Only Girl in a House of Guys

Chapter Seventeen

been about two weeks.. i think. but here ya go. going through a rough time, so im sorry if its not as funny as it could be. i did upload tho, so your welcome.

song for today is Assistant to the Regional Manager by The Devil Wears Prada :D

I walked upstairs, wanting to get away from the pulsing lights and writhing bodies below at the party. I sighed, tugging the blue dress down some. I didn’t know what was worse: showing too much leg or too much chest.

I had been dancing for a little over two hours; my feet were so tired they were about to fall off. I had limited myself to one drink, as I had promised Tray, and was now almost completely sober.

Suddenly, a hand latched onto my arm and pulled me into a bedroom, throwing me to the floor. The door closed, and all I could hear was the panting of my scared breath and the slow breathing of someone else, the room pitch-black.

“Who is it? What do you want? Who the hell are you?” I said, my voice calm, only shaking a little bit.

“Shut up babe, you know we’re gonna both enjoy this,” a slurred male voice replied.

I shot to my feet, swaying slightly. I had to get out. Carefully, without making a sound, I made my way to the door and turned the doorknob. Slowly, I cracked the door, and a sliver of light shot out and illuminated a guy, about 18, with short blonde hair and unfocused blue eyes. He was the huge football player who had been making eyes at me when we came to the party.

“Come out, come out,” he said.

“Hell no,” I said, and stepped out the door, slamming it into his face. God, I hated people like that. He followed me into the hallway, and I started walking faster, dodging behind random couples making out or passing out, down the stairs, and straight into Tray.

“Anna, hey,” he slurred, swaying on his feet.

“Tray, I wanna go. I wanna go now,” I said, trembling.

“But the party’s only just starting,” he managed, and when his knees gave out, I supported him.

“Tray. You’re wasted out of your mind. Let’s get out of here, NOW!”

“What’s shoved up YOUR butt?” he frowned.

“Some creepy guy cornered me in a room, I got out, I have school tomorrow, and now I wanna go HOME!” I shouted, and I saw understanding cross over his fazed eyes. My head throbbed, and I wanted to kill the pounding bass and shouts of drink orders.

Suddenly, the music went out. Thank god. However, instead, I saw new blue and red lights flashing against the windows outside.

“Crap!” I said, freaking out. “C’mon, Tray, the cops are here!”

The people in the party dispersed immediately, and I tried to shoulder past people with Tray leaning against me. I found a back door hidden in the shadows, and, along with a wasted couple, we made it out. Only to be caught by the burly arms of a cop.

“Aww, shiz,” the girl cussed dazedly.

“All right, come on, into the car,” the cop said, and he herded us into his squad car.

“Dammit, Tray!” I whispered, as soon as we were all stuffed into the backseat.

“Ooh, a copper car!” he said, tracing the metal bars with his hand.

“Hands off, dipstick,” I said, smacking his hand away.

The cop got into the front seat, and we all fell silent, except for the guy, who said, “Hey man, I’m 18! I can be drinking!”