Music begins to vibrate my bones, the atmosphere of the party completely consuming me. The drink in my hand is half-full with alcohol as I search left and right for the friends I showed up here with. I don't see a trace of them, but I can barely see straight through all of the haze, so I decide to walk back to the common room where most of the people are.
I look through the familiar faces but none of them are the ones I'm looking for. I push past sweating, dancing bodies, drunk boys, and girls with skimpy dresses as I try to reach the door I entered through. Once I reach the hallway littered with couples pressed against the walls, I try to retrace my steps since I've been here. I take a sip of my drink to push the disgust of the sights in front of me back down my stomach as I begin to float past them.
I'm nearly at the end, the last couple is just to my right, when I hear, "Claire?"
My body freezes at the voice that seems engraved in my memory. I turn and meet my ex-boyfriend's face, another girl draped on his body with her hands around his neck. Only months ago that would be me in her place, and his hands would be placed on my drunk ass.
"Hey," I answer nervously, crossing my arms defensively.
"How have you been?" He asks with half-compassion, clearly wanting to be distracted by the skank on his arm.
"Fine, Skylar, you?" I say taking another sip, letting the blueberry vodka mix add to the burning jealousy in my stomach.
"Yeah, I've been good," he answers. The girl pulls at his collar, turning his face back to her. Carelessness takes over my fuzzy mind as I roll my eyes and turn my back to them, easily finishing the rest of my drink. I trample my way through the crowd, none of my friends in sight as I walk back to the kitchen. I grab the bottle of alcohol I used before and mix it with some Sprite, focusing on this taste rather than the memory of Skylar's lips on my mouth. I don't know why I miss him. He wasn't a very good boyfriend, he only came to one of my recitals in the four years we were dating, but he would always bring me flowers the next day, and always brought me soup when I was sick. He was my not very good boyfriend. And I really saw a future with him. Too bad he threw it all away.. though he doesn't seem to mind too much right now.
I don't know why I came to this stupid Halloween party anyways. It isn't even a costume party, just an excuse for teenagers to get drunk and do things without getting judged too harshly for it.
"Good evening." Someone says, snapping me out of my reverie and filling up his own cup with something. I'm too distracted by the perfectly styled blonde hair on his head to care
"Hi." I say casually. his chocolate eyes look up into mine as he flips the bottle back upright and places it onto the counter.
Devon Oren. Skylar's best friend, of course. He went to parties sure, but he was definitely known for what happened afterwards then walking into school like nothing ever happened.
"Why are you drinking tonight?" He asks pointing to my cup that's very close to being empty again.
"What do you mean? It's a party," I answer.
"Yes, it's a party, but everyone drinks for reasons other than that," he explains. "And I watched you pour that drink not even two minutes ago and it looks like you're going to need another after your next sip." I groan at his attention to detail and feel my eyes wander to the couple making out in the hallway.
"I really don't think I should be talking to you about this." I blurt out, "We were never really friends anyways."
"Ah, it's Skylar, isn't it?"
YOU ARE READING
Babysitting the Bad Boy's Brother
HumorI never cared about the tattoo on your forearm until your arms were wrapped around me. And maybe it was by my own naivety that I never saw your scars.. or your unfaltering desire to survive. I have a little theory about the kinds of guys to stay a...
