Definitely a bad idea. A terrible, fucking awful idea. The loud music is vibrating my skull, giving me a headache and I haven't seen any of my friends in half an hour. Jade only stuck around long enough to get us drinks and then took off with Lucas, but Emma and I'd been talking. Or trying at least. She went to get a refill on her drink and hasn't returned. Not only did she abandon me, but she left me to carry her heavy as fuck purse. My book is in there, I wasn't joking about bringing one, but still. Fucking liars, ditching me straight out the gate.

I'm lingering by the entrance to the hallway, my back against the wall, when a guy lurches past me. He's off-balanced and sloshes a bit of his drink on his shirt when he steadies himself. It takes him a moment to notice me, and I scoot farther away while shooting him a glare. He's a little taller than me and has short brown hair. His dark eyes are a little out of focus as he offers me a lazy smile.

"Well hello there," Drunk guy slurs eloquently. "I haven't seen you around before."

I wish he wasn't seeing me now, but here we are. I can smell the pungent scent of liquor on his breath and he must be working on growing out his thin, whispy moustache. I turn back towards the rest of the room, not wanting to deal with this shit right now. Feeling him move closer, I stare straight ahead pretending like I don't notice him invading my personal space.

"You here alone?" He asks, taking another drink that he doesn't need, "I came with some friends, but I'm not sure where they are." He pauses, and I hope he decides to move on. There's a ton of other people here  he could be bothering right now.
"How old are you?" He persists.

 I start to pick at a lose thread on the bag hanging off my shoulder with one hand, while clinching my cheap beer can with the other. Feeling him watch me is making my skin start to crawl. My pulse is quickening, and the fact that he won't fuck off already is making my stomach lurch.
You would think the awkward silence would deter him, but oh no.
"You're pretty cute for a big girl. I like your hair," he leans in and reaches out like he's going to grab one of my unruly curls. 

I shift my head away, still not looking at him. I'm definitely not interested, and if he tries to touch me again I might lose it. I hate dealing with obnoxious drunk people.
"Heyyy. I'm talking to you." He continues, like a neanderthal, not understanding my attempts at ignoring him. "You know you're being rude. I'm just being friendly. Don't be a bitch." His tone is annoyed.

"You should be glad a guy like me is even talking to a girl like you." He adds with a hiccup. "You know, there's probably some empty rooms upstairs." Oh, swoon. That's the proposition every girl is waiting for.

"Maybe once we are alone you can stop being so frigid. You have to be dying for some attention, right?" His warm breath wafts over me and he's way too close.

 Fucking Christ. 

Someone behind him laughs loudly causing him to turn his head. I decide to desert my post quickly to get away from this fucking idiot. I squeeze my way through the strangers, trying to find somewhere a little quieter, searching for any of my asshole friends as I go. The party isn't too large, not like in all the stupid teen movies, but there are a decent amount of people here. Enough to set me on edge with all the unfamiliar faces.

 It doesn't help I've never been here before, so I don't know my way around. I neatly bypass a couple making out, and a small line of people waiting in front of what I'm assuming is the bathroom.
Finally making it through the hallway and into the chaotic kitchen, I spot Emma playing beer bong. She's laughing loudly as she tries to toss the ball into a cup at the other end of the small table, completely missing and hitting her opponent. Looks like someone got that drink refill after all. Emma only laughs harder at her miss and looks like she's having fun. Since I have apparently been forgotten, I quickly find an exit before she can notice and trap me into watching her play, or worse rope me into participating. 

Almost tripping over someone's foot, I stumble outside onto the back porch. Fairview isn't an extremely large city, but it's a metropolis compared to our town. Justin, who I have still yet to meet, lives towards the outskirts on an almost empty street. The yard is decent sized, with a privacy fence wrapping around the perimeter. It's not very crowded out here due to the cold, but there are a few people dispersed through out the yard smoking and talking. It's dark, only dimly lit by the light filtering through the house windows. I take a gulp of my lukewarm beer and brave my way down the steps, passing the people who linger by the door. The music is still audible, but at least it's now at a tolerable volume. 

My eyes wander looking for a place to sit away from any of the random clusters of people, when I notice a small bench under a drooping tree to the left of the porch. I take a seat and pull a cigarette out of Emma's bag. Finding a lighter is difficult, but I finally locate one at the bottom of her overstuffed purse. Once the cigarette is lit, I take another sip of beer. I fish the small bottle of vodka out of the purse that we had used to pregame on the drive and give it a shake. There's still a little left, so I unscrew the cap and take a large swig. My mouth burns from the taste, so I follow it with another acrid inhale of smoke. I exhale slowly like a dragon and tilt my head back. 

I'm glad to be away from that asshole, and the cool air feels nice on my warm skin. It's things like what just happened that make me want to never come to parties in the first place. I don't always have that exact problem, but still will have people try to talk to me once they realize I'm just standing by myself. Tonight has been worse than normal. Small talk isn't my thing so it's tortuous. Everytime I hang out with anyone, I overanalyze my every move, worried about all the stupid things I say or that I'm not speaking enough. People tend to find my silence unsettling. Since my previous encounter was with a drunken jerk, I at least don't care enough to worry about his opinion.

I pull out my phone to make sure there aren't any texts from mom checking in on me, I told her I was staying the night at Emma's. I'm relieved that I haven't heard from her, but dismayed that it's still too early in the evening. Knowing my friends, we'll be here for a few more hours. I open our group messages and send a sad emoji to make sure they are well aware of my displeasure. I wait a moment to see if any response will come, but shove my phone back into my pocket when I'm ignored. 

I take one last drag off my cigarette before putting it out. I'm debating on going back inside and lurking around Emma in the kitchen, when two people who were back by the fence start making their way to the house. The sweet smell of pot burns my nose and I keep my head down ignoring them as they come closer. I'm tuning out the chatter, when I recognize a certain voice. I look up in surprise at the shadowy figures crossing the lawn.

Seriously? I'm wondering if I can already be that fucked up. Why would she be here? The past week I've been trying to not think of her, and maybe I've officially snapped. Am I hallucinating? It's hard to make them out in the limited light, but that spiky hair is not reassuring and that silky voice is awfully familiar.

A guy talks to Olivia, waving the joint in his hand around wildy as he walks. Her laugh is amused when she snatches it from him and takes a slow hit. The alcohol induced warmth in my stomach spreads throughout my body, but it's no longer a pleasant feeling. Of all the places in the world she could be, it has to be here. 

I'm sitting creepily in the shadows like a gargoyle, watching them, when someone flips on the porch light temporarily blinding me. I jerk and drop my beer into my lap. The can sputters it's disgusting contents down the front of my jeans as I knock it onto the ground. I mumble a curse, but I shouldn't be surprised at this new turn of unfortunate events. This is just my luck. 
Fan-fucking-tastic.