Party! party! party!
Man, am I excited! I haven't ever been invited to a highschool party, so to jump straight into a big kid party is exhilarating. Although, it's pretty terrifying.
What to I wear? Frannie said she'd help me. Will there be music? I sure hope so. Does everyone dance? Yay, that's so fun! Will I dance? Of course, I will! Is there going to be alcohol? I hope not. Is it party etiquette to drink it? I don't want to drink it, I won't drink it. Will the people there like me? No, but should I care? Nope.
I'm going to a college party!
"You good, girl?" Frannie asks me. Her eyebrow is quirked up.
"Yep," I tell her. I'm sitting on her bed, which is so comfy, by the way, waiting for her to pick out something for me to wear while patting my legs excitedly.
I don't own many party dresses. I only realized that when Frannie insisted I don't wear a summer dress, and instead a short, tight dress that'll make all the dudes think they have a chance.
When she said that, my intial thought was, 'I hope Levi likes it'. The following thought was, 'Pshh, he won't be there!' My third thought was, 'I shouldn't care'. And my last thought was, 'I do care.'
Frannie must have found something, because I hear a "Perfect!"
She turns to me. "I figure you don't want something too...revealing. So how's this" she holds up a short, silk white dress, "and this." In her other hand, she lifts a cute green sweater.
I stare at how pretty it is. Apparently, I stare for a while because Frannie huffs, "I have no idea what else you'll like because our bloody styles are nearly the exact opposite—"
"No, no, I like it," I assure her. "Thank you."
She leads me to her bathroom so I can change. Her house is really pretty, one I dream of having when my mom is healthy enough for me to move out. It's modern, but also unique with all the large paintings on her walls. Her mom is an artist, and her work is pretty famous.
Frannie's house doesn't feel empty, nor do I feel uncomfortable. I feel welcome, and cozy here. I wish I could feel the same in my own house.
I change quickly. The dress is a bit long, since Frannie is taller than me. But I love it. It dips a little low so it feels like my entire chest is exposed. When I look down, though, I notice that my girlies are covered.
Phew, don't want one fallin' out tonight.
Pulling on the soft sweater, I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is at my elbows, curled slightly. Dad had wavy hair, and I'm glad I do, too. It makes me feel more connected to him, somehow.
Now, I'm not one to toot my own horn but... I'm gonna toot it anyways.
I look good in this dress.
☆☆☆
Frannie pulls up to the house where the party is. I nearly poop myself.
There's so many people here. There's people crowding the lawn, people trying to get through the doors to the house, people dancing on top of tables inside. Geepers, how am I going to be able to survive?
"Ready?" Frannie asks me.
She is wearing a tight black dress with a V neckline. Her heels are a shiny black, reaching just below her knees. She has a lot of tattoos that I haven't noticed. Most of them are flowers with thorns. She's beyond gorgeous.
I told her that about seventeen times in the past hour.
"Don't lose me in there, okay?" I say. With the amount of people, I'm sure I'll end up in a corner alone.
Frannie gets out of the car, then comes around to open the door for me. "I won't lose you," she assures me, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the car. "Remember: stay out of any closed doors, and stay on the main level."
"Got it."
"And no taking drinks from anyone that you didn't see get poured."
"No taking drinks from anyone that I didn't see get poured," I nod.
"If you have a drink, should you lose track of it?"
"Nope."
"Where do you kick a guy if he touches you?"
"The sack of the nuts."
She smiles with approval. "You'll be fine. Let's go!"
Frannie weaves us both through the crowd. It's so loud, I can hardly hear my own thoughts to the point where I am forced to yell that to myself. Like, 'I CAN SEE THAT GIRL'S BUTT CHEEKS!' And, 'I WONDER IF THEY HAVE POPCORN HERE AND IF I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE SOME!'
The music pounds into my ear even louder once we enter the house. The body heat in here is crazy, I'm already sweating. I debate taking off my sweater.
Ahead of me, Frannie sways her hips to the music while we continue making our way through the crowd. I feel like a lost puppy following her. So I copy her movements as best I can, which isn't too difficult, trying to blend in.
I used to do ballet and hip hop lessons before Momma decided she didn't want to waste money on it. It wasn't much of a loss, I didn't want to dance after Dad left, anyways. Him and I used to dance in the kitchen when we made cookies. It hurt too much, so when my mom canceled my lessons when I was twelve, I didn't really care.
But now, with the music vibrating in my body, I'm excited to dance. When my free arm raised to the air, I felt like liquid. I felt free. I didn't worry about who saw me, I just let myself have fun.
Yeah! by Usher starts playing. The crowd cheers, and so does Frannie. Nearly everybody is singing. I don't really know the words, but I pretend to. Thankfully, nobody notices that I'm basically opening and closing my mouth like a fish.
Frannie pushes through anyone who closes off our path. She brings us to a ping pong table that has a bunch of red cups on it, and a bunch of spills. There's a white couch, too, with about four guys. They all have girls on their laps. I cringe.
"This is Athalia," she introduces me. Sternly, she adds, "No one touch."
I give them an awkward wave and a little smile.
A girl currently running her hand down a guys chest gives me an odd look. She looks at my outfit with disapproval then going back to suck faces with the guy she's sitting on.
Oh. I thought I looked good.
Frannie puts a hand on my shoulder reassuringly. She calls out, "Fisher?"
The guy that girl sits on lifts his eyes, auburn locks tilting with his head. "Yeah?"
"When she sucks your dick tonight, please choke her."
My cheeks turn red at the foul words. Dang, I hope I never get on Frannie's bad side.
She turns to me, smiling brightly, proud of herself. "Let's dance."
Frannie pulls me back into the large crowd. I'm giggling, thankful to have her. If it wasn't for her, I'd still be lingering on the fact that one girl doesn't like what I'm wearing. But who cares? I like what I'm wearing!
Timber by Pitbull turns on. The crowd cheers again. This time, I do know the lyrics.
We stop in the center of the crowd. Frannie leads me into a dance until realizing that I actually can dance, thanks to all the lessons as a kid. She let me lead her, then she spins me away to dance on my own.
Surprisingly, I do.
Gosh, this is so fun! I haven't had fun like this in years. Of course, I've had the basic fun. Like watching exciting movies, riding bikes at midnight, and that stuff. But I've never experienced this, and I love it.
Lost in the music, I don't notice that I'm not too close to Frannie anymore. I start to panic, but I see her shimmying her hips with some guy. So I leave her be.
Besides, I'm doing fantastic on my—
I bump into somebody.
Not a dancing somebody, may I add, like I carelessly had prior to this moment. No, this person was just standing behind me, close behind me.
I don't realize my hips are still moving until I feel large hands on them, stopping me. I whirl around.
Levi.
What is he doing here?
Uh, oh. He looks mad.
"Hi!" I shout over the music. He doesn't say anything, and although people are bumping into us left and right, he doesn't move, his eyes never straying from mine. "Wanna dance?"
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
I was gonna ask the same thing, buddy.
I frown at him, crossing my arms until they get bumped back down to my sides by a nearby dancer. "You could've just said no—"
He glares down at me. "Alia."
First of all, my name is Athalia, but I don't correct him. "I'm partying, dude, what're you doing here?"
He only glares harder.
I shrug, continuing to dance while searching for Frannie. Levi stays behind me, and I feel him watching me. That's kind of weird. Why stand in the middle of a dancing crowd and not dance?
After failing to find Frannie, even though she said she wouldn't lose me tonight, I turn back to Levi, hips and arms still moving.
"If you're going to stand here," I begin, "you should probably dance."
Although his eyes spark with amusement as he watches me, he gives me an Absolutely f(bad word)ing not look.
"Suite yourself," I hum.
I hear something between a scoffed and an annoyed scowl before he turns away. I watch him go, his back muscles moving under his black shirt. Golly, that's a muscular man right there.
I know he doesn't want to be my friend, he made it clear. Still, it doesn't feel good to be walked away from.
Soon enough, after one or two more songs—I've lost track—Frannie comes dancing back to me. Her dark red hair is stuck to her sweaty face, her makeup somehow still in tact. Her dress has ridden up to her mid-thigh, but she doesn't seem to care.
"Sorry I left you," she says, breathing heavily. "I'm going to get a drink if you want one."
"No thanks," I tell her. I am going to stay as far away from alcohol as I can. The last thing I want to do is turn out like my mother.
Frannie nods, proud of me for saying no. She walks off again, squeezing her way through the crowd.
I notice I'm alone in a crowd of people I don't know. It's not much different from when I was alone earlier, but I knew Frannie was in the crowd. Now that I know that she's not, I get a bit worried.
I try to dance off the worry, but it only enhances when I feel hands on my hips, and a drunken voice in my ear.
"Dance with me, hot mama," a guy says, his breath fanning over my neck.
I get chills. All I can smell is the beer on his breath.
I push his hands off me. "I'm good."
"Oh, c'mon," he says. "Don't be like that." His hands are on me again, this time higher on my waist. "Move those hips, baby girl."
I nearly gag.
Remember what Frannie told you to do, Athalia. Kick this mother trucker where the sun don't shine!
But with the crowd, how close he is, and the fact that I'm unable to kick backwards high enough, I don't think I can.
I turn to find his face unrecognizable, and kind of cute. But he's touching me without my consent, which makes him not attractive at all.
"I said no," I say sternly, putting my hands on his chest to push him.
He grabs onto my wrist, yanking me to him. He smirks at me, at how he's pinning my wrists to his chest. "Let's take this upstairs, yeah?"
Frannie said not to go upstairs.
Before I can tell him no, someone does it for me.
"Get your hands the fuck away from her," Levi snaps. He's gripping the collar of the guy's shirt faster than I can even blink. "The fuck you think you're doing?"
"Relax, man," the guy says. His eyes are wide. "I just wanted a quick fuck."
Levi slams his fist into the guy's nose.
I gasp.
I'm not thinking when I grab the back of his shirt, trying to pull him away. People are watching us now. The guy's nose is bleeding. Levi's knuckles are bloody. Thankfully, the music doesn't stop.
Levi brings his knee into the guy's groin.
The guy, who I really wish I knew the name of, groans in pain, holding both his groin and nose.
"No means no, fucker," Levi spits at him. Of course, he doesn't actual spit on the guy, that would be gross, but his tone is scary.
He finally allows me to pull him away. I'm bringing him through the crowd that has resumed dancing for point seven seconds before he's the one pulling me away.
He's not happy. At all.
"Levi," I say, loud enough for him to hear me over the music.
He doesn't look at me.
I look down at his grip on my arm. It's loose, like he doesn't want to touch me or he thinks I don't want to be touched, which I'm thankful for. His knuckles are red, and two of them are cracked and bleeding.
"Levi," I say again.
He turns around, glaring of course. His jaw is clenched. "What?"
"Let me clean that up," I offer.
When my mom's done beating me, I have to stitch my own wounds and clean them without any help. I've learned how to stitch, to disinfect, and to bandage those long wraps that are usually used for sprained ankles or wrists. I've even cleaned out my mom's knuckles after she hit me one night.
"No." He continues dragging me through the crowd, basically storming through everyone, to where I can see Frannie chugging out of a red cup, and a guy with dark hair competing against her.
How does he know I know Frannie?
Oh, yeah, duh. He's been coming to the diner for almost a week, obviously he recognizes Frannie as someone I know.
"It's the least I can do," I try again. "If you wouldn't of punched him, even though you really should've used your words because you kind of caused a whole thing that made everyone watch us, I probably would've had to dance with him and I don't think he would've kept it friendly."
I hold my breath after that, waiting for his reply as he stares at me for a moment.
He's about to say no again, I can tell, but I give him those puppy dog eyes that everyone falls for. Not to brag, but I have the world's most convincing puppy dog stare in the entire universe.
Levi sighs. "Fine."
See! Puppy dog eyes are literal magic.
We pass Frannie and the guy's chugging competition, just in time to see Frannie cheering victoriously and the guy stomping on his empty red cup in defeat. I cheer for Frannie, too. In my head, duh.
I was told not to go upstairs no matter what, and to not go to the bathroom unless I really needed to, but here I am, letting Levi bring me up the stairs, into a closed door which is the bathroom.
The music is muffled to a background noise as Levi shuts the door.
Whoever lives here is definitely richer than rich. The bathroom is all black marble and all polished and all pretty.
I thought this was a college party? No college kid has this amount of money, and college kids stay on campus, right?
And how does Levi know his way through this house?
"How old are you?" I ask him confused as to why he's here if this is a college party. Is he in college?
A shocked gasp falls from my mouth when Levi lifts me onto the counter, his hands on my hips. I try my best not to shiver at his touch. He continues to stand between my legs, his thighs touching my knees. My cheeks turn hot.
He must notice my red face because the slightest smirk lifts the corner of his lips up. "Twenty-two," he informs me.
"I'm nineteen," I tell him, even though he didn't ask.
Those gorgeous eyes of his stare into mine. He doesn't look away. His features soften, his eyebrows not pulled into a glare for like the first time in forever.
Is it hot in here? It's hot in here.
It's because I'm here. Hehe.
And because Mr. Pretty's here, too, of course.
He's still taller than me, even with the advantage I have from being on top of a counter. He's simply watching me, his giganotosaurus hands laid lightly on my thighs.
Oh, mama.
I clear my throat. "I...um, I need disinfectant. And a cloth, but we can just use toilet paper. And—"
He grabs all the supplies without needing my guidance, somehow knowing where everything is. It's weird having him grab all the supplies when I'm the one that's going to clean him up.
While wetting a bunch of toilet paper squares folded together with the sink behind me, which doesn't do great things to my back, I tell Levi, "Thank you for getting him off of me."
He nods, silent.
He doesn't talk much, I note. Maybe he has one of those throat conditions so it hurts him to talk. Is that even a thing?
"Do you have one of those throat conditions where it pains you to speak?"
Levi looks at me like I just told him his grandma died by choking on a hotdog. "You don't."
"I know that, silly," I say, grabbing his hand to bring his knuckles closer. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have a voice. I talk a lot because I love being social, even though a lot of people hate it. "I'm asking if you do."
He shakes his head, hissing through his teeth when I put disinfectant on his knuckles.
When I get hurt, I try to distract myself by talking to myself or focusing on random things. I decide to make conversation, despite the fact that I won't get a lot of verbal answers.
"Are you in college?"
He waits a second before answering. "No."
"Then why are you here?" I ask. He looks at me unhappily. "I don't mean it like that."
"It's my fucking house," he states.
Okay. "You could've answered that without cursing, but I'm gonna let it slide since you've got a boo boo."
He rolls his eyes. His hand is warm as I wipe off the extra disinfectant around the cuts. His callouses are rough against the pads of my fingers.
I grow confused. "Frannie said that this is a college party."
"It's not."
I find it weird that he doesn't ask who, exactly, Frannie is, but I ignore that. "What is it, then?"
"A fucking party that my dumbass men threw."
"Your men?" I ask, wrapping his hand and knuckles with a thin white bandage.
He specifies while looking at our connected hands, "My friends."
I pretend like it's not a bit odd that he calls his friends 'his men'. I want to be a part of his men, then.
I tap his hand to let him know I'm done, but he doesn't remove it from mine for a while.
Even though I know I'm going to regret asking, I ask anyway, "Why don't you want to be my friend?"
Levi lets out a long breath. He rests his hand on my bare thigh, since some of the dress was pushed up when he set me on the counter. Butterflies erupt in my stomach at his touch.
"I can't," he states.
That wasn't necessarily an answer, but I don't push, nor do I let my frown show. "Okay."
There's a beat of silence before Levi continues, his thick finger softly drawing small circles on my leg.
"It's not enough."
My eyebrows push together. "What do you mean?"
I'm not enough?
He shakes his head, presumably dropping the topic. But then, he leans forward, his pretty face dangerously close to mine. "Do just friends do this?"
His lips are on mine not a second later.
☆Authors note☆
Whoop! Whoop! Hope you liked this chapter:)
This book is going to be a roller coaster, so fair warning that Levi can be a jackass to her still, don't get super high expectations for him yet. BUT he will get better further into the book
Girl, do it for you
Or boy, of course
If you enjoy, please vote and follow.
Thank you for reading<3
Word count: 3449