Dancing With The Player | ✓

Chapter 6

"It's never to late for pancakes," I replied matter-of-factly. "It's called brinner."

"Brinner?" He choked out, trying to hold back his laugh.

"Jesus, how many times have you hit your head?" I threw my hands up in the air exasperatedly. "It's when you eat breakfast for dinner. Since breakfast and lunch is brunch, breakfast and dinner is brinner. That's simple math."

"I don't think that's math."

"That's not the point!" I shook my head, trying to shake off the conversation. "Just tell me why are you taking me to your house before I walk back home!"

"Calm down, it's just a party at my house."

I let out a deep breath. I really didn't want to have to go back home and face Scott.

"Since we only have two more days of summer, Melanie made me throw one."

I shivered at the mention of her. Melanie Stuart is Christopher's only consistent girlfriend. They are on and off, but when they are off, Christopher makes sure to be with as many girls he can. When he gets tired of it, he gets back together with her and repeats the cycle over and over again. She always made sure to make all of Christopher's conquests lives' miserable as a way of revenge. It never made sense to me to take it out on the girls, and not your own boyfriend, but Melanie was not known for being the sharpest tool in the shed.

"If it's at your house then why are you here?" I wondered. While I may not go to many parties, I was pretty sure that the host being there was a key component. "Shouldn't you be there?"

"My sister has it under control," He responded. "And I'm not going to babysit you all night, so when we get there, just go up to my room and wait. I'll come and drop you back off at your house in a few hours."

"Wait, why can't I go the party!" I protested. There was no way that I was going to spend my first high school party locked in some guys bedroom.

"Have you ever been to one?" He asked.

"Yeah, plenty," I lied. I guess that I was too embarrassed to tell the biggest partier in the entire school that I had never been to one. I try not to care about what people thought about me, but with Christopher, it was different. And I hated it.

"I go to ragers like every weekend." I added on, hoping that saying more would make my story more credible.

He laughed under his breath, before looking at me.

"No one who actually goes to parties calls it a rager."

Crap.

Considering that I spent most of my time dancing and watching movies from two decades ago, I wasn't very well versed on modern day lingo. What did they even call a party these days?

"Just stay in my room."

"You're a bigger pain in the butt than my brother," I mumbled, turning away from him.

"I heard that."

~~~

Fifteen minutes later, we stopped in front of Christopher's house. It was massive, with huge white columns, a gate, and a courtyard with a marble water fountain in the center. There were cars parked in front, and the loud music could even be heard from in our car.

Even with the substantial amount of teen movies that I've watched, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when we walked in. The house was absolutely packed, and the music was so loud that I thought my ear drums were going to burst. But for some reason, I loved it. The energy in the air was so contagious that I didn't want to leave.