Not Another High School Love Story

5. Friends Like These

My heart pounds in my ears as we stand at the end of the walk, looking at Marcus Wilson's house. This will be my first—and probably only—high school party, and I'm struck with an overwhelming need to impress these people I've never cared about impressing in my entire life. The music doesn't seem too loud, I can just barely hear the throbbing bass from where we're at, but the yard is littered with kids from school. Brent had failed to tell us it's a Halloween party, but I guess maybe we should've figured since it's the end of October. It's not that bad for me, it looks like most of the guys didn't bother dressing up, but I'm concerned about Grace. We already don't belong here, and she's going to stick out even more since the rest of the girls are dressed up in the sluttiest costumes I've ever seen.

She's brave though, the same as always, and it doesn't seem to bother her being the odd man out. In fact, she makes an assortment of sassy remarks as she follows closely behind Brent. I trail both of them, almost mystified by the new experience. The music is suddenly so much louder when we step up on the porch and the door opens, and I'm immediately blasted by a mixed smell of alcohol and weed. Despite the path that Brent and Grace pave before me, I still have to push my way through a wall of my peers to stay close to them, and we end up in the living room.

"Lighten up, you look terrified." Brent leans in incredibly close to speak in my ear, ensuring that I can hear him over all the noise. His breath on my neck makes the hair there stand on end, and even though I'm not that fond of him I instinctively move in closer. At least I know him better than anyone else around me, and it makes him feel safe in that way. Somehow he seems to sense this as he laughs. "Grab a drink and try to have some fun, I'll catch you later."

"Wait, where are you going?" I panic, but his only answer is a wink as he leaves me here alone. He doesn't go too far though, and I continue watching as he approaches Madison. Of course she's dressed the sluttiest of them all, and he puts his hands on her hips as he leans into her ear too. She seems to like whatever he says, because she throws her head back and cackles loud enough for me to hear it. Her talons curl around his belt and she pulls him in, whispering her own words before they lock hands and wander off. I'm not an idiot, I can guess what happens next.

Grace throws an arm on my shoulder, leaning against me as she stares after him too. Even though she's in love with him it doesn't seem to bother her that he's left us for Madison. I know it's not supposed to bother me either, obviously he wasn't going to hang out with us Losers all night. Regardless, even without him I realize I'm not alone, I'm here with the coolest person in the whole world, and I nudge her playfully as we head into the kitchen to find something to drink. I'm not sure what exactly is in my cup, and neither is Grace, but she tells me to drink it anyway while we race to see who can finish first.

"That tastes terrible." She giggles, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Neither of us are big drinkers, so I'm not all that surprised.

"Agreed, I think that's it for me." I stick out my tongue and mimic a gagging sound. None of the Populars are paying attention to us anyway, so I don't know who I'm trying to impress.

"Don't tell me you want to go home already?" Grace taunts, refilling my cup. She does the same to hers and then holds it up like she's making a toast, "we finally got invited to a real party, don't blow it. Let's just be like everyone else for once. Please?"

"You know that's peer pressure, right? This is how it starts." It's only half a joke but I laugh anyway, trying another sip of my mysterious beverage. Somehow it tastes worse than it did before and I spit it back into my cup, causing her to almost choke as she snickers. She's my best friend, I can't help but join her, but when the laughter dies down we're still the same as before. We stand off to the side by ourselves like typical wallflowers, and when I speak to her again I'm sarcastic. "Are we having fun yet?"