More people are in the house partying, crammed inside. The smell of alcohol, tobacco, and marijuana overwhelms my senses. Thick grey smoke blankets every inch of the already overcrowded entryway. I grab hold of Sky's arm, interlocking mine through hers. I refuse to lose her in this crowd of drunk college kids. Half of them I have never even seen before tonight. Music is blasting from every direction. The bass turned up, echoing so loud I can't even make out the words. People are dancing everywhere, including the floor and on random tables. A lot of them are completely off-rhythm. Too drunk to even care.
A group of younger-looking females are bobbing along to the beat on the steps. They're hiding their faces. They think they're slick, holding up red solo cups while laughing behind them. I doubt they're in college. If anything, they suckered some poor dude into believing they were of age. They look like high schoolers if that. I remember being that age. I thought it was so cool sneaking into college parties. Now I realize how much worse those situations could have ended up. I was fourteen, acting like I was a grown woman.
Several strobe lights and a fog machine set up at the bottom of the steps are going crazy. There is a thick layer of fog covering the ground. Our arms still interlocked, Sky leads us through a small mob of people. I follow aimlessly behind her towards a beat-up enormous plaid couch. Upon closer inspection, it's overstuffed with several large rips in the material. Random chunks of foam are desperately trying to stay in place, clinging to the ripped fabric. Certain sections appear worn down, almost sagging to the ground beneath it. More stuffing makes its way out of the seams as we plop down.
I watch as Ben sits on the arm of the sofa, patting his lap. Jessica, understanding his gesture, pounces into his lap. She's like a child eagerly waiting in line for hours to see Santa Claus. His eyes light up, burning with lust as he looks at her. He watches her before rushing to bury his face against her neckline. They are a cute couple, despite their personalities and differences. I never in a million years would have thought that they would hook up out of all people.
Despite my jealous rushed opinion of her the first time I saw her with Hayden, she is gorgeous. I'm jealous of her luscious long, thick blonde hair that curls perfectly up at the ends. Her superb high cheekbones that any model would wish they could have. Which helps to bring out her other features. Such as her ocean-blue almond-shaped eyes and petite, slender nose. Let's not forget to mention her vibrant, outgoing personality. She is the total package.
Whereas Ben is the polar opposite. His personality is quiet and more soft-spoken. He never voices his opinion or is the loudest in the room. I have caught myself more than once, forgetting that he is even in a room. Sometimes even forgetting him until he speaks or makes a random noise. He keeps his dark brown hair short with his bangs ending right above his black-framed glasses. I continue watching them as she taps him on the nose with her fingertip before leaning in to kiss him.
"Oh look, Haydens got a new flavor of the week. I didn't even know he liked redheads." Skylar hisses sarcastically under her breath, but loud enough for us to hear. I fight against my urges. My brain is telling me to look, but my heart is begging me not to. Honestly, I doubt I can handle seeing him with someone else. I know we're not exclusive, but that doesn't matter. It would still hurt. I refuse to look. My eyes dart around. I try to look everywhere except for where Sky is pointing.
After scanning the room anywhere and everywhere, I'm at a loss. I'm running out of things to look at without looking weird. At that moment, my eyes focus on a small cigarette burn, burnt into the wobbly little oak table in front of me. Anything is better than seeing him right now. This burn has to be recent. It still has remnants of fresh ash crusted along the edges.
"I'm surprised it took him this long. I've never seen him go more than a few days without finding a new one," Hope pipes up beside me. Blocking her out, I continue staring down at the table. Now finding several other burns around the edges. My mind begins trying to play the game connect the dots with them. I fail miserably.
Why won't they drop the subject? We all know he's a hoe, so we don't need a constant reminder. Of course, these thoughts are private and not spoken out loud.
"Shut up! You know I don't like it when you talk shit about him. He's my brother and I'm the only person allowed to," Skylar growls, her voice dripping with anger. Her playful eyes narrowed, shooting Hope a death stare.
"Geez, sorry, I was speaking the truth," Hope mumbles. Her heavy eyes drift downward as a sour expression takes over her face.
"I'm going to get me a drink. Do you guys want one?" Skylar offers, standing up, breaking the awkward silence. But with a hint of attitude still lingering in her voice. I hope they don't argue all night. Between this and Hayden, I wish I would have stayed in bed. I'd be watching TV right now or sleeping. Both of which would be better than this.
"I'll take one," I mumble. Finally catching on, she wants an excuse to get away for a minute. To collect her thoughts and have a few minutes of alone time for a second. I know that feeling all too well. It's now or never, I think to myself, attempting to gather up the courage to look over.
My chest hurts as I inhale a sharp breath before looking over, stealing a glance. His face stays hidden in the shadows, but I would know that body and those tattoos anywhere. He looks pretty good for someone who doesn't like to dress up.
He's dressed in a firefighter costume with the jacket wide open, and bare skin underneath. A pair of bright red suspenders helps to hold his oversized pants up. The suspenders are a major turn-on. But the red-head girl grinding her body up against his is not.
She doesn't look familiar. I don't think I have ever seen her around campus. I'm pretty sure I would remember her if I had. She's the textbook definition of trailer park trash. Sporting a red strip of leather, acting as a tight mini skirt accompanied by a black halter top. It's held up by one frail frayed neckpiece. The worn-out string is the only thing keeping her smaller-than-average breast contained. With each thrust she makes against him, I keep waiting for them to fall out the bottom of her top.
She has her bright red hair platted down into two braids. Like how Sky does hers. Only she braided her hair inwards instead of outwards. I can't help but wonder what her costume is. A prostitute or stripper I guess.
"Here Bex" Skylar hollers over the music, handing me a red solo cup. It's filled to the brim with some pink fizzy drink. The bubbles hit my nose as I bend down inhaling the sweet aroma of mangoes. She seems to be a lot more calm and level-headed than before. Her little walk to get drinks must have given her enough time to cool down.
"I know you don't normally smoke, but I figured I'd offer it to you, anyway. You kind of look like you could use it tonight," Hope offers, holding out a lit blunt. I haven't smoked or done any other drug in so long. My self conscious is screaming at me right now. It's almost uncanny how much it sounds exactly like my mother. "You know marijuana is a gateway drug. One hit and the next thing you know you're going to be popping pills again". The sound of her nagging voice echoes in my head. Against my better judgment, I shove that annoying voice deep down in the back of my mind. At least for tonight.
"Sure why not? It's Halloween after all. Everyone pretends to be someone else. I might as well take advantage of it," I laugh, taking the blunt from her. It feels foreign in my hand like it doesn't belong there. Someone had gone a little overboard on it. The end of it was completely drenched in saliva. My stomach goes queasy, but it's not the worst I've ever had. Remembering back to my smoking days, I use the edge of my cape to wipe the end off before bringing it up to my lips. My chest burns as I inhale. The smoke instantly fills my lungs, causing me to exhale a giant cloud of smoke. Out of habit, I inhale the cloud back up through my nostrils, and let it escape back out through my mouth.
"Look at the undercover pro smoker over there," Ben teases. I hit it a couple more times before passing it on to Jessica. She insists on giving Ben a shotgun. You can tell he's not used to smoking. After one hit, he immediately starts choking, causing us to burst out laughing. I don't think he even smokes. Come to think of it, I've never even seen him hit one before. We were having so much fun, that I had temporarily forgotten all about Hayden and his red-headed tramp.
Until he comes and plops down on the other couch across from us. The prostitute follows behind him. She barely gives him time to sit down before jumping into his lap. I try my hardest to ignore them, failing miserably. The tiny little buzz I have going on is slipping away. Being replaced with hatred and anger. I can feel the vomit attempting to surface in my mouth while watching her grind up against him. Her movements are completely offbeat. His hands locked on her thighs. Before I can turn my head fast enough, our eyes lock. My heart sinks. He looks wasted. Despite never seeing him drunk, I would bet everything I have that he is right now. His eyes look squinted. From what I can make out, they are bloodshot and glazed over.
"Hayden, are you fucking serious right now? Are you drunk? You promised us you would stop! How much have you had to drink?" Skylar snaps at him, realizing the same thing I had moments before.
"Lay off alright, dude. I only had a couple of shots. Besides Rhonda here is driving," he mumbles, pointing towards the redhead.
"Umm, yeah excuse me, but my name is Roxie, by the way," the chick corrects him, trying not to let us hear. But being louder than she meant to. This interaction makes me chuckle to myself. His memory of names is horrible. I'm surprised he can even remember mine.
This whole evening so far has been hell. Suddenly feeling like I needed a burst of courage, I lifted my drink, chugging the entire cup. It's sweet but not too sweet. It reminds me of the diet Cherry 7up my nana drinks. Seeing that his eyes remain focused on me, I seductively lick the remaining few drops off of my lips. Not being able to resist the urge to see his reaction, I glance back over at him. Roxie is kissing along his neck, whispering something into his ear. But he's not paying much attention to her. His eyes locked on me.
I doubt I can sit here much longer or I'm going to vomit. Lucky for me, Hope is not much of a drinker tonight. Without drawing attention to myself, I reach down and retrieve her half-drunk cup. Once again, allowing the bubbles from the cup to pop on my nose as I lift it to my lips. I tilt my head back, enjoying the sweet liquid coating my throat. I'm able to finish the rest of hers in one giant gulp.
"Whoa, slow down there, killer," Roxie chuckles, pulling her face away from his neck long enough to glare over at me. Deciding to be the bigger person, I choose to ignore her comment.
"I guess I'm going to see what else there is to get into," I inform the group, scooting toward the edge and jumping up quickly. For a moment, I had forgotten how short my skirt was. Lucky for me, I remembered and could hold it down without giving too much of a peep show.
"Girl, you better go find you some strange bitch. You need it," Skylar laughs, smacking my ass.
"Hmmm, maybe I will. There are some sexy ass dudes here tonight. Who knows, I might have to do that," I whisper loud enough that Hayden can hear. The alcohol seems to be making me braver. I feel powerful. I'm in control of what I do tonight. No one else.
I walk off, not daring to glance back. Even without looking, I can still feel his eyes burning into my backside. I smile to myself, knowing inside I got to him.
Ten minutes later, I'm feeling somewhat aggravated. I've walked this entire party several times with no luck. Not one of these douchebags has even caught my attention. I'm about to give up and retire back to the couch when someone taps me on the shoulder.
"Hey there beautiful, do you remember me?" a male's deep voice startles me from behind. Hesitantly, I turn around to see who the voice belongs to.
"Oh, it's you. Have you come to spill another drink on me?" I tease, realizing exactly who the voice belongs to.
"No, baby girl, that was a complete accident. I want to say sorry about that though," he apologizes while stumbling forward a few inches. The wall stopped his fall.
"But I can't help to notice you're all alone tonight. I can keep you company. You know we can have some fun? I can make up for the last time," he slurs in my ear. He's intoxicated once again.
Since I have locked away my self-consciousness for the night, why not? It isn't like he will remember me tomorrow, anyway. I doubt anyone at this party will remember anything from tonight.
"What's your costume supposed to be, anyway?" I ask seductively, grabbing ahold of his varsity jacket and pulling him closer.
"A professional football player, duh what else" he laughs. Wanting to get his full attention, I use my tongue to pop my fake teeth out. Then watching him I slowly lick across my bottom lip, biting down. His eyes stay solely focused on my lips. I continue biting down. My smile widens as I watch his reactions. I love teasing a man, making him want me.
Without warning, he leans in. His chapped lips touch mine, using his tongue as he forces my mouth open. His breath is horrible. It smells like cigarettes and stale beer. He's a lot rougher and more forceful than I would have guessed. Pinning me against the wall with his body weight.
As soon as his hands find my thighs, he inches them steadily up my dress.
Before I can even react, he's yanked away from me. The alcohol is making me a little dizzy. The room is swaying. I close my eyes for a few seconds, counting to ten. This helps to ground me and clear my vision.
"Hayden, what are you doing? Stop it! Get the fuck off of him," I scream out, finally realizing what's happening. By this time, he already has the guy pinned down on the ground. The sickening thud of his fist repeatedly connecting with the dude's flesh is all I can hear.
"Hayden, stop, you're going to kill him!" I screech at him. This time louder than before, and stepping towards him. Nervously, I grab his bloody fist in mid-swing. He yanks away, turning towards me. His fist raised as though he was going to hit me. I flinch, pulling away.
He stops instantly, looking at me. It takes a second for him to realize what happened. I watch him look around, confused. Everyone is quiet. Only the music is still blaring from the speakers. Thankfully, the people in the other room are oblivious to what's happening, including Sky.
"Hayden, oh my God! Are you okay, babe? Let me check you out" Roxie's annoying voice intensifies as she comes rushing up to him. She forcefully pushes the encircling bystanders aside with her arms. I doubt she would be this concerned if she knew the reason he had done that.
"Yeah, I'm good," he snaps, shaking her arm off of him. "Just get off of me. I need some fresh air," he growls, pushing himself up off of the ground. The crowd backs up, allowing him plenty of space to walk through. I stand there still in shock. He doesn't even acknowledge leaving her knelt on her knees beside his bloodied victim.
I know I should do the right thing and check on the dude who got his face smashed in. But I can't. I have an overwhelming urge to check on Hayden first. Not giving it a second thought, I grab a towel and some ice out of the nearby cooler. Not caring about anything but him. I walk out back, secretly hoping that he hasn't left already.