The silence drags as voices and laughter stop for a moment. I stare down at my soaked lap, hoping a huge pit will open up and swallow me whole. The porch door swings open as two drunken girls stumble out, presumably the cause of my current dilemma. I guess it's kind of my fault for being a creeper and so distracted, but I would rather share the blame.

"Oh noooo! You alright over there?" A male voice calls to me, and I don't want to look up. The conversation around the yard finally resumes as footsteps approach.

"Oh dude, that sucks. You need a towel?" Shadows fall over me, and I finally force my head upward even though I know who is standing there.

Now that there is more light, I can see the guy who was walking with Olivia has shaggy blue hair. He looks like he might be older than us, but not by much. I concentrate on him instead of looking at her, knowing she will now recognize me as the weirdo she goes to school with. Son of a bitch.

"I can grab you one, it might help at least a little. You're still gonna smell like a brewery though," he offers with a smile. There is a large, gold ring in his nose and his blue eyes are bloodshot. 

"I'm Justin by the way. You are?" He asks as he snatches the joint from Olivia's fingers and takes another hit.

Oh finally, I get to meet the infamous Justin. This is just great. I swallow the lump in my throat, which is difficult since my mouth has gone dry. Too bad I had to spill my drink all over myself. Fucking moron.

"Uhhh-," I start before Olivia's snicker interrupts my attempt at an introduction. Ignoring the way my body protests, I finally meet her gaze. Her large eyes are more red than his, and they crinkle with amusement as she smirks. Wearing more makeup than she normally does at school, dark eyeshadow and black lipstick, causes me to stare at her face. Her blue eyes are bright, and she looks pretty even with that mocking smile. Justin elbows her in the ribs, jarring us from our stare down.

"Jesus, Ollie. Don't be a dick." His tone is chastising as he let's out a puff of smoke. Turning back to me, he holds out the joint as if in peace offering. "Ignore this one," he nods at her, "She isn't a complete ass, I swear."

"Hey guys!" A voice interrupts as a small group walks up. "We finally made it!" The leader continues as he slaps Justin on the back.

"Hey, it's about damn time! What took you so fucking long?" They turn to greet the new arrivals, and
with them distracted, it's my chance to bolt. Standing abruptly, I sling Emma's slightly damp bag over my shoulder. The lukewarm beer is running down my legs as I step around them on my way inside, making me internally cringe.

"Shit, what happened to you?" The blonde haired guy in the group asks, turning all their attention back on me. Oh, fuck off.

I wish invisibility was my super power as my steps quicken. Trying to walk with dignity is hard when your shoes are squishing with every single step. My face reddens with each squeak. I'm sure it looks like I pissed myself as I waddle my way up the porch steps and through the door.

The kitchen is still mad, and I keep my eyes focused on the floor as I hurry to the bathroom. There is still a fucking line, so my legs keep moving in flight mode until I find the stairs and make my way up to the second floor. Eyes are on me, but the pounding in my ears coupled with the thumping music drowns out any voices. 

By the time I make it upstairs, I'm gulping air and feeling slightly light headed. There aren't as many people up here, and most of them are making out. I get a few odd looks as I start turning door handles, just needing somewhere to be alone for a second. Finally finding an unlocked door, I rip it open to reveal a small room that must be used for storage. Besides for a twin bed, it's full of stacked boxes. It's good enough for me, so I slam the door and concentrate on my every inhale and exhale. Don't freak out. This is fine. Everything is totally fine. Stumbling around, I make it to the window and brace my hands against the frame.

These stupid reassurances I'm telling myself aren't doing shit. Fuck fuck fuck. I debate on opening the tiny window, needing some air. Why is it so hot in here? I twist my  fingers into my hair, giving a slight yank as I try to ground myself. The hysteria is bubbling inside me like a volcano about to erupt. Why can't I be normal? Why does shit like this always happen to me? Embarrassment makes my stomach coil, and I regret those vodka shots. I shove my hand into my pocket and rip out my crappy phone while dropping the bag with a thud. I'm starting to shake, and my heartbeat keeps hammering away. Barely holding on by my fingernails, the tears are fast approaching as I try to text Emma.

Before I can send out a cry for help, a hand touches my shoulder and I startle. Almost toppling over one of the leaning towers, I drop my phone as I swing my arms wildly. I turn around to find Olivia standing there, her face is serious, the amusement that had been there before gone. She raises her eyebrows at me before retrieving my phone.

"Here," she says quietly as she thrusts it and a towel into my hands. "There is a bathroom in the room at the end of the hall. Justin said you can use it." She pauses, but I can't speak. Why is she so close? I hadn't even heard her come in, is she some kind of stealthy assasin?
"There shouldn't be anyone in there, it's his parent's room. It's on the right." Olivia finishes, but it's like my brain has a short circuit.

I stand there, clutching the towel and breathing like I just ran a marathon. Time stretches on while I just blink and breathe. My heart had stopped momentarily when she scared the crap out of me, but now it picks up double time. Her bright eyes study me, and I finally force myself to nod. Say something, please. For the love of all that is holy, speak. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.

She turns to leave, done with my bullshit, when my voice decides to make a late appearance.
"Thank you," I croak, barely over a whisper. Olivia stills for a second with her hand on the doorknob, but doesn't look back.
"Anytime, Beck," she mumbles before leaving, shutting the door behind her. I can hear the music from downstairs, the drums matching the rhythm of my foolish heart.