The party was being thrown at someone's actual house. I wasn't sure who owned it, but there were definitely girls there, like John had promised. Some looked older than high school, maybe college age but, then again, I was never good at telling how old girls were, especially when they wore practically no clothes and a ton of makeup.
Marc disappeared as soon as we got inside, which I should have expected. His friend, Taylor, walked over with us. He was the one I kept seeing hanging around Marc all over campus, and the one he was supposed to room with this year. The two of them talked the whole walk over there while I trailed behind, wondering why I had even agreed to come.
I found myself sitting in the corner of the main room of the house. Music blasted from some unknown speakers while everyone danced way too close together. I had a feeling the drinks they all had in their hand had some sort of alcohol in them.
At one point, John appeared in my line of vision. He was whispering into a girl's ear. Blonde hair pulled back into a messy bun, a shirt that showed off way too much cleavage and exposed her entire middrift, and shorts that barely covered her butt cheeks. Definitely the type of girl I expected John to be into, if I had to guess.
She seemed to be hanging onto every word he said, practically hanging off of him. I didn't blame her. The shirt he chose to put on for tonight hung tightly to his body. I didn't want to say I was jealous of that girl, but part of me wished I was the one hanging onto him instead of her.
A plastic cup blocked my sight and I looked up to see a girl standing next to me, offering me the drink.
"Oh, no," I said, shaking my head. "I'm okay."
She sat down next to me. "It's just soda, I promise. Unless you want me to go spike it, because I can do that."
I let out a small laugh, taking the cup. "Thanks." I sniffed the brown liquid. It smelled just like soda to me, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to smell the difference if there was something mixed in.
"I'm Izzy," the girl said.
"Spencer."
She had long red hair that was pulled back into a single braid, which fell over her left shoulder. Her long-sleeved shirt wasn't nearly as revealing as all the other girls and I had a feeling she wasn't here for the same purpose as them, especially because she was over here talking to me.
I wanted to ask her why she came over to me, but I couldn't find the words to. I hadn't expected anyone to talk to me tonight, so I was a bit caught off guard. Thankfully, she gave me an answer without me ever having to ask.
"I hope you don't mind me coming over here," she said before taking a sip of her own drink. "You looked as out of place as I felt. Figured we at least had that in common."
I nodded, not sure what to say. Was it really obvious that I was uncomfortable here? I didn't want to leave without telling Marc I had left, but I hadn't seen him since we got here.
"I'm going to take a wild guess here, but you keep looking over at those two." She nodded over towards John and the girl. "Which one has your attention, the bitch or the asshole?"
I shook my head, holding back a laugh. "He's my roommate. You know him?"
"You're roomming with John Masters?" she asked, clearly shocked. "I thought he was with Marc Price. I should have known that sounded too fake to be true. The rumor-mill is getting out of hand."
"Oh, no. It's true. I'm the new kid that ended up in the room with them."
I sniffed the drink in my hand again. I was thirsty, so I was glad she brought something over, but I still wasn't entirely sure I could trust her.
"I promise it's just soda," Izzy said again.
I took a hesitant sip and, not tasting anything weird about it, took a bigger one. At this point, if I became incompacitated because of something I drank, then it happened. It might make this party better.
"So," Izzy said. "People like you don't really come to these parties. Why are you here?"
I shrugged. "Why not?"
"You clearly came to get wasted and hook up with all the slutty girls," she joked.
I looked back out across the room, my gaze somehow ending up on John again. His hands had found their way up the bottom of her shorts.
"I'm not really sure why I came," I said, tearing my gaze away from John to look at Izzy again.
She scooted slightly closer to me. "Oh, really? You sure it wasn't to meet some pretty girls?"
I laughed lightly but didn't say anything. Izzy had suddenly gotten even closer, closing her eyes as she leaned in to kiss me.
I backed up quickly and she opened her eyes. "Sorry," I said. "I... I..." I took a deep breath, trying to focus. I had never had a girl try to kiss me before.
Her face fell. "You already have a girlfriend, don't you?"
I didn't answer her. Instead, my attention was drawn to Marc, who had just entered the room. He took two steps in and stopped, glaring at John who was only a few feet in front of him. With a shake of his head, he walked to the other side of the room and starting dancing in front of a girl.
John looked up from the girl he was fondling, watching Marc's back. I wished I could have read his expression, but he seemed to never show any of his emotions on his face.
"Ohh, I see," Izzy said, bring my attention back to her. "You have the hots for both your roommates, don't you?"
"What? No." I took another sip of my drink to try to ignore the fact that I was pretty sure I was blushing.
Izzy scoffed. "I may be a little drunk, but I'm not that drunk. When Marc walked in, your jaw practically unhinged itself. I think I even saw a little drool!"
"Okay, fine. Yes, I'm gay. But I don't like my roommates like that. That would just be weird. Besides, they're straight." I gestured vaguely to both of them. The proof of their straightness was right in front of us.
If I kept telling myself if was true, then maybe one day I wouldn't be attracted to them anymore.
"You sure about that?" Izzy asked.
She pointed over at Marc who, despite having a conversation with the girl he had approached, seemed to be focused more on John across the room.
I shook my head. "He's probably just trying to see if he got the prettier girl or something. They hate each other."
I couldn't trust Izzy's judgement, especially because it took her so long to realize I wasn't into girls after she caught me staring at John. I couldn't let myself believe she was right, otherwise I'd just end up with a broken heart at the end of it all. Because, even if she was right, neither one of them would ever notice me the way I'd want them to.
A/N: Edit 3/23/2021
It has come to my attention that a lot of you are upset at either me or Spencer for some of the things said in this chapter. These things are not a direct reflection of my own mindset nor were they supposed to be as negative as some of you are taking them. I can see where the confusion may be, though.
Spencer makes a comment about not being able to tell the girls' ages based on their makeup and lack of clothing. He is a 16 year old gay boy. What does he know about girls? These girls are meant to be shown having a fun time at the first party of the year - for many of them, it's their first crazy party ever. They are out there having fun, so they wanted to dress they way they did. He also thinks that these are the kinds of girls he imagined John going after - the pretty ones who put in the effort to be noticed simply because John is a star on the football team, or so Spencer believes.
Izzy's comment about Spencer only coming to the party to "hook up with all the slutty girls" is meant to be sarcastic. She had already started drinking and she clearly knew Spencer wasn't the type of guy to come to the party simply to find a girl - or anyone - to get with, since he was hanging out in the corner alone. She said it as a joke.
Some people might take offense to her comment, and I'm very sorry if that's the case. But please understand that is Izzy talking, not me. Each of my characters are their own person with their own stories, even minor characters. What they do or say is not a reflection of me as a person or an author.
I hope you can all understand where I'm coming from this. And again, I am very sorry if this chapter offended anyone. That was never my intention.