50 Things I Hate About You

I Hate Your Friends

Mikey was sucked into the eye of the storm as soon as we stepped into the house. There were teens in every direction, and though I very rarely came to these parties, I knew the basics as Mikey had pounded them into my head before we'd even unlocked the doors of his car.

Under no circumstances accept drinks from other people.

Do not trust guys that say they "know where" something is.

If you think a guy is drunk, he probably is.

And when in need, call him.

Upon slipping through a couple making out against the dinner table, I caught sight of a cooler and smiled when I saw that there was water inside. The smile wavered when I straightened back up and found Ty making his way into the kitchen. He slowed to a stop when he caught sight of me and the smile that had been on his face extended into a full, toothy grin.

"Rory, hey!" I could barely hear him over the music and chatter, he must have seen it on my face because he grabbed my hand and led me through a long, dark hallway and back out on to the backyard. There were a few people smoking what smelt suspiciously like weed out on the grass, but the stairs were free and he lowered himself down. After a moment of contemplation I joined him.

It was far quieter out here, I could actually hear myself think. Not that I was given the chance too as he spoke as soon as I was beside him.

"I honestly didn't think you were gonna show."

I laughed at that, looking down at the water bottle between my hands. "And let Mikey miss his big chance? Never."

"That's pretty cool, you know, putting your own feelings aside for him."

"He'd do the same for me."

Though, if we were going by his track record the last couple weeks, I'd probably reconsider that notation.

"Tell me about yourself, Rory. All I know is what I hear secondhand."

I couldn't help myself. "And what's that?"

"That you're quiet. Smart. Keep to yourself." He shrugs. "Nothing bad, of course."

I tucked my hair behind my ear and considered his words before saying, "Um, I'm named after my mother's book. She's a romance author. The book's called Northern Lights. She said she was nine months pregnant and still didn't have a name. Not until one night she opened her book to edit it and it hit her." I smiled to myself. "I'd love to see them one day."

He nods, then shifts the focus on to himself. "I failed first grade."

I gasped immediately, hand over my chest dramatically and everything. "How do you fail first grade? That's like the easiest grade!"

"How much time you got?" he answers with a laugh.

I opened my mouth to answer, but what left me was a loud yelp as cold, sticky liquid soaked me. I instantly shot to my feet, flinging the excess off my hands and spinning on my heel to find the cheerleader that'd been hanging off Onyx standing with a feign shocked expression and her cup half tipped.

"What the hell, Erica?" Ty growled, smacking the empty cup out of the girls hand.

Erica looked to me with wide eyes. "I am so sorry. I didn't see you there!"

I stepped forward, everything in me wanting to unleash ten years of pent up aggression on the poor, insecure cheerleader, but instead I clenched my hand into a fist at the same time Ty touched my damp shoulder and said, "Come on, she's not worth it."