Hating Grayson ✓

10

It only took about five seconds into the party for Mitchell to disappear, leaving me to the foyer that was filled with overly talkative people.

"You decided to show up!" Hannah appeared beside me in the foyer, scaring the fuck out of me.

"Surprise." I said. "Where is the rest of our group?"

"Oh, they're in the garage playing beer pong." Hannah stated, drinking the last of whatever liquid was swimming in her cup.

"Let's go get a drink." She linked her arm with mine and lead me through the crowd, headed for the liquor that scattered across the top of the dining-room cabinet.

"I don't know... I don't really feel like drinking." I told her.

"Oh, are you okay?" She wondered.

"Not really." Was my response.

Just thinking about alcohol made me think about what happened the last time I was under it's influence. I could not risk it.

"A drink will make you feel so much better." Hannah said, already pouring herself a drink before pouring me one.

She handed it to me with a smile on her face.

"I guess one won't hurt me." I said, returning her smile.

Again, she linked her arm with mine and we headed towards the garage to join the rest of our crew.

"Look who decided to show up!" Hannah squealed.

"Dal! Thank god!" Cody said. "This is fate!"

Huh?

"We need you to join our team." Phillip says.

"I don't know the first thing about alcoholic ping pong." I stated.

"It's beer pong, and it's easy." Cody explained. "All you have to do is get this ball into the other side's cup."

"Okay. But just one game!" I said.

That was a big fat lie. It didn't end up being just one game. When I got the ball in first, I thought it was a total fluke. But then I kept getting the ball in, and I've rarely won at anything in my life, so this was an entirely new concept to me. Many games later, I was up against a guy I had never met before. He only had one cup left, whereas I had three. I held the ping pong ball in my hand as I raised it backward a tad before throwing it over to he other side of the table, waiting for it to plop into the cup.

And it did.

The invested crowd surrounding the table all cheered. "Damn, Dal! You're a fucking machine!" Phillip said, standing beside me with a beer in hand.

I was pretty buzzed, despite saying that I was only going to have one drink. I didn't know the exact number of drinks I have had, but it was definitely more than one. And I must express that beer is highly disgusting, but oddly enough, after being able to stomaching the first few—barely, I might add—I had grown used to it's repulsive taste.

After winning that last game, I decided to give up while I was ahead and make my way back inside the house. My friends and I walked into the living room and took a seat one of the couches.