Grey Street // H.S.

Chapter 1: "Do you want to know how I imagine my life?"

I hate this house.

I hate the stale smell of beer that permeates the smoke filled hallways. I hate the crowded rooms, filled with people and clearly pushing the limits of capacity the tiny rooms can hold. And I absolutely hate the constant pounding of techno music that blares from the speakers, vibrating the run down walls to the point where I think everything might collapse.

I hate this house.

Yet, I find myself here almost every Friday night, this one being no exception.

Even with the thumping bass of some terribly repetitive song, I manage to hear someone yell my name over the noise, the sound of "Elle," hardly noticeable in the distance. It's loud enough to catch my attention though and my eyes move in the direction of my called name, trying to lessen my scowl as I turn toward the voice.

It doesn't take much to find the person yelling my name because out of everyone in here I know of only one person who would have the balls to do it, so I begin to push my way through the crowds of people, being far more aggressive than what is probably acceptable. I don't really care much though, in fact I find a little satisfaction in the pushing. As I move my way through the hordes of people I run my fingers through my hair, trying not to get them stuck in the tangles the waves result in. When I reach him I stop and blink, looking at him as he smiles back at me.

"Hey, Matt," I sigh out, annoyed. Not necessarily annoyed to see him, I like Matt, just annoyed like always. "What's up?"

"Not much," he responds quickly with the smile still on his face followed by a pause as he presses his lips against the beer bottle in his hand, taking a long gulp. "I saw you walk in... did you just get off work?"

"Yeah," I nod answering his question as he hands me a beer that was sitting unopened on the table behind him.

I work at Annie's Diner, the cutest darn diner in all of Brookings, South Dakota. When I say cutest, I'm being sarcastic, but the truth is it's actually very cute. I'm just not too keen on admitting to it though.

"Awesome," Matt says with a huge smile on his face. With his tanned skin and shaggy blonde hair you'd think he belonged on the cover of a Californian surfing magazine, but no instead he's in this shithole of a town.

I nod my head back at him, not wanting to say anything else. Matt is nice. He's one of the few people I can actually stand to be around, but I don't feel like forcing any of this sweet small talk crap. I already had my fair share of that at work today and I can only go so long before it feels like I might explode.

Instead of realizing this he just continues to stand with me, smiling widely as I turn my head to the side with my arms crossed in front of my chest, doing a quick scan around the room. It's stupidly hot in here. Not that it surprises me considering there's fifty-some teenagers and the occasional twenty-year old crammed in the tiny main room with no air condition when it's still hot outside with the South Dakota summer. I'm even wearing a minimal amount of clothes and still I can feel myself sweating, which is stupid because I'm not even moving.

"Elle," I hear Matt's voice again, interrupting my spaced off thoughts. "This is my cousin," he points to a boy I didn't notice before, not realizing he was standing next to Matt this whole time.

His hair is on the longer side just like Matt's but it's darker and much curlier. I can tell he's taller than Matt, even with his lean on the table behind him. I take notice of his clear disinterest in this party happening around us and for a brief second feel this urge to give him a look that says "I know, man. This sucks." I keep that look to myself though because I'm not a fan of pointless bonding moments with strangers.