Wishing for the Worst

Chapter 2| Party Pooper

Here's what I knew:

1) I was completely and entirely drunk

2) I was not supposed to be drinking

3) Jungle juice was a demon sent from hell

Claire had some how guilt tripped me into being her partner in crime at tonight's festivities.

She had whined and whined saying that she wanted to bond with me as she pulled and pushed me into clothing choices I would've never picked out by myself.

Because a party was the best place to have a heart felt conversation with a recovering drug addict.

Note the sarcasm.

I knew Claire meant well, she wanted to push me back into the social scene. She wanted the old Mackenzie back. I wanted the old Mackenzie back too, but I knew better. Rehab changed me, something she obviously didn't know. Which is why I agreed to come tonight, I wanted to close the space between Claire and I. But sitting on Reed Bradshaw's fancy, beer stained couch with a heavy head and dry mouth had me wanting to go home.

I leaned back as sweat pooled my back, I was panicking. Alcohol had never been my issue, my addiction stemmed from drug use. However, I was told to stay away from it all entirely. You never know what will trigger a relapse.

Just thinking about the thought of being sent back to rehab made my mouth dryer. Suddenly the room was spinning, my throat was closing in, I couldn't breathe.

I closed my eyes, after a minute a hand touched my shoulder.

"Collins, you look like shit." Reed's deep, annoying voice rang into my ears.

"Not feeling too good." I said back as I opened my eyes again.

Reed rolled his eyes and helped me up before leading me to one of the bathrooms upstairs before I emptied my guts into the toilet.

So there I sat in Claire's very, deep cut sweater and tight black skinny jeans with the man whore that was Reed Bradshaw trying to suppress a laugh as he let go of my auburn brown curls.

"I swear to God if you laugh I will not think twice about kicking you where the sun doesn't shine," I say through gritted teeth.

"Woah there darling," he snickered quietly, "my manhood is the only reason girls come to my parties, let's not be a party pooper shall we" he raised an eyebrow.

He glanced at me briefly, taking in my less than the happy expression and the predicament I was in.

"Never mind, that ship has sailed" he acknowledged, nodding to himself.

"Don't call me darling, you incompetent ahole. I haven't been to one of these in months, I forgot about the jungle juice being spiked," I hiccuped as my anger grew.

"That is what jungle juice is sweetheart, spiked fruit punch basically. And that reminds me, why haven't you been around lately? I mean there've been rumors but what's the real reason?" Reed leaned on the hand not holding my hair back, mocking me.

"Why do you care where I was?"

"Curiosity? Boredom? I don't know, it's just a question" He shrugged.

I rolled my eyes, hiding the fact that I was secretly panicking. I'm not supposed to be drinking, drinking leads to drugs which ends me back at rehab. Which is why I shouldn't even be at this party.