Chapter 8: I Didn't Want To Spoil The Party

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There's major happenings at the party... Y/n falls victim to a snack, Danny reveals some true colors, Y/n and Ryan chat about Jane and John, and John is nowhere to be seen for the night... except at a pretty poorly timed moment. Enjoy, and as always, thank you for reading! <3

Ryan's words hung like smoke in an airless room. They floated around, enveloping my senses.

"Y/n, this is Jane. Jane Asher."

I stared at this supposed Jane, holding Marty's glass in one hand, then set it down on the counter where it resonated with a thunk. I noticed my hands were shaking.

I wanted to touch her face, to see if she was real. She looked real enough. She had the same cute face as I had seen on Google Images when I wanted to see who this girl of Paul's was. Her auburn hair was even redder in real life, and I could see her usual toothy smile replaced by a confused frown and a possessive hold on Ryan's arm, her fingers digging into his skin unconsciously. My god, this was Jane. My gaze travelled to her feet; she was wearing a pair of black booties and the top of her head only came up to Ryan's shoulder. A confused glance passed from her to Ryan, who ignored it, and back to me, and it turned into a suspicious stare.

And then, to my absolute horror, my mouth seemed to move on its own, and I heard myself ask, "Are you real?"

Her stare turned into a look of disdain. "Ryan, is she high or something?"

Was I?

Ryan's glance bounced from me to a plate of brownies on the countertop to me again and he suppressed a grin.

"This isn't bloody funny, douchebag," I heard myself say. "I had no idea. I was just hungry." Only then did I remember putting brownies into my mouth.

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Okay, y/n. Sorry about that. I was going to stop you, but you just stuffed them in your mouth."

I began to panic. I had never smoked before, and now here I was, having consumed a few pot brownies involuntarily. "Ryan, tell me, what's happening to me right now. Am I in any danger?" A laugh escaped the corners of my mouth. Suddenly Jane was hilarious and Ryan was even more funny. I laughed and sank down towards the sink, hitting my head on the ledge.

"Ouch," I giggled, still laughing.

Jane looked confused. "Ryan, let's go," she said, tugging at his arm like a small cat. Ryan shook his head faintly. "She's never been high before. Where are my manners?" he said, smiling slightly. "Y/n, this is Jane. Jane, this is y/n,"

"and I am very much so real," Jane finished.

"Jane fucking Asher," I said, and sank down on the tiled floor. "Ryan... this is so not funny."


I woke up with my head on someone's lap, my eyes still closed. It felt unfamiliar. I mean, I'd only lay on one lap in the past few years, really, and that was John's. I would know it was his, though, as I'd been there for the past few days. John's knees were particularly bony. I could feel them whenever I rolled towards the edge of the couch when we watched TV and my foot was falling asleep. I would look up at him; he would self consciously cover his nose. John was really self conscious about his nose.

I loved his nose. I would reach up and faintly touch the outline of it, and he would splay my hair out until it looked like I was wearing a crown.

"Sun Princess," he'd call me. "Here comes the Sun Princess."

I remembered his smile as I stared up at him. It was a late afternoon; the sunlight was fading through the curtains. A KFC commercial was playing on TV. John was wearing the Sinatra shirt and a pair of shorts. I was in a romper and was barefoot. I remember him remarking that the red polish on my toes matched the romper.

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