Dean's Princess

Prologue

I'm practically vibrating with excitement when I open the door to my apartment. Well the one I share with my best friends.
"Honeys, I'm home!" I call out in a very bad Ricky Ricardo impression. I take off my brown leather jacket and throw it on the couch.
As soon as it hits the cushion, two shapes run down the hallway and tackle me. Ouch.
"How was it?"
"What'd you get?"
"Can we get drunk?"
"Why would we get drunk?"
"It's called celebrating Aria."
"No that's called you wanting to get plastered, Dakota."
"No! I just want Kenzie to do good!"
"She did do good! She's smart! Do you not think she's smart?"
"Of course I think she's smart, you slut!"
"Whore!"
Ok if I don't stop them now, they'll start using their fists. "Guys!" I yell over their bickering. They stop and look at me, I motion for them to step back from each other. They both glare at each other but step back slowly, like they're both afraid once they turn around to face me the other will pounce.
Aria and Dakota are best friends but they both have short fuses around each other. I'm basically the referee, I stop them before they do stupid shit.
"177." I say smiling widely. It takes a second before they remember why they were excited in the first place.
When it finally clicks in their brains what I've said, they squeal. Loudly. Like shattering glass, whining dog loudly.
"We drink!" Dakota yells and aria rolls her eyes but nods. "Hell yeah we do!" They drag me off to the bedroom and dress me in a tight black dress. Aria wears a dark green dress and Dakota wears a bright blue dress.
The name of the club we go to is something weird like "Night Owl" or something like that. The drinks are way too expensive and the music is way too loud. But it is so much fun.
Through my drunk haze, a hot guy with bright green eyes and a leather jacket dances with me. And I definitely don't mind.
After hours of dancing and drinking, Aria, Dakota, and I stumble out of the club. All of us have hot guys on our arms. It feels pretty awesome.
At some point in the night, I think I hear my phone ringing but I'm a little too...occupied to answer it. My drunken mind brushes it off as a telemarketer.
I pass out sometime in the morning.