Bringing Back Hallie

A/N-So this is my new story! I'm actually really excited to get cracking on this one, not going to lie. Haha :) Anyways...I sincerely hope you enjoy this and please please please (please?) let me know how you like it via comment and votes! You're all awesome ;)

Leaning against the wooden post in front of our house so that I don't tumble over and make a complete ass of myself in front of Jeanie and the guys, I look out at the darkened road and at the gorgeous guy occupying the passenger seat. He has his head tilted back against the headrest, his plump lips stretched across his face as he laughs at something that Fred probably said. God, he's so fucking gorgeous.

Even when I'm drunk as hell, like I was about an hour ago, I can't gather up the lady balls to just slink up to him and admit how much I like him to his face, that I've actually liked him since I've met him and that every time he brings one of his sluts over I want to smack her across the face. Hard. I can dance with him at parties, though, that's no problem. I have no problem letting him grab my hand and then turn my back against him so that we can grind together. That happens pretty much every weekend, no matter how sober we are.

We're dancing buddies.

But that's not enough for me. I want more out of the guy. I want him to lean down and kiss me while we're dancing like he does with the other girls, like I occasionally do with guys when I'm drunk enough. I want him to get angry when he sees me dancing with other guys like I do when I'm with other girls.

That's not going to happen though, I realize, leaning my head against the post as it suddenly gets super heavy. Just thirty minutes ago I was having the time of my life, playfully fist pumping to LMFAO with Fred. But now, I'm in that sad and pathetic winding down phase of the alcohol and all I want to do is go inside and fall inside of my bed. Not on top of it...inside of it.

"Bye bitch!" Jeanie calls out from the rolled down window of the backseat, and I smile when I see her smile at me, give me that smile she only reserves for when she's heavily intoxicated. Her brown hair falls over her shoulders in sweaty mats-Fred's car doesn't have air conditioning-and even from here I can see her blue eyes glowing from inside the rings of heavy black Kohl liner and sparkly eye shadow. But just as soon as she's told me bye, she leans back inside of the car and falls back against the seat, pointing her finger in front of her before yelling something undecipherable at Fred.

The car then speeds off down the road, leaving me all alone on the dark porch. Knowing that I'm in the state of mind to try and sneak back up to my bedroom, I sit my ass down on the wooden floors and then once again lean my head against the wooden post. Not knowing what else to do to occupy my time with, I grab a chunk of my light brown hair and bring it underneath my nose, giving it a whiff.

It smells like frat house. It smells like cheap, shitty beer and cigarettes.

Fuck.

I'm going to puke if I don't get into a bath and wash all of this gross off. I'm just going to have to make sure to be super super quiet so that my mom doesn't come out of her bedroom and read me the riot act yet again. So with this new determination swirling around in my head, I sloppily stand back up, and then smile to myself when I have to lean against the post again so that my head stops spinning from the movement.

That's my favorite part of alcohol, the brain spinning thing. Well, besides the fact that I'm actually fun to be around and people like me when I'm drunk. But that's a given.

It takes a few seconds for my head to stop swirling, but once it's done, I reach into my bra and pull my house key out. After that I reach into my shoe and pull my phone out from where it's been resting on the top of my foot. I turn the flashlight app on and then point it at the keyhole in the doorknob, but before I can even attempt to put the key in the knob, the door comes flying open.