Danny Clark is a Nobody

Chapter Twenty One

Warning: Slightly NSFW, I think?

Danny's P.O.V

I am many things. However, a party person, I was not. I stood there silently in the crowd full of rowdy, wild teenagers. They were all drunk, at least they all acted as such. I was awkwardly brooding over the liveliness of the house. It was Nate who hosted this party, and he was deeply immersed in a "conversation" with some girl upstairs.

Will was flirting with a pretty girl as well, unaware of his friend looming over the dancers. Of course, his friend meaning me. A girl approached me. I had to admit, she was rather beautiful. "Hey, sexy." She spoke, rubbing her hand over my arm. I raised my brow at the gesture. She was clearly drunk.

"Hey." I smiled at her, trying to be polite. I could barely hear my thoughts over the loud hip hop music playing. "I love this song." She stated, getting closer to me. I could smell the alcohol on her. "Yeah, it's a good song." I said. She stumbled and I grabbed her waist to steady her. I was about to let go of her when she put her hands over mine.

"Are you new? I haven't seen you at a party before." She said loudly over the booming music. "Not quite. First party, though." I told her. "Aren't you hot? You should take off this blazer." She said in my ear. I blushed as she took it off me. Thankfully for the dim lights, she didn't see it.

"What's your name?" She asked. "Danny." I told her. "Yours?" I added. "Aisha." She said. "Do you wanna dance?" She asked, slurring slightly. I nodded and she grabbed my hand, leading me to the dance floor. She started dancing, encouraging me to do so as well. She swayed her hips against me, and held onto my shoulders.

I admired her beauty as I danced with her. Her short, black dress, her full lipsticked lips and half-lidded eyes. Her makeup was slightly smudged but that gave her a sense of ethereality, somehow. She pushed me against her so that our bodies were touching. She put my hand on her waist as she danced comfortably. The material of her dress was soft. 

I was a bit nervous to be this close to her. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable with my close proximity, with my hands on her. She danced sensuously when the song changed to a slower beat. She pushed my hand lower, so that it was inches away from her ass. "You're so hot." She whispered against me. I felt my cheeks heat up and I cleared my throat. "So are you." I told her. She wrapped her arms around my waist, making me tense up then relax.

I was probably awkward. She could probably tell I was extremely inexperienced and shy, but she didn't care as she danced happily. Someone bumped into us, spilling a drink on us, mostly on me. "Fuck." Aisha said, looking at the damage. Not that it was noticeable on tight, dark dress.

My white shirt, however, was sticking to me uncomfortably. "You okay?" I asked her. She looked up at me and nodded. "Oh, look at your shirt." She said, and touched my torso where the drink was spilled. My shirt was slightly transparent. I shivered when she put her hand up my shirt, touching my wet skin. "Come on, I'll help you clean up." She then grabbed her bag and led me to the bathroom.

I was shaking with nerves. I didn't want her to see my scars. However, she was either way too drunk, or I was exaggerating the level of mutilation, but she didn't spare my scars a second glance. She took my shirt off and pulled out a double-XL t-shirt from her tote bag.

She took some napkins and put them under water. Then, she rubbed it against my side. "Sticky drinks are the worst when they're spilled." She said, as if speaking from experience. She then handed me the t-shirt, which had a picture of Kurt Cobain. I pulled it over my head. "Thank you." I told her.

"No problem." She smiled, then leaned against me. "Wanna get a drink?" She asked. "I don't drink alcohol." I told her shyly. "A soda, then?" She said, and she pulled me toward the exit. We got a few stares; a guy and a girl exiting the bathroom together at a party. It's not a surprise that their minds turn to nasty things.