Partys are never great.

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Izzy.

Edited.

The cocaine wasn't the problem, it was Vinnie Abrams weak ass stomach.

The drug -- originally for EJ Vance -- had been picked up by me from the Fontaine boys, after dad made me tidy my room before going out. I was going to deliver it to EJ when he got to the after party.

That was until Vinnie showed up early and offered me an obscene amount of money for it. I tossed it to him without a second thought -- giggling, I even cut the lines for him and held his drink as well as held his hand throughout his first Coke experience.

So that's how I ended up spending the majority of the first few hours of the party in the bathroom with Vinnie. I watched as he counted the tiles on the walls over and over, and realized I may had made a mistake.

When we finally stumbled out, my aunts house was packed and seemingly had shrunk -- because there was no way the five bedroom, 4 bathroom house on the canals could ever be that full.

The house was as nice as it was on the outside as the inside. It was an antique-filled, distinguished home where the furniture was wooden, well polished and walnut. The windows were draped in cotton lace and each room carefully thought out. The house was full of muted colours, pale pink and peach. The walls were covered in elaborate, ornate trim. It was feminine in its arcs and curves. There was a chandelier hanging from the kitchen ceiling, accentuated with crystals. It complimented the long French windows, and high Georgian cabinets, each their own shade of off white.

Aunty Camila was horrified, a few years ago, when the kitchen had to be remodelled. They had included a overhead range, a new electric stove and sink, and a dishwasher. To her, it had lost its charm. The kitchen and breakfast area opened into one of the sitting rooms. We were all still quite scared to touch anything. The house was decorated with photos of my aunt and her seven sisters -- Mum being the youngest.

"There you fucking are," Sam said, wrapping me in a tight hug, "The Easts guys just got here." She whispered, and sure enough the next wave through the door was only Easts kids. The Easts kids had given me twenty dollars each, and that went towards food and drinks for everyone. I skimmed the rest that was meant to be for security, getting my cousins to do it for free and simultaneously paying for the weekly shopping.

With her hand on my wrist, Sam led me down from the bathroom through the hallway and lounge room to the kitchen. Corey was drinking straight from a bag of goon as we approached. She managed to slop it all down her white top, standing silently, and letting people push past her.

"You good?" I asked, trying to blot out the stain on her shirt with tissues.

"Shit actually. I could hear everyone talking about me and the footy boys, then Isaac was a dick." Corey had only ever been with one footy boy -- who since had moved to the city -- but he denied ever being with her. That's when the rumours started, of her having slept with all of them, of her being a slut and a liar and a bitch.

I ran my hands through her hair and tried to get her to smile. She just rubbed her temples. Sam and I shared a grimace.

"Disappointed but not surprised." Sam pressed her fingers into the silver bag of goon and watched it move with a kind of enthusiasm. People from Easts and shit hovered around, and I had the unshakable sense that they were trying to overhear what we were saying.

"Fuck 'em," I shouted loudly, my lip curling back as the others scattered at the sound of my voice. "We could literally just leave."

Watching them leave through the kitchen door, Corey joked, "I would, but I spent ten bucks on alcohol and I intend to drink every bit." She pointed to two bottles of pink wine on the table, giving us a thumbs up. Sam nicked a bottle with a wink and waded back out into the hordes of people. "Bitch!" Corey called after her, and went to chase her down. I sighed, lightheaded and struggled to pull myself up onto the kitchen counter top.

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