Scarlett
Lucas has been keeping me company for over an hour after he convinced me not to leave the party. By keeping me company I mean he's been standing outside in the chilly New England air with me, while I pace incessantly, ranting off to him.
"-but really fuck men. Men are trash." I say for at least the fiftieth time in this hour. "And to think my silly ass actually liked him for a hot second."
"You actually liked that asshole?" Lucas blows on his hands and quickly rubs them together.
"Yea,- well no... I mean I liked the idea of him. But how could you blame me? I'm a freshman, hundred of miles from home, and obviously very lonely, so of course, I would develop pseudo feelings for the first guy to show me any kind of affection." It's partially true but Lucas was actually the first guy here to show me any type of attention, which could also explain my growing feelings towards him, which I really need to sort out asap.
I like Lucas, I like him a lot, but I shouldn't like him. We're too different in more ways than one for this attraction to ever successfully play out.
"Fuck men," I say out of frustration. "Men-"
"Are trash. Yes, Scarlett, I know. Hell, the whole world knows that now. You only said it a couple thousand times. Are you done ranting? It's cold out here and I know you have to be freezing in that." He gestures to my outfit and a wave of self-consciousness washes over me. He probably thinks I'm some type of slut in this dress.
"Ricky convinced me to wear this and my dumbass listened to her." I pull the short dress down a bit, but it does nothing. "Another regret of the night."
"I figured," Lucas says nonchalantly. "You don't usually wear things like that. Not saying that it doesn't look good on you because it does. You look extremely sexy right now and it's taking every ounce of self-control I have not to touch you right now." His last sentence tumbles out catching us both off guard. I don't know what to say.
"Um..." I start off. My heart is racing and now I'm nervous again.
What the hell?
"I'm at a party and I'm sober." He nervously chuckles. "Can we please go back in so I get fucked up and forget that I actually said that out loud?" He doesn't wait for my answer before making his way back in the house. I quickly follow him not wanting to left alone in the dark. I hate the dark.
"Where do you think they keep the weed? Because right now I need a blunt."
"Weed is disgusting." I resist the urge to make a face enough though he wouldn't be able to see it anyways.
"Not answering my question." He says weaving through the crowd. I'm struggling to keep up with him.
"I don't know - slow down."He slows down a bit, but it's not much. It's difficult to keep up with someone's whose legs are almost the height of you.
"Forget the weed then. Where's the bar?"
"There's no bar."
"Then where do they keep the alcohol?"
"Kitchen." Truthfully, I really don't want to be anywhere near the kitchen after my near slip up earlier.
Lucas, oblivious to my hesitation, turns around and starts making his way towards the kitchen. I begrudgingly following him like a lovesick puppy when a side conversation makes my ears start ringing.
"Did you hear that she turn him down? She's a dumb fucking bitch."
"She probably thinks she's too good for him. She's a bougie ass bitch."
"I heard he was really into her though. Like he was trying to cop a relationship with ole girl."
