It was loud, but it was the kind of loud Chris truly couldn't get enough of. He threw back what might have been his fourth or fifth shot of alcohol, laughing to himself. He felt ridiculously guilty and a little warm. It could have been the blush across his cheeks or the temperature in the house elevated by the number of grinding bodies.

"Not fucking bad," Trevor said beside him, watching him with a level of interest that really only came about when he was doing something he had no business doing. 

Chris barely registered the words, his attention drawn to the septum piercing he'd gotten the week before. It looked nice and Chris couldn't help but wonder what he would look like with a similar piercing. Then, he remembered that it didn't really matter considering his parents would never allow such a thing in a million years. It'd taken long enough to convince them to get the average ear piercing.

"Or maybe not," Trevor said, taking him by the chin to get a better look into his eyes. "You hearing me?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded, pushing his hand away. "I'm fine. Am I beating you?"

"Definitely not." Trevor smirked and brought his own drink to his lips. He drained it in no more than a few seconds flat. "I'll always be able to hold my drink better than you. Shit's in my genes."

"Alcohol tolerance," Chris said, "or alcoholism?"

Trevor frowned a little and, quicker than Chris could react, smacked Chris's drink into his face. Chris flinched, shocked into a rare speechlessness but also grateful none had gotten into his eyes. A small win and loss all at once—  the story of his life.

"Maybe you shouldn't be drinking," Trevor said, not even a little apologetic which was, in all honesty, fair enough. He wiped it away with his shirt. "Your mouth is already bad enough. And we have school tomorrow in case you forgot."

"So?"

"You want to go to school hungover, dumbass?"

"If I have a hangover, I just won't go," Chris said with a shrug.

"You really think your mom would allow that, let alone your dad?"

"They leave for work before I leave for school—  they won't even know."

Trevor hummed. "If you don't end up going to school, call me. I'll come over."

Chris nodded, scanning the room for his next irresponsible mistake. He'd already checked off a list of things he'd wanted to do: drink, dance with a girl or two, make out with another girl or two, play some games, start some drama... The list went on, but the most important thing on the list had yet to happen.

He wanted to get laid however that ended up playing out.

"Cindy's been eyeing you all night," Trevor murmured into his ear as if he could read his mind. Sometimes, Chris really thought he could. It made sense; they'd been friends long enough mind reading should have been second nature. Trevor pointed over to a couch where the girl in question sat squished up next to some of her friends. "Why don't you try her out?"

Chris cocked an eyebrow. "Why are you encouraging that?"

Trevor mimicked his expression right back at him. "Why not?"

"She's your ex."

"Exactly," Trevor patted him on the back hard enough to make him wince a little. "Old news. We broke up for a reason."

Chris couldn't help but still be skeptical. "Are you sure you aren't just trying to stir up trouble?"

"That's your thing. Not mine."

"It's my thing that I got from you."

"Blaming other people for your actions?" Trevor's tone was sarcastic and his bright eyes held little traces of mirth. "That's low even for you."

"Whatever," Chris said with a roll of his eyes, making his way over to Cindy. "I'm gonna fuck her just to piss you off."

"Good luck with that." Trevor laughed, following close behind him. "Sincerely."

The second Chris was close enough for Cindy to notice him through a crowd of barely upright teenagers, her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. She was a pretty girl— tan-skinned with eyes the color of emeralds and hair the shade of wheat under the summer sun. It was hard to see under the dim lights, but tiny freckles were scattered against her cheeks. He only knew so because of the few times Trevor had brought her around when they were dating.

Really, it shouldn't have surprised him that Trevor didn't mind him going after her. Besides the fact that he'd never been one to take any of his relationships too seriously and the fact that he didn't seem to have a jealous bone in his body, he hadn't dated Cindy for long. If Chris was remembering correctly, they'd only dated for around two weeks. Maybe three.

Neither of them had ever said it, but Chris suspected it'd been more of a temporary fling. Chris knew one of those when he saw them. He knew them well.

Intimately, some might say.

"Hey, Chris!" she said, voice pitched and sweet. It deepened a little and the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes lessened when she briefly acknowledged the man beside him. "Trevor."

"Nice to see you," Trevor said and Chris could tell by the little nod he gave that he didn't mean it. He nodded a lot when he was lying as if he was trying to convince himself of his own deceptions. "I brought your crush to you wrapped up in a little bow. You should thank me."

Cindy's eyes widened and her face darkened to the shade of a tomato. Chris covered his mouth to hide the smile he couldn't manage to keep down.

"I don't have a crush on him!" she yelled indignantly. "I never told you that!"

"You didn't have to. I can tell."

"You're probably projecting your own down-low fantasies!" she said, pointing an accusing finger at Trevor. "Ever think of that?"

Trevor didn't immediately have a response for that, but his smirk practically said everything. Chris wondered how much Cindy really knew Trevor—  whether or not she understood just how difficult it was to truly get beneath his skin.

Either way, she was surely about to learn that little detail about him in the next hour.