Eighty Days of Heartache

the eighteenth day; [3]

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THE EIGHTEENTH DAY
» PART [3]

I'VE MADE IT further into the night than I expected I would. It's currently bordering on 11 p.m, and considering the fact that I've been here at Kathleen's party since 6:30, I've managed to keep myself entertained and, to a degree, happy.

A large and drunk group of us sit in the lounge; Kathleen's version of a VIP area. It's the whole football team and some of their girlfriends, and a few of the boys have managed to smuggle a girl they're probably going to sleep with and chuck away tomorrow.

I can't tell who's worse; the boys who sleep around aimlessly with girls, or the girls that know that's all the boys are about, but still sleep with said boys anyway.

And even though Forrest isn't on the school's football team, he does happen to write about it often on the school's newspaper team. That, and he's best friend with Kathleen and Nero, so that's how he's squeezes himself into this dark and poorly lit room.

"Let's play a game!" Kathleen claps her hands excitedly, and a few drunken slurs at shouted out in agreement. Nero whoops loudly, making me laugh slightly. He isn't drunk, but most certainly tipsy. "It's between never—have—I—ever, or battleshots."

"What's battleshots?" A girl called Amy slurs from the other side of the room, pulling away from a heavy snogging session with the goal keeper, Ben.

Rolling her eyes at Amy, Kathleen rises from her seat and grabs several solo cups before giving each of us one. "Seeing as Amy doesn't know what battleshots is, we're playing never—have—I—ever."

A few people shout at Amy, but she's too busy shoving her tongue down Ben's throat to care what everyone else is saying. I'm sure her and Ben have been on and off dating for seven or so months, but right now, they seem pretty on.

Soon enough our cups are filled with Malibu and coke, and Ivy's looking at me as if this is all too familiar. I give her a tight lipped smile, and sniff at my drink to see how drunk I'm about to get.

The alcohol is heavy.

I'm about to get quite drunk.

Nero puts his arm around my shoulder, drawing me closer to his body and pressing his cheek to my hairline. "If you don't want to play, you don't have to baby," he whispers under his breath, which smells like stale beer, but I shake my head and give him a small smile. "You sure?"

I nod. "What's the worst a party game can do?"

Kathleen sits on the chaise lounge by herself, looking regal as she toys with a necklace made of pearls and lies around her throat. Her smile is malicious, and her intent is clear. She's out to break a few people tonight, and I can only pray one of those isn't me.

"Because I'm the hostess, I'll go first," she giggles at her words, leaning back and showing off her bronzed and practically glowing legs off. Those legs go on for miles, and unlike mine, are toned to perfection. "Never have I ever snuck someone into my bed room."

Everyone but Forrest, Amy and Nero take a sip of our drinks. I'm surprised about Nero, but then again he doesn't seem like the type of guy to be so casual when it comes to sleeping with people.