Like any party, it took over a half hour for people to start showing up, and when one group arrived, they all did. Within minutes, Ivy's house had gone from a house to one quiet teen, to a raging house party of over thirty. At first, Ivy was worried her inexperience in this environment would be obvious. So at the beginning of the party, Ivy hung out against the wall and just observed all the people. Every time a new group of people arrived the house would erupt into cheers, followed by a drunk guide leading them into the kitchen.
Ivy could tell that the people at the party were no newbies to the situation. Unlike Ivy, everyone else drank the alcoholic concoction with no issue. Ivy had been nursing the same drink for hours and still didn't think it tasted any better than before. Remembering Elijah's advice, Ivy tipped her head back as she chugged the remaining half of her drink.
With a now-empty cup, Ivy made her way toward the kitchen. As she made her way closer, the collection of people seemed to get denser and denser. Like vultures to dead prey, These teens were circling the drinks greedily searching for more.
When Ivy finally made it to the fountain of booze, she noticed the drink she and Elijah made was already gone, and replaced with some mixture of store-brand Dr. Pepper and mystery alcohol. Her first drink beginning to kick in, Ivy carelessly dipped her red plastic cup into the punch bowl. As she withdrew the cup, she saw the dribbles of liquid pouring down its edge. She could already feel the soda making her hands sticky.
Choosing to drink away her discomfort, Ivy took a large glug from her cup. Although she could still taste the burn of alcohol, she noticed that Elijah was right about her drink making her less nervous. Even though she was hesitant to talk to anyone, she no longer looked away when people made eye contact. Instead, she grinned at them, and she was happily met with a mildly intoxicated grin back. Regularly she would have been concerned that she was smiling the same way, but her drink had made all her anxiety disappear. For the time being, Ivy felt like she was ten pounds lighter. She didn't have any concerns about her dementia, and she wasn't even remotely depressed.
Before Ivy knew it, her second drink was all gone. When she went into the kitchen to fill it up again she bumped into Zoey. Ivy used to think Zoey didn't care about the school's dress code based on the regular appearance of her two best friends, but Ivy was wrong. It turned out that how Zoey dressed in school was conservative compared to tonight. Tonight she was squeezed into a black fitted mini skirt, topped with a black lacy corset. It was impossible for Ivy not to stare at her breasts, which looked dangerously close to popping out of her top.
"OMG! Ivy! Hi!" Zoey slammed into Ivy as she forced a hug onto her. "Thanks for letting us use your place. It's so awesome. And the drinks are delicious." Although she wasn't slurring her words, Ivy could tell from the smell of Zoey's breath that she was definitely drunk. Releasing her from the unexpected hug, Zoey took a big sip from her drink and smacked her lips.
"Thanks..." Ivy hesitated. After their interaction today in Math class, Ivy was convinced Zoey must have drunkenly mistaken her for someone else. Her eyes rapidly scanned the room for an easy escape. If Zoey realized who she was, Ivy did not want to be there for the inevitable verbal abuse. Frozen in place, Ivy waited for Zoey to make the first move.
Zoey barely allowed an awkward silence to form. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier in Math. I meant it to be an insult to Elijah, it had nothing to do with you." She placed her hand on Ivy's shoulder like a mother would an upset child. Apparently, if something mean is said to you, it only counts if the person intended it. Ivy sure wished she could live in Zoey's little world.
Wanting to end this interaction as soon as possible, Ivy forced her face into a grin. "No worries. It's forgotten." With a dismissive wave of her hand, Ivy dipped her cup back into the communal bowl. Grateful for an excuse not to continue speaking, Ivy took a large sip. By her third drink, she barely noticed the burn of the alcohol. The only thing Ivy noticed was the punch had been refilled again, this time with cola.
YOU ARE READING
Looking Through the Cracks
Teen Fiction**How do you win a battle against yourself?** Meet Ivy Fitzgerald, a teenage girl from a small town in New Hampshire who attends an even smaller high school. While her classmates focus on gossip and grades, Ivy only cares about two things: taking ca...
