"I see her from across the crowd. I said, the party is bumpin' and the music is loud..." - High School Party
. . .
Hamilton, Massachusetts, 2007
Justine
We walk into the party holding hands without either of us even noticing. My fingers are tangled with his, but it's just instinct. Second nature.
It's loud and full of teenage angst, trap music blasting and dancing bodies sweating.
"Fuck. This is exactly how they said it would be in the movies," I say, tightening my grip on Bo's hand. He smiles humorously, and stares forward.
"I guess we're really doing this, huh?" His eyes look like they're begging me to say no, but I'm not the one who backs down from a challenge.
"It's all part of the high school experience," I reply nonchalantly, but the smell of alcohol and vomit is making me nauseous.
Bo shrugs, his figure towering over everyone else.
"Alright. If you need me, just look up. I'll be the one standing a foot over everyone else," he jokes.
I smile. We're really doing this.
"In 3," I say.
"3."
"2."
"1."
Bo lets go of my hand, and, almost immediately, a gorgeous blond girl comes up and starts flirting.
I step into the party, but I don't see any familiar faces. I turn back around, but Bo's already disappeared, his slouch sinking him below the line of heads. I sigh and walk over to the refreshments table to pour myself a beer.
I already regret everything.
. . .
Bo
A pretty blond girl starts chatting me up, clearly drunk and wobbling on her high heels.
"So, are you a senior?" She giggles crazily, and brushes my arm with her fingers.
"Yeah. Senior year," I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets.
"Wanna drink?" She pulls me towards the refreshments table, and points to the impressive layout of stolen liquor and lukewarm beer. I shrug.
"Is there soda?"
She bursts into laughter as if it's the funniest joke she's ever heard, and I run my fingers through my hair, a little confused and embarrassed.
Is it not a thing to like soda?
She takes me to another room where the music is so loud it feels like every hair on my head is just going to shake itself off. I glance around, trying to find Justine. I don't see her.
The girl begins to rub up on me, and the smell of alcohol on her breath makes me sick. I push her away.
"Oh, come on! Don't be such a party pooper," the girl drawls drunkenly, giggling. I shove her away, and look around.
Justine isn't near the refreshments. She isn't in the bathroom. She isn't on the dance floor.
I push my way through the crowd and head upstairs.
"Justine!" I shout. It's much quieter up here. I don't get a response. I pull out my phone and see three missed calls from her. My stomach starts to churn.
I walk across the hallway upstairs and open a door. I open all the doors on one wall, disturbing three horny couples. Then, I slam all the doors shut and turn back. I head into a different hallway with just three doors.
