Tia and Jordan, don't they hate one another?
They're like chalk and cheese, he's the 'it' boy, life of every party and blankets the world in sarcasm. She's judgemental, opinionated and already has major trust issues when it comes to Jordan and his...
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Not only am I a woman of my word but I found a whole new incentive for attending this party tonight.
It was the classic on-campus party in one of the frat houses. I had attended them like a hundred times before but this particular one caused nervous flutterings in my stomach.
I wasn't sure what I wanted to get from tonight but I knew with absolute certainty that I didn't want to run into him.
He never turns down the opportunity to party and with Julia Benzoyl to show off under his arm he would definitely be here. Hence the nervousness.
I fixed myself a drink; vodka and coke.
I had avoided this scene for so long because I didn't want to see him give his time, affection and attention to another girl. Instead I got the daytime version thrown at my face.
I know it was my choice to back away from Jordan, he's free to be with whoever he wants, doesn't mean I want to see it.
I swallowed down the poison. Every sip was like a hollow void being consumed. Drinking was my coping mechanism, something that tasted so dangerously natural to me.
Each glass brought out my misery more and more, it made me more confident to dance alone, to mingle with strangers, to get ridiculously flirty and open myself up to the possibility of another one night stand, if he's moved on from our hook up, then I'll move on.
I hunted around the dance floor, like a lynx cat waiting to pounce on its prey. Nobody seemed like the idyllic candidate, I needed someone submissive and shy. Someone who doesn't get laid often and won't big-talk, or even if they did, nobody would believe them.
My only problem of course was the more I drank the more I didn't want just anyone. I wanted him.
That pissed me off to no ends. He broke my laptop and then flaunted his girl in my face, I was back to hating him.
For the last twelve hours I have called him every swear word known to man. I pictured his annoying smile and messy curly hair. I grit my teeth at his infuriating popping sounds and lack of basic common sense.
I promised myself I was over him because I simply could not comprehend him and his stupid sarcasm any longer but I wasn't.
Seeing him with Julia made me feel sick. I didn't even feel jealous. My stomach plummeted and I felt ill.
Fuck it. Fuck him.
I drank more.
I noticed a boy sitting on the stairs, trying to hide himself away from the chaos and stimulation of the party going on all around us. He wasn't a looker by any means, which by my standards made him a perfect target.
I'm glad he's not here.
If he was, I definitely would have made a move on him. There's nothing on this Earth that could've stopped me from making a fool out of myself and throwing my dignity at him.
