rich youth : m.h

one

I wandered into the bass-heavy party, my best friend by my side, grinning.
Parties in our town were always the same, filled with drunk spoiled teenagers and drugs.
The usual group of stoners sat at the stained brown couch. The drunk girls were dancing with their heels in their hands, or shouting for their friends. There were always couples sitting on armchairs grinding on each other. It was all so predictable.

"We need drinks." Ashley yelled over the music bleeding through the speakers. I nodded as she took my hand and I followed her down the hallway to the kitchen. I pushed through bodies until we reached the kitchen, fluorescent lit and buzzing with chatting and tipsy kids. Ash smiled when she saw who she was looking for.
"Jackson! Yo!" Ash yelled, tugging at the tall boy's shoulder.
He spun around and smiled at us. "How's my favourite girl?" Jackson beamed at Ash, making her roll her eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Where's the booze?" Ash asked, cutting straight to the point.
Jackson smiled, laughed and then pointed to the cooler behind him.

Ash smiled sweetly at Jackson and grabbed a beer for herself, and one for me.
We walked away to go and mingle, but not before Jackson slapped Ash's ass. I knew they had a weird on and off again relationship, but I never asked, because I knew Ashley wasn't sure either.

We danced for a bit, saying hi to girls and guys that we knew. Just like any other Friday night.
There was a group of boys from school standing around and laughing, all dressed in skinny jeans. I knew all of them, all except one.
I locked eyes with the boy from across he room, expecting him to look away after a few seconds, so I kept staring. He'll look away. Most boys do. But he didn't. He smirked at me as I broke eye contact first, feeling my cheeks warming.

"Hey - who's that guy?" I leaned in close to Ashley's ear to ask.
"His name's Matt I think." Her reply was simple.
"And?" I urged her, wanting to know more. I risked another glance at him, meeting his eyes again. I saw him laugh as he watched me look away quickly.
"And he's cute!" Ash smiled at me, tossing her hair over her shoulder and skimming her eyes over him. Uh oh. I knew ash. That hair toss wasn't for nothing. She liked him. I knew that if I didn't go over to him or got him to talk to me, Ash would snap him up. She was a good person - she just really loved boys. Any attractive boy that have her a smidgen of affection or attention, she was obsessed with. She was quietest obsessed, though. She wanted to keep up her 'hot girl heartbreaker' facade.
Jackson seemed to be the only accept ion to this rule - and I think he knew it. She was flippant with him and I think it killed him inside, just a bit.
"Does anyone else know who he is? I've never seen him before. Most be new." I rambled a bit.
Ash side eyed me. "You like him."
I rolled my eyes and faked a harsh laugh. "No. He'll be like all the other rich brats in this town. Bored kids with nothing to do but cocaine." I shrugged. Ash didn't look totally convinced, but she let it go. I thanked her mentally for that.

We were all the same - rich kids living in this gated suburb bullshit, drug-fucked and bored out of our minds. We knew all of the police officers in the town by name. Not because it was a cozy little small town where everyone knew everyone, but because we'd run into them a million times when a party got too loud, or they found one of our smoke spots. And each time we'd all run for our lives, up over hills and hiding in the bushes at the park. We all knew the police did it out of boredom; when they got sick of sitting on their asses doing nothing, they came after a couple of teenagers smoking weed.

I glanced over at the stoners on the couch, the clouds of thick sweet smoke rising in tendrils from their lips.
My ex was a massive smoker. Every night it was 'oh babe come over, we can smoke'. I didn't mind it, but after months of smoking every single night at his place, I started feeling like I was going crazy. Losing it, not feeling myself. I had a feeling it was rotting my brain. (she way out yo)

We, all us kids, looked out for each other, most of the time. I guess that's what comes from being stuck with each other for eighteen years.

Most of our grade went to Pinecrest Hill High and lived in Pinecrest Hills - the giant gated community we'd been trapped in. Some kids loved it - loved being the 'snobby rich kids', the stereotypes. I hated it. I was lucky to have everything that I had, and I appreciated it, but I hated how elitist the whole thing felt. It was all about what you drove and who you knew and how many bedrooms your house had. I hated the superficiality of it all.

Sometimes Pinecrest was nice, I guess. The trees were always perfectly trimmed and the marble gates were always polished. It felt clean, but it also felt artificial. Sometimes I felt like I was in some kind of Truman Show, where all the clouds and flowers and neighbours were fake, acting.
The best thing about Pinecrest though, was us. The kids. The ones we knew so well. It was nice that we were all pretty close and how we could meet up any time. We'd grown up together. It wasn't like we were all one big happy family - there was still a shitload of drama and fights. But at the end of the day, we knew our neighbours from when they were three years old. Knowing people for that long can't be undone.

Since before we were born, we were in Pinecrest. Of course Pinecrest wasn't as prestigious then as it is now - it had barely opened. But our parents all moved in around the same time, so I guess everyone did know everyone. The world felt so small sometimes.

My mum and dad were the third people to buy a house in the entire neighbourhood. Rick and Deb Richmond, Number 11, Acacia Drive.
My parents were pretty cool, let me go out, weren't insanely strict. I had a curfew of midnight, but after I turned eighteen last month they raised it to 2am.

It was 12:57am, and I was sick of the party already. I told Ash I was stepping outside for a minute, not that she noticed much. She was too busy swapping salvia with one of the guys on the school footy team.

I sighed and pushed past all the sweaty bodies cramped into the house. As soon as I was out, I seemed to be able to think clearer. The air was cooler than inside. I could see a few stars out, even with all the streetlights on. I used to sit on my roof with my legs dangling off the edge, staring up at the sky.

I sat down on a small ledge near a garden bed almost completely surrounded my tall shrubbery. Somewhat hidden from the glowing yellow light of the party. If I looked up and just focused on the stars, I could barely hear the throbbing music. I was alone, or at least a little more alone than in there. It was dark where I was, apart from a few piercing pinholes of light gleaming through the holes in the bushes. I sat with my empty beer bottle in my hand, staring at the condensation dripping into the soil beneath me. I lit up a cigarette out of boredom. I wasn't addicted, I just smoked. I was never quite sure why. I inhaled the smoke and blew out a thin stream of wispy grey. The glowing orange tip looked like a tiny firefly, visible in the half-light
I heard the rustle of footsteps before an unfamiliar voice spoke.
"You're too young to be smoking."
An ice cold streak raced through me when I thought it was a cop, but when I turned towards the voice I saw that it was Matt from the party. I smiled at him, trying to be friendly.
"So are you." I shot back with a grin. I had no idea how old he was, but he looked older than me.
"What's your name, stranger?" Matt asked, taking a seat next to me.
"Grace. Yours?" I asked.
"Hm," he took a second to look at me. All I asked was his name, I don't know why he'd need more than half a second to answer. "For you, Matty."
"Why for me?" I asked with a light laugh.
Matty laughed quietly and leaned in, close to my ear, "I only let people I like call me Matty."

(A/N: I'm just gonna say straight up that I hardly ever proofread lmao so there's bound to be typos in this. Sorry.)