The fire crackles, licking out towards my boots. The sun set a few hours ago, and the moon is the only source of light outside. The heat of the fire surrounds the group like a blanket. My clothes and hair smell of ash, and the taste of burnt marsh-mellow is still fresh on my tongue- welcome to a typical bonfire party.
I cup my hands around my mouth and blow my breath into them, in attempt to warm them up. I don't know what was worse- having a bonfire party in the middle of October, on a severely cold night, or the fact that I had forgotten my coat, and I am just covered in my thin, AC/DC tee.
A smile is brought to my face, when I feel the familiar hand curl around my waist, giving it a tight squeeze. I turn to face my best friend, Eric, and nuzzle my head in his chest, the scent of his cologne over-powering the smell of smoke and alcohol.
"Having fun?" He asks me, only audible enough for me to hear.
"I don't know. Why don't you ask my chattering teeth if they're having fun." I sardonically answer. He laughs and shakes off his coat, then proceeds to help me put it on. I feel immediate warmth, once the material is wrapped around me, engulfing me in a hug full of heat and Ralph Lauren cologne.
I get on my tip-toes and give Eric a peck on the cheek, as a symbol of my gratitude. He chuckles and pulls me in closer, his brown hair tickling my cheek. If you didn't know us, you'd think we were a couple, the way we act around each other.
The pair adjacent to us is sloppily kissing and groping one another against an available tree. A girl from my Calculus class is wiping her mouth, after throwing up last night's dinner, due to her low alcohol tolerance. Couples around us are either eating each others' faces off, have their hands all over each other, or are puking their guts out. This doesn't surprise me, though. It is a high school party after all. If alcohol, horny boys, and desperate girls aren't apart of the scene, I'd have to call the cops to come liven it up.
Eric leaves my side, when a group of boys stroll in, with loud shouts being heard from miles away. It can only be the boys' lacrosse team.
They all cheer when they see Eric approach them, as he is the team captain, also the most popular. The party was definitely loud before, but with the immature, rowdy lacrosse team present, it can now officially be labeled a party.
I eventually become agitated with constantly waving smoke out of my face, so I retreat inside, where the real party is at.
Music is playing out of surround-sound speakers that can deafen you. A crowd of teenagers are dancing, with the signature red, plastic cups in their palms, filled with either beer or a mixture of vodka and some soft drink inside.
I push past a group of kids sitting on the stairs and find myself in a foreign room. I throw my body on the unmade bed and sigh. I rub my temples in attempt to get rid of my pounding headache, but find no luck. I didn't want to be at this party, but Eric had to drag me here with him. Oh the perks of being a wallflower, but having the most desired boy in the school as your best friend.
It isn't long before two, hormone raging kids find their way to the bedroom I'm occupying. I scurry out of their way, already regretting even leaving the bonfire.
I jog down the stairs and locate the front door, before leaving the party completely. I'm not much of a party person, so I'm not too upset about leaving. I shove my hands in the pockets of Eric's jacket and embark the incredibly long walk back to my house.
~~~~~~~~~~
My phone rings with a call from my mom, right as I make it to the town square. She asks me to pick up some milk and a loaf of bread from the store, since I am already out. Reluctantly, I agree. I still have about an hour until my curfew hits, and I have no where else to be this Friday night.
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Rebel Love (Zayn Malik Fanfiction)
FanfictionTwo strangely alike teenagers encounter each other one, cold night in a deserted alley in Oregon. Zayn. A mysterious, British boy with an unknown past he would die if anyone ever found out about. Lydia. The sarcastic, high-honors student who isn't...