Where the hell do his parents disappear to?
I grab a drink from a server — because it’s totally normal to have servers and butlers at teenagers’ parties — and down it in one shot.
“Liquid courage this early?” Dan asks with a slight lift in his lips before he throws one, too.
I submit my hair. “Okay, how do I look?”
“Badass.” He pulls my cheek. “You should’ve gone wild before.”
By going wild, Dan means that I wore the sinfully short denim shorts that he made me buy on a dare last year.
My lips are painted red and my hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail that I spent an hour trying to make it look right.
I wore a strapless black top, but against Dan’s suggestions, I did put on my matching denim jacket.
I might want to feel powerful, but I still want to crawl back into my comfort zone.
Which won’t happen.
Thus liquid courage.
Dan and I down tequila shots for what seems like half an hour before he starts getting fidgety.
I push him in the direction of a second-year girl who’s been watching him the entire time. “Go shag.”
He waggles an eyebrow. “Wanna join?”
I make a face. “You suck, bug.”
“I can suck.”
“Eww, Dan. Now, I need bleach, thanks a bunch.”
He makes two guns as he walks backwards with a grin. “Call me and we’re out of here, okay?”
That’s some commitment for Dan.
Tonight is different. I’m not bailing out.
I down one more shot. Woah. The tequila here is strong enough to make me spin.
Wait. Am I the one spinning, or is the room?
Fun.
I came here to have fun.
Although my feet are unsteady, I keep going on zigzag lines towards the football team where Ronan’s having his drinking competition.
I steal a shot from a passerby and mumble a sorry here and there when I stumble upon someone — or two.
The plan is to watch from afar. Like really afar.
I hide behind a leaf that adds some shadow to my face.
See, not noticeable at all.
Heat creeps up my neck and my arms. It’s freaking hot in here.