𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕧𝕖

Music thundered against the walls of the house. You could feel it's vibrations even from where you stood on the front lawn. Stu had obviously lied about the size of the party and the so-called 'humble get-together' was starting to look like a classic rager.

When you first stepped out of the Jeep with Tatum following close behind you, Michael Jackson's Thriller was playing over the boombox that someone had planted in the first-story window. Strands of toilet paper hung from the tree branches, swaying back and forth in the wind like little ghosts.

There were costumed teens littering the front lawn in small groups. Most were just chattering but you noticed a haze of grey smoke floating around a few kids in the back. The stoners had officially made their presence known.

You were walking up the front pathway, followed by Tatum and her brother, with shopping bags of food hanging from your arms. Dewey had been kind enough to give you a ride to the party which you found ironic because you really weren't supposed to be there anyway.

The group of teens lingering near the porch all froze upon seeing him. They mumbled amongst themselves before tossing their half-smoked blunts onto the grass, preferring to slouch away behind the house where they could smoke in peace. Tatum groaned and turned around to face her uniformed brother. "Do you really have to be here?" She asked, adjusting the brown paper bags in her arms. "You're making us look like the fun police."

Dewey looked back and forth between you with a heavy sigh. "Sorry, Tate. Orders from the Sheriff. Looks like I'm (Y/N)'s personal bodyguard for tonight."

Tatum groaned and stomped her feet like a child having a tantrum. She looked good in her costume, even though you've never seen the movie it was from. She turned to you with a fake pout as if begging you to somehow persuade him to go home.

Begrudgingly, you rolled your eyes and looked up at him. "You can still see who comes in and out of the house from the patrol car, can't you?" You topped off your question with the most dramatic puppy-eyes you could manage. If you hadn't been carrying snacks, your hands would have been clasped together pleadingly.

He looked up at the house, studying the exterior with his hands on his hips, thumb tapping against the loaded pistol on his belt. "Fine. But you scream if you need me, alright?"

With a satisfied smile, you winked playfully before joining Tatum who had hopped up onto the porch. "Until my lungs give out," you promised with the full intention of keeping it.

The interior was even more crowded than the yard. You had to strain your eyes to keep tabs on Tatum as you followed her into the kitchen at the back of the house. With a melodramatic huff, she dropped the bags down onto the center island and stretched. "Caterer's here!" She announced.

A few people wandered into the kitchen and began pulling items out of the snack cornucopia. The party hadn't started but half an hour prior to your arrival but it looked like the energy was just reaching its climax.

The sound of something knocking over reached your ears and you turned around to see four guys huddled over the kitchen sink. One of them was pouring liquid out of a flask and into a funnel that had been shoved into some poor guy's mouth. They were all encouraging him to down the whole thing. Only when one of the boys stepped back did you see that it was actually the party's host. 

Tatum, who was still unpacking bags next to you, looked over and scoffed before turning out of the room. "I'm out," it sounded like she said, but you couldn't be sure over the hum of the music. "Come find me when you wanna head out."

You tried to wave after her but quickly lost sight of the bright yellow outfit amongst the sea of people. When you turned back around to the sink, Stu was still underneath the funnel, guzzling the cheap beer like it were water. You instantly started laughing at the sight which, bringing the boy's attention over to you.