Tutoring the Bad Boy

Queen of the Party Trash

A/N I only have two days left of break, including today and not including the weekend. To all of you sitting in class right now, I'm very sorry.

Enjoy <3

<.><.><.><.><.><.><.><.>

*Kaitlyn MacDonald*

By the time Blake leads me inside, it's a little past midnight, and most everyone is gone. There's only a few people I spot that are passed out, which is surprising to me, but their designated drivers are waking them up and walking them out to the cars. Soon, the house is empty, save for me, Blake, Ashton, Mack, Beth, and of course, Drew.

I'm sitting on a couch, at least on part of it that hasn't been puked or spilled on. Drew is in the corner on his phone, Ashton is packing up his DJ table (his music was awesome, by the way), and Blake has started to pick up the trash strewn about the room. Mack is attempting to wake up a drunk and passed out Beth, who I haven't seen since she was grinding all over him before Asher showed up.

And Asher's gone too. Not sure how I feel about that. He was my best friend for a long time, after all.

Mack clears his throat, standing up with Beth in his arms, still asleep. "I think I'm just going to take her home," he says, shifting her slightly so she doesn't fall. "I hope that doesn't mess up anything for you, Kaitlyn?"

"Nope." I shake my head. "I was going to sleep over at her house, but I don't want to deal with her hungover self at the moment, so I think I'll just go home."

"Cool," he says. "See you guys on Wednesday." With that, he's out the door with Beth, leaving ¾ of the Big Four and me behind.

Blake groans from the kitchen. "There is so much trash here," he says, dutifully picking up red solo cups and throwing them in a large trash bag.

"Then you shouldn't have had so much alcohol," I shoot back, stifling a yawn with my hand. "The more drunk people, the bigger the mess will be. Duh."

Blake chooses not to respond, instead sticking his tongue out at me before ducking to pick up more stuff off the floor.

I hear the click of a phone locking, and look up to see Drew sliding his phone in his pocket. "What are you guys planning on doing now?" he asks.

I roll my eyes. "If you were listening, then you would know that I'm just going home."

"I get to clean up this lovely mess," grumbles Blake.

Ashton laughs, zipping up the last of his cases. "Fine, I'll help, but only if you promise to shut up."

Drew nods, but his eyes are still on me. "Where are Jordan and Sam?" he asks, walking over towards me.

"Jordan is with my grandma at Peyton's house," I start, "He got his surgery today. But as for Sam, I have no idea. My grandma should know, though."

"So you'd be home alone?" Ashton calls out, hands full of empty beer cups.

"I guess," I say sadly, looking down at my hands.

"You could stay here," offers Blake, poking his head through the door to the kitchen. "There's plenty of room, and I won't even make you help clean up."

"Do you even have a way to get home?" questions a concerned looking Drew.

"I guess not."

"Then just stay here!" Blake exclaims, holding up an empty chip bag like a trophy. "We can crown you queen of the party trash," he declares, before setting the bag upside down on my head like a hat. "It'll be so much fun, and we can stay up talking about boys and doing our nails, like oh my gosh. Sleepover!"