Out Of My League

Bullshit

I ignore him to the best of my abilities.

He tries to start a conversation many times but I always reply with yea and turn to my phone. It must have been awkward for him to get shot down so many times but I was not in the mood to talk to him. I can't believe I thought that I'd rather be in school than here.

The car ride felt longer than it was meant to be.

I was slowly dying of boredom and playing Temple Run wasn't doing it any justice. It was slowly getting dark and I just wanted to go home.

We finally reached the hall where my dear parents and a 1000 other fake bitches would be drinking expensive champagne and throwing out fake smiles.

Since Chris is so chivalrous, he didn't even open my door. Not that I was expecting him to.

I got out and contemplated whether I should run. But it was a really unrealistic scenario. I imagined myself attempting to outrun Chris with my 6-inch heels and thought better and decided to not make a fool out of myself before even attending the party.

The ball screamed expensive. Infact everything screamed expensive. I bet the utensils cost more than my dress. And mind you, my dress was expensive as shit.

There were people everywhere, clad in fancy gowns and sharp tuxes. The sweet smell of perfume lingered in the air. Glasses of champagne were being drained and filled. Music was playing lightly over the speakers. Women bonding over their love for pearls and men over politics. Children sitting in groups, focused on their phones.

I didn't belong here.

I didn't want to. Ever.

But I was born in this. This was supposed to be my life. This was supposed to be me.

I caught sight of my mom making her way over to me. She looked elegant but when did she not. Her reputation was everything to her. She stood in front of me and gave me a once over. Her blood red lips went into a thin line. She liked it but had to criticize.

"Thank god for that Ashley or your hair would have been a mess. The things I do for you. Atleast show some gratitude and appreciate what I do for you."

Thank you mother, for never spending time with me. Thank you for criticizing everything I do. Thank you for never giving a shit about me.

But of course that's not what I say. Instead I just say thanks and brush past her.

I go sit by the fancy bar filled with every drink you would ever want. I just grab a flute of champagne and drown it quickly.

I hate this.

I want to just scream and let out what I've been holding in for years.

But as always, I just keep it in and stay quiet.

I don't have voice here.

Just after I swallow my third drink, I see Chris making his way towards me. Great.

"Hey babe," he says to me in a tone that's supposed to be sexy.

"Chris," I say holding my drink up.

"Your mom is asking for you in the hallway."

"Well fuck her, I don't want to see her," I slur out.

Fuck, I'm pissed drunk.

"Come on, she'll be pissed if you don't come," he says lifting me up and dragging me alongside him.

This doesn't feel right...

"Wait-" hiccup, "I don't want to go right now."

"Isabelle, don't keep her waiting."