Can i have a ride home? - Dreamnap

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upbeat pop music blasting in my ears, the cool dusk draft comes in from the window in which is slightly ajar. i sigh, opening up my phone and -- oh, nevermind. my parents call me from downstairs.

i climb down the ladder leading down from the attic. headphones around my neck and a baggy hoodie over my body.

"what's got you in the mood, eh kid? ignorin' me and shit?"

"uh, i 'dunno, just didn't hear you i guess."

"-anyways, me and your mom are headin' out. lock the door behind us, we'll be back tomorrow night. 'kay, kid?"

"okay."

they walk out the door, pull out of the driveway and eventually drive out of sight into the dark night.

already have climbed back up to my room, i slump down on a random chair, pulling out my phone. i stare down at the desk in front of me, deep in thought for a moment.

i push off the chair onto my feet, grabbing my keys, a phone  charger, and my wallet. i open the window, sitting ontop the roof for a breif moment before sliding down the shingles and to the ground.

i end up walking to the corner store just down the block, picking up a few energy drinks, some new lighters, and a pack of smokes. the people who work there know me quite well as im a regular, plus it's kinda run down and shitty. don't really care that i'm underage.

i grab my bag of shit and walk out, thanking the employee. as i walk down the street i crack open one of the monster cans and take a few sips. i keep walking as the sound of music starts to fade into my head, sounding like i'm walking closer to the noise.

my head perks up, curious about the sound. i keep walking in that direction, soon enough im standing in front of a house with lights blaring in my eyes and music blasting in my ears. i fix my headband and walk in.

tons of people flood my vision, if only i was exaggerating when i said at least almost half the school was here. i manage to work my way into one of the corners where it's much less loud.

red solo cup filled with cheap alc in hand, cramped in the corner of a sweaty mess of a house now. i sit on a white plastic lawn chair that's pressed up against the wall. tons of people dancing on the floor and getting drunk, leaning on each other. making out. the music changes to some lovey dovey shit, couples who aren't busy indulging in each other are on the floor slow dancing -- or at least trying to.

a blonde-haired, green-eyed man comes over to the corner, maybe a yard or two away from me, presumably in the same, sad situation as me. whiskey bottle in his strong, tanned hand and messy, sweaty hair.

i look at him, he looks at me. we stare for a second before breaking eye contact. i down the rest of my drink as he makes his way over to me, stopping right next to me. he leans down so our eyes are the same level.

"hey bud. what's with the look ya' got there?" he smiles at that, a snarky expression. god, he's pretty looking. deep green-blue eyes, messy short hair. tanned skin and freckles. that's gross, sap. stop thinking that, disgusting.

"i don't know, you're the one who came up to me."

"well maybe i came up to you because you were looking at me ya' dummy."

"shut up."

what

did i say that

huh

i didn't mean to

did he take that seriously?

is he mad?

fuck.