What I like about you

33

Immediately, I'm hit with the thick smell of alcohol and sweat. People dancing in the living room, making out in the dark corners, passed out on the couches.

I still don't understand how people think this is fun.

As I walk with Ryder, hand in hand, some girl bumps into me.

Laughing obnoxiously loud, she looks at me.
"Oops! Sorry!" She slurs, staggering.
"Cu-te dress!!"

Ryder pulls me away before I could even thank her for the compliment.

I huff out, look at him as a innocent look covers his face.

"Wanna drink?" He yells over the music.

I shake my head.
"No, thank you."

"Come on!" He insists.

"I'm good." I state.

"Babe, loosen up. We're here to have fun." He pouts at me.

"Getting wasted isn't fun." I laugh, shaking my head.

"Have you ever been drunk?" He looks at me like he already knows the answer to that.

I embarrassingly look down, feeling my cheeks warm up.

"Okay then. Let's get a drink." He pulls me into the kitchen.

Red plastic cups litter the floor and counters, open bags of chips and food scattered about. A few people around holding different bottles of alcohol. Some downing multiple cups at a time.

My stomach flips as we get to the drink table. Many alcohol choices that are completely unknown to me.

"So, what'll it be?" Ryder chirps.

I look up at him, a sheepish smile on my face.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't really know what any of this is."

He just smiles, shaking his head at me.

"You're cute." He laughs.

"I'm serious!"

"Oh, I know." He continues to laugh at me.

I cross my arms, sticking out my bottom lip and pouting at him.

He grabs one of the red cups and a bottle with light liquid in it. Pouring it in the cup, he hands it to me.

"Here, try this."

Taking the cup, I sniff it. A weird unknown smell fills my nose.
I slowly bring the cup to my lips, tipping the contents until I taste it.
A horrible burning sensation shoots through my throat as I swallow the drink.
I instantly start coughing, still feeling the burn as it moves down to my stomach.

"What was that?!" I cough out.

"Vodka." He says dumbly.
"It'll get better the more you drink it."

"Okay, I guess." I grimace at the cup.

Ryder grabs my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. I look up at him to see that he's not even looking at me. His eyes are locked on a certain someone from across the room.

Blake stands in the front door to the house, a stern glare in his eye.
His black shirt clings to his body perfectly, his eyes glowing in the dim lights of the house.

What is he doing here?

I look back up at Ryder, seeing his jaw clenched and brows scrunched together.