Chapter 19: Nineteen

"Ready, bitches!"

"Hold up, let's take a pic. We need this on record." Isabelle rushed to the bedroom, dragging me out by the arm.

"I'm going to fall on my face." I warned, trying my best to stay grounded in those damned heels. Only two inches, they said. It's easy, they said. Fucking liars. Between pulling down my dress to make sure I didn't flash my panties to keeping my still scraped ankles from giving out, I was an absolute mess.

"Come on, hot mama." Danny squealed excitedly, slapping my ass.

"God, Danny, stop that." I groaned, allowing Isabelle to line me up front and center between them for a selfie. I couldn't even recognize myself through the thick makeup. Highlights, smoky eyes, and deep red lipstick. I looked like… a woman. What witchcraft was this?

Click.

"Oo, I like it. Your 'don't give a fuck' face is sexy, Jen!"

"It wasn't for the photo and you know it." I giggled, grabbing my clutch from the counter. Cellphone. Check. Chapstick. Check. ID. Check.

"Alright. Let's get this over with."

.

.

.

We had to park a mile away and walk the rest. If that wasn't bad enough, I could hear the music at the half mile mark. It was barely getting dark and the front lawn was already littered with glittery mostly naked women and red solo cups.

"Damn, Jen. Is that your friend?" Isabelle whispered into my ear. June was leaning casually against our meeting spot, wearing dark jeans and a white rolled and collared linen shirt. The poster boy for Hollister, I swear it.

He was laughing with another guy, dressed just as preppy, as they both sipped on their drinks.

"I don't think he's twenty one." I mused aloud, earning a pithy slap from Danny.

"Dont start with that. It's a party, sweetheart. That's what college is for!" Isabelle giggled along with her, to some untold joke.

As we neared, I felt a gentle shove towards him, and heard the girls' quick retreat. No! We were supposed to do this together!

I turned to glare at them, but they were already booking it inside, waving gleefully back at me. I hated them.

"Jen?" Shit.

I turned, somehow managing a smile through my annoyance and embarrassment.

"Hot damn." He muttered, clearly not for my ears as he scanned me head to toe. I tugged at the bottom hem of my dress, squirming beneath his heavy gaze as my heels shifted in the grass.

"Hey." I squeaked out. He shook his head to clear it, stepping towards me with a smile and arms extended for a hug. A hug? I didn't realize we were there yet.

But not knowing what else to do with myself, I accepted. His hands landed just above the curve of my ass, forcing my arms over his shoulders and effectively pressing my chest against his. Oh God, he even smelled like a Hollister store. I broke away quickly, readjusting my top to cover my bra again, but judging by where his eyes landed, he saw the black lace peeking through. How fucking embarrassing.

"This is, um, loud." I half-shouted above the barely distinguishable music. But he laughed, his bright teeth and eyes as charming as ever. Okay, maybe I could see why Joel hated him.

"The party's inside." He answered back, taking my hand to lead me inside. Maybe it was just my paranoia, but I heard whispers around us. People asking who I was and why I was with June. Was he popular or something? Great, the last thing I needed was to draw attention.

"Is that alcohol?" I full on shouted this time. Hot Chelle Rae was blaring through the speakers, singing about liking it like that. Whatever the hell that meant. He nodded.

"Want some?" He offered, and to my own surprise, I nodded in return. I needed it for this. My anxiety was through the fucking roof, and people kept touching me. Not on purpose, of course. There were just way too many bodies in one place, sandwiched like sardines, breaking every damn fire code in the state.

He led me past a group playing some sort of drinking game, then through a room filled with a smoke. A set of ten were sitting on sofas, passing around some sort of bong tube.

"What are they smoking?" I asked. June laughed, clearly amused by my innocence.

"Hookah." He replied, before turning back and adding, "Probably." Fuck me. This was somehow worse than I imagined it would be, and I had a knack for imagining shitty situations.

Finally, we entered what appeared to be a kitchen. It was slightly less crowded, and slightly more lit. Coolers sat on the counters along with more plastic cups. A shirtless man was knelt over one of the coolers, dumping what looked like straight vodka into the cylinder. I purposely moved to the one he wasn't at, pouring myself a drink, thanking the heavens I could finally let go of June. Not that he disgusted me. No, far from it. He made me feel guilty. Everytime he touched me, I pictured Joel, and I felt like shit.

"Bottoms up." I said with a sigh, toasting June's mostly empty cup with mine.

I tilted my head back, my nose scrunching as the burning fluid soaked my throat. This was no Long Island. It barely had a flavor at all! It tasted like the rubbing alcohol Joel used on my leg smelled. June watched me closely as I downed the first eight ounces. When I slammed it back down on the counter, his brows shot up and he licked his lips.

"Damn, babe. Trying to forget something?"

"What do you mean?" I replied innocently, pouring my second batch.

"That shit's like eighty percent Everclear." What's that? I cocked my head, and he shook his. The song was saying something about a 'punkbitch' and I was already getting a headache. Why was the music so damn loud?

"Take me away." I yelled, watching his eyes darken, a sinister smile taking over. Why was it so exciting?

Ten minutes later, and we were in a room full of strangers. There weren't enough seats, so June sat me on his lap. I wanted to protest, but people kept speaking to me. Attempting to, anyway. I couldn't understand half of what they said. But they were smiling, so I smiled back.

My fingers gripped tightly onto my clutch and cup. I was halfway through when I started to feel the warmth seeping into my bloodstream. There was a couple in front of us that started making out, hot and steamy, and for some reason, it was really funny to me. A giddy giggle left my lips before I could stop it, and I felt the cup disappear from my hands.

"No, that's my friend!" I whined, watching it float away until I eventually saw June's arm connected to it. With my face inches from his, I huffed in complaint, crossing my arms like a child. "Why?"

"You're going to get sick." He whispered loudly against my ear, his lips brushing it lightly. I blushed. I had to move. The hormones filling the room were too intense. I attempted to stand gracefully, but I knew I looked like a drunken newborn gazelle. A whistle sounded from the group, and I felt June's hands on my upper thighs. Amazingly, no warning bells went off. I just glanced down to see him lowering my dress back into place.

"Fuck off." He swore at his friends. But I didn't want him frowning. I wanted his smile again.

"Come dance with me." I tugged at his arm, and he stood to follow me. Well, support me. I could still walk. It was just a little shaky.

I had no idea where I was going, but we somehow ended up back in a dark room where the music was drowning me and the only brightness came from colored spotlights flickering across the room. It was glorious. I had never felt more carefree in my life. Without a second thought, I turned around, snaking my arms around June's neck as my hips swayed to the sounds.

Sweat, heat, and overwhelming pandemonium cacooned me, and I was content. Wasted, but satisfied. Why did I ever avoid this?

June pulled me in flush, his body pressed closely against mine, making my blood hum. He really was an attractive man, especially from here. And his skin was so soft, his fingers tracing up my arms along to the music.

Suddenly, June pulled away, retrieving his phone from his pocket. I didn't even hear it go off.

"Jen-"

"Yea?"

"I have to take a call, so I'm going to take you back to the smoking room with Jessica. Okay?" Jessica. I think that was the nice girl in a pink dress from the other room we were in.

"Sure!" But this time, his hand rested on the opposite side of my waist to guide me there. As soon as I entered, the people smoking cleared me a place, and I plopped down onto the cushion lazily.

"Stay here." June commanded, exiting back through the kitchen.

I glanced around the group. Jessica was smiling beside me, laughing at something the cute boy next to her was saying, while the other's were focused on taking their puffs. I was used to my dad smoking in his garage, so it didn't bother me much. It actually smelled kinda good. Like cherries.

"Wanna hit?" The blonde boy across from me asked, holding the small tube out for me.

"Sure." I replied immediately. Why not? Tonight was my night to get wild, my night to be a college kid. But Jessica interjected.

"June said not to let her smoke." Excuse me? I was older than him. He didn't get to tell me what to do. I growled, literally growled at the poor girl, snatching it from the boys hand and taking a long, deep drag from the tip.

Son of a bitch. I nearly coughed up a lung, but at least the taste was nice. Real nice, actually. But the next person was waiting for it, so I passed it on.

My fingers were thrumming on my leg along to the beat and I briefly wondered where the girls were. Maybe they texted me? It was funny, for every bit the alcohol stirred my adrenaline, the tobacco calmed it. It was an addicting feeling.

I fumbled my phone from my clutch, flipping it open to see ten text messages and three missed calls. Except none of them were from the girls.

No.

The shame I felt was killing my buzz, so I buried it back into my bag. I would tell him I fell asleep early and forgot to turn on my volume. Yea, that would work.

Minutes later, or what I assumed were minutes, I had the plastic bit in my teeth again as June entered the room. He froze, shooting Jessica a glare.

"Don't look at me like that. Your rabid girlfriend nearly bit me for trying to stop her." Was she talking about me? I don't bite. Well, okay, I bite Joel sometimes.

June knelt beside me, placing his hands on my legs.

"How're you feeling?"

"Great! I'm going to get a tattoo!" I slurred. His eyes widened.

"Not tonight, right?" He asked worriedly. I giggled.

"No. Someone is taking me later." He sighed in relief.

"That's cool. What're you going to get?"

"Cherry blossoms!" But he looked perturbed.

"Like Professor Becker's painting?" He finally asked, his bright eyes dim. I nodded excitedly.

"Oh. Why-?" But I interrupted.

"I need the bathroom." He smiled gently, standing back up and offering me a hand. I followed gleefully. Everything I was feeling brought me joy. I was unstoppable, shining with enthusiasm.

But that changed when I felt a tug on my free wrist.

"Jen? Is that you?"