To The Moon And Back | ON HOLD

05 | Enif

E L L I E

Who the hell parties on a Monday night? That should be a movie or song title, Netflix please take notes. "Are you cold?" Dave asked as he stood beside me on the lawn, peering up at Taylor's house.

I'm still trying to figure out why he's going out of his way to have a conversation with me. Being beside him, standing outside of the place I was emotionally scarred is nerve racking enough.

What will people think when they see us strutting in together? I was the talk of the school for days after last years incident. What happened was minuscule in a sense that it wasn't bad enough to ruin my entire reputation but still, if something even remotely embarrassing happens to you in this town you're on the news headline.

"I'm okay," I responded, trying not to be mean for no reason. Despite our 'history' Dave still isn't a bad person. He's my brothers best friend after all, hating him would be both comical and a romantic movie trope that I'd not like to be associated with. "Come on, guys! I wanna get drunk!" Lizzie squealed loudly as she jumped in between Dave and I.

I thanked her silently, forcing a smile onto my lips as she dragged me up the gravelled stone path leading to Taylor's house. The door was left open, inviting whomever inside to enjoy the last school year party.

Indoors, the air was thick and hot: a combination of pot and hard liquor that enveloped my poor nostrils as we trekked down the massive hallway which seemed to be an illusion due to the amount of students packed into the once wide space.

Music shook the concrete walls braced around us. The glass window panes that stood on all ends of the house vibrated under the low base that emitted from the large black speakers propped onto a makeshift stage in the corner of the massive living room.

The house was packed, giving Lizzie and I little space to wiggle ourselves through the crowd of sweaty bodies that bounced on their feet chaotically and unmatched to the rhythm of the beat. Thankfully we made it to the kitchen in one piece but the sight was non the better.

Stacks of greasy pizza boxes lined up the tiled counter accompanied by bowls of snacks already haven been dug through by hands which have reached unknown places. Bottles upon bottles of alcohol and pop made up a quarter of the counter and beside it were red solo cups waiting to be filled.

Lizzie grabbed one, along with a bottle of vodka and coke. She poured it into the solo cup, "here drink it!" She shouted over the loud music.

"Lizzie, what race am I?"

"What!?"

"What race am I!?"

Her face contorted into confusion but that didn't stop her from downing the cup of alcohol in her hand, not once grimacing in distaste. "You're black!" She responded. I threw my thumbs up into the air and smiled, "good observation!"

If I drank alcohol tonight my head will be on a stick. Sure I've gotten drunk before but promoting underage drinking in my parents household is suicide on its own. If it weren't for Alec, last year I'd have been six feet under.

Furthermore, courtesy of drinking at last years party, I completely embarrassed myself in front of the entire student body and Dave. Whether those two things are reasonable enough as to why I won't drink, my leukaemia returning is reason enough.