, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 (𝟐)

06 𝘈 𝘉𝘈𝘋 𝘋𝘙𝘜𝘕𝘒

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faster than i had liked, the fishers beach house had filled with adolescents, enough to make me gag as i pushed my way past them.

"jere, you work fast." i grunted, finally finding someone i knew in this house. he smiled into his red solo cup as i hoisted myself up on the kitchen counter he was leaning on, "not to mention how you managed to fill your jeep with beer within ten minutes." i flung the many beer cans and bottles onto the floor to make room for my butt and feet.

"i know people." he smirked over at me, "im not the innocent jere-bear anymore, macee." he winked, and i shivered in disgust. it was fake, though, he knew it too.

i ruffled his hair, pulling him into a head lock that made him spill his beer. he groaned like a toddler and pushed him off of me, then tripping over the beer cans.

"look, you're already drunk!" i gasped, and he sent me a lazy, drunk, finger gun, "not so bear-ish now am i-" he slipped on a solo cup, and slid down toward the floor with a yelp.

i was gasping for air.

"jeremiah!" belly flung into the kitchen, "are you already wasted?"

"wasting what?" jeremiah's head flew up, oblivious.

us girls laughed, and i shook my head at her.

"well we're waisting time not dancing!" belly exclaimed over the heavy music that had just begun, "lets go. lets go." her hand went out toward me, and i smacked it away.

something told me belly had a little to drink too, because the way she grabbed me again and pulled me roughly to the living room didnt seem like her usual, gentle, manner.

"just dance, macee," she loosely moved her body to the music, her voice reeking of carelessness, "let your body flow with the music."

i raised a brow at her, but looked around us.

all these kids, these teens, were half wasted and dancing like they were either on fire or in slow motion. they didnt have a care in the world, or abandoning (or dead) mothers, or terrible fathers, or emotional exhaustion. at least, for tonight they didnt.

so neither should i.

i listened to belly. i danced to the music, denied the hands of boys years younger than me, and drinks from much much older, and just lived in my own world. next to belly's.

i danced. and i felt free. and i felt like flying.

jeremiah had joined us at some point, taking turns spinning belly and i around and dipping belly so low that he dropped her to the floor. i hadnt remembered falling, but i was suddenly laughing into the hardwood.

"how much have you had to drink?" someone was talking over me, and i rolled over, letting my hair completely cover my face.

"nothing." i laughed, shaking my head. though, i did feel drunk.

"i dont believe you." it was conrad, who's arms picked me up from my torso and placed me back on my feet.

he cleared my face of hair, and took my small head in his big hands. he looked into my eyes, and the drunken feeling came back. i felt as if he was peering into my soul.

"how much have you had to drink?" he asked seriously, and i laughed.

i kissed him instead of answering.

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"OH MY GOSH-" the yelp of a startled woman woke me up from deep slumber, and i jolted up right in my bed. i groaned from the pounding it had sent to my brain.