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6/15/15
I SIT ON the beach as the party just up a ways from me hits full swing.
I don't know what it is about tonight, but I'm just not in the mood. But Kylie wanted to come, and I would never let her come to a party by herself. Especially the beach ones. These tended to get more out of control than any other parties Easton's teen population had. Maybe it is the ocean, or maybe the alcohol, but either way these parties are always wild.
I run a finger around my can of beer I am holding. I mess with the tab for a while listening to the swish of the liquid in the can along with the sounds of the waves kissing the beaches shore.
I wish I liked beer. It seems to be the only things these parties supply, but sadly I hate it. The taste is bitter and hard to keep down, but the tingling feeling it causes I can't help but love. I tip the can back to my mouth and take a sip forcing myself to swallow.
"Ugh," I mutter as I make a face of disgust.
"Don't like it?" I hear a boy's voice say in the darkness.
I look up to see a shadow of a person making their way towards me. A wave of nerves flash through me as I realize I'm alone and an easy target for attack. But as he walks further forward the lights on the beach shine against his face, and I realize I recognize him. Kind of.
"It's an acquired taste," he tells me.
I tear my eyes away from the guy, and make sure my phone is on and near me in case he tries anything. I really shouldn't have left Kylie, but she is with Maddy and Ashley and they are way better wing women then I ever will be.
"That's why I'm trying to acquire it," I quip back.
I hear a small chuckle before I see him sit down next to me in the soft sand.
"Why aren't you with everyone else at the party?" He asks as he takes a pull from his can of beer.
"Why aren't you?" I counter instead of answering his question. Because the truth is I'm awkward, and I don't know how to flirt with guys. So Kylie taught me that answering a question with a question is the easiest sure way to flirt, especially for people like me who suck at it. Though I'm not sure why I'm trying to flirt with this guy, I don't even know him.
"Bored," he answers simply.
My eyebrows rise at this mystery guy. "Really?" I ask. "With all those pretty girls over there you're bored?" I say once more not believing his words. I wrap my arms around my knees feeling suddenly feeling insecure about his reasons for sitting next to me.
He lets out a quiet laugh. "What a guy can't get bored at a party?"
I lift a single shoulder. "With pretty girls in skimpy outfits and alcohol in the mix they usually don't," I say truthfully.
