It was pouring outside, to the point where the other side of the street was blurry from my window. The darkened sky was once in a while illuminated by electric roots making their way across the sky. I love lightning, as scary as it is, it never ceases to amaze me with its beauty. The sound of thunder could be heard a fraction of second after the burst of light, due to the difference between the speed of sound and the speed of light.
It's been this way all night, and with my hair stuck into a messy bun, blankets covering my shoulders and a hot cup of tea in my hands, I stared at the storm going on outside, sitting on a bench right by the window in the corner of my room.
"So, are you coming or not?"
I turned around to look at Scarlett, standing in the middle of my room all dolled up, "Max is waiting for us in the car,"
"Actually, I'm thinking about ditching that party, I feel like watching movies and taking a nice warm bath. I'm sleepy," I replied, turning my gaze back to the window I was leaning on.
"Since when do you skip parties?"
"Since right now," I lazily smiled, sipping on my tea.
"Well, call me if you change your mind," she replied, taking two bottles of beer in between her ring filled fingers and a half-full bottle of vodka, shoving them in her backpack.
"I plan on drinking, so I won't be able to pick you up if you need a ride," she said, putting on lipgloss.
"It's okay, I'll just drive. I really don't feel like going though so that probably won't be a problem,"
"Lara," she said on a dry tone, turning around with mascara in her hand, "This better not be because of Sam,"
"Why would it be because of Sam? I've moved on from him, and I couldn't care less whether he's at this party or not,"
Even I didn't believe the words coming out of my mouth.
Sam is my ex boyfriend, a really nice guy, way too good to be true. He is well educated, has a lot of ambitions, he's funny, he's polite, my mom was practically in love with him, you know? We've dated on and off for about a year and a half before I walked in on him cheating on me, and that's when the fun stopped. Being cheated on is certainly the highlight of this school year to this day. This happened about a week ago, and I would love to be one of those people who can move on to the next really quickly, but I can't.
I don't really get attached, but when I do, it hits pretty hard.
Truth is, it was because of fucking Sam. I didn't want to see him. At all.
"Okay, but if it is, don't miss this opportunity to have fun because of that asshole,"
"I know, go now, have fun," I smiled, waving her goodbye as she made her way down the stairs.
I heard the front door slam and the car engine starting outside. I glanced at the car, seeing its headlights turn on, as Scar's small figure entered the passenger seat, giving one last glance at my bedroom window with a caring smile.
They drove off and I sighed, turning my gaze away from outside.
Truth be told, I really wanted to go to that party. I love parties, they're fun, and I'm a pretty social person. I like to have fun once in a while.
I knew Scar was right, but I felt like if I did go there, I would cry the second I laid my eyes on him. Especially under the influence of alcohol, it would be terrible.
After about an hour or two of laying around in my bed, watching movies on my computer and trying to sleep, I looked at the clock next to my bed, indicating 11:12 in white digits.
I sighed and stared at my ceiling.
My phone buzzed next to me, I picked it up and read Scarlett as the sender of the text message. I furrowed my eyebrows, and opened it.
Nothing was written, it was simply a picture.
I clicked on it and saw that it was a couple, I assume, making out and wondered why on Earth would Scar send me this picture. I didn't really give a damn.
I stared at it a few more seconds and my heart skipped a beat as I noticed the shirt the guy was wearing.
It was a shirt I had gotten Sam for his birthday last year.
I cringed and zoomed on their faces, noticing that it was indeed fucking Sam.
"Oh hell no," I said out loud, standing up from by bed, heading straight to my closet.
I took my phone in my hand and texted Scar back.
"I'm coming. I'm going to give him a fucking piece of my mind."
I grabbed a black shirt and a pair of high waisted shorts, slid on some converse and took my hair out of the messy bun, brushing it.
It was slightly waved from the bun, so I decided I wouldn't do anything else with it. I put on a little bit of makeup and grabbed my backpack, heading downstairs.
I grabbed my car keys on the kitchen counter and hopped in my car the second I got outside, starting to drive to Noah's house. My subconscience kept telling me to turn around and leave, but I figured seeing Sam couldn't be that bad and continued driving despite the weird feeling peeking through the hatred and frustration I was feeling.
I didn't even have a reason to be mad, let's be real, we're not even in a relationship anymore, but I need to let a few things off my chest.
I parked my car a few houses away from the house and from where I was I could hear the bass coming from inside, and I felt a rush of excitment hit me as I saw the lights flashing through his windows.
House parties are really a great thing about high school. One of my favorite things about high school, actually.
I opened the door and saw the massive ton of people, all dancing or talking, red cups in their hand. On the left side of the room was some kind of dancefloor, with black lights making the colors and white things stand out. People had neon makeup on their face and some body parts, making them pretty noticible. On the right side of the room stood a table, where beerpong games were held.
"There she is!" William greeted me, pulling me into an awkward side hug, holding his cup with one hand, "Took you long enough, we were starting to miss you,"
"Yeah, but you know me, I'd never miss a party," I replied, scanning through the crowd to spot either Scar or Sam.
"Come on, we have to get you some makeup and something to drink,"
He was clearly drunk.
"Oh that's-
Before I could say anything, he made me sit on a bench where a girl stood, seeming slightly drunk as well. Next to her was all her makeup tools, colors going from neon pink to blue, all in different shades.
She dipped her paint brush in the neon pink, taking a sip out of her drink at the same time, slightly dancing to the song.
She slid the brush across my face and I furrowed my eyebrows, imagining how this would turn out. She also grabbed my arm and started drawing on it.
In the meantime, I still tried to spot Scar or Sam, but there were too many people.
"Thanks," I said, standing up from the bench I had been sitting on, "Now I need a shot,"
I grabbed a shot on the kitchen counter and drank it as fast as I could, trying to restrain the taste of the vodka from burning my entire mouth.
I grimaced as I swallowed, exhaling right after. I grabbed another one and repeated the steps of my first one.
I decided to stop after three, and maybe get other shots later, because I got drunk pretty quickly usually.
It was hot, I already regretted not wearing a tank top. People were dancing everywhere and the ground underneath our feet was shaking along with the bass. I tried to pass through the sweaty bodies and there he stood, his arm wrapped around a girl's body. There she stood as well, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyebrows furrowed at him.
Scar was confronting Sam, from the looks of it, and as I made my way towards the three of them, her hands flew to her sides and she began making angry motions as a frustrated expression began lighting up her features.
"Hey guys," I said, pulling the fakest smile I could possibly pull, "Excuse me," I grabbed another shot from a plate someone was carrying around and drank it up before smiling once again at Sam, "New chick? I would've bet it would be the one you've cheated on me with, but no, it's a different one!" I said sarcastically laughing, batting my eyelashes at him, then smiling.
"Actually it's not funny at all, it's pretty embarrassing, but anyway, have a nice fucking night," I said, feeling the anger creep in as I held my small glass in my hand, wanting to tear it to shreads.
I turned my heels around before he could say anything and immediately felt the alcohol kick in.
I like to call this stage the pre-drunk stage. It's a stage between being sober and drunk, when everything starts to be funny and you feel everything twice as more. Then comes the drunk stage.
In that stage, you're pretty much screwed, you cry for no valid reason, but laugh your heart out literally the next second. You love everyone way too much and you start sucking at beerpong.
By my 6th shot and my 3rd game of beerpong, I had unfortunately gotten to that stage. Scar and I kicked asses, but we had to stop, because I kept throwing the white plastic ball anywhere but in one of the six cups.
We then danced, and I probably burned more calories than I've had in the day.
By my 9th shot, I felt dizzy and empty. Scar gave me water, but all I felt like doing was sleep. I wanted to fall in a deep, peaceful and long sleep. One you wake up from feeling energetic. It was that moment where the night was getting old and people were starting to call cabs to go home.
The music was still loud, and people were still screaming and clapping around the beerpong table. The noise made me even dizzier, and tears began stinging my eyes. The alcohol made me cry a lot, and right now crying sounded great.
I walked out of the house and sat on the front porch, running a hand through my hair. I sighed and let a few tears roll down my cheeks before wiping them away with my thumbs. I stared up at the sky, illuminated by a thousand of stars and tears kept flowing out, although I was fascinated by the constellations above my head.
Whether it was Sam or the Vodka, I wanted to cry and sleep all at the same time. I was tired and emotionally drained.
"Whatever it is, you're way too fucking drunk,"
I turned my gaze away from the sky and glanced at where the voice was coming from. A tall figure was leaning against a wall, hiding in the shadows, the only visible part being the lit up cigarette in between his fingers.
He lifted it up to put it in between his lips and inhaled, exhaling a few seconds later a cloud of dark grey smoke.
"Want some? It's actually better than alcohol, because it doesn't make you cry but still gets you fucked up," he chuckled, slowly making his way towards me.
I was staring at the street in front of me by now, and I felt him sit next to me.
"No thanks, I don't smoke," I replied, still looking right in front of me.
"Good girl,"
A few seconds passed in complete silence. The only thing I could hear was his inhaling and his exhaling. I felt the tears coming back, so I decided to let my feelings out to this random stranger.
"I hate boys,"
"I hate girls,"
"Why?"
"Why do you hate boys?"
"My ex-boyfriend fucking cheated on me,"
He scoffed slightly,"And him being a fucking asshole makes you hate every guy out there?"
"Yep,"
"You're amusing,"
I smiled to myself, "Well, glad you think so,"
"I'm Nick, Nick Robinson,"
I turned around to really look at him for the first time since he initiated our conversation and saw his perfect features. They were slightly lit up by the moonlight, but you could still see the deep brown his eyes wore.
You could still see him smirk every once in a while.
"I'm Lara, we have spanish together,"
"I know,"
I smiled at him and turned my gaze to the street once again, something catching my attention.
"You have to be fucking kidding me," I said, seeing Sam and his new chick hopping in a cab together. He opened her door just like he used to do for me.
"So that must be the fucking asshole," he replied calmly, taking a puff of his joint or cigarette, whatever it was.
His jawline was more structured than my life at the moment, and God, was he attractive.
"He's looking our way," I whispered, glancing at my feet.
"Well let's give him something to look at,"
I glanced at him with a puzzled expression and before I could say anything back, he had one arm in the back of my neck, slightly pulling my face towards his. My body spoke for itself and my eyes slightly closed by themselves as my lips parted, my hands going up to meet both sides of his face.
Our lips touched in the next few seconds and my whole body felt like bursting into flames. I couldn't get enough of him, although I didn't even know anything about him.
In the moment it felt like pure bliss, and it felt like our lips had been created for each other. They moved perfectly in synch and when he slid his tongue across my bottom lip to ask for entrance, which I allowed, I couldn't control myself. I knew damn well that Sam was watching, but I didn't care. He pulled me closer to him and brought me on top of him, so that I was sitting face to him, my legs on each side of his body. I pulled away and put a strand of hair behind my ear, slightly glancing behind me, noticing that Sam was no longer there.
I was about to get off him, but he smirked and brought me closer, crashing his lips against mine once more. The kiss was deepening by the second at an alarming rate, and the more I kissed him, the more I needed him. He pulled away, his hair messier than when I first saw him, and I chuckled, assuming that I was the cause.
I sat back to where I was sitting a few minutes ago and licked my lips, feeling the urge to feel his again.
"If that didn't make you move on, I don't know what will," he said on a calm and smooth tone, lighting a new cigarette and inhaling its content, exhaling a cloud of smoke in the atmosphere.
Fuck.