Lights Out | Daniel Diaz

Party's Outside

"Coming through — shit — sorry!"

"Watch it!"

Annoyed, I force my way through a group of tipsy girls, grimacing at the smell of what I guess is sweat mixed with Bath & Body Works perfume. Even as I pass them and no longer feel their sharp glares drilling the back of my head, I'm still a long way from the exit. As self-centered as it might sound, it feels like everyone's standing in my way specifically to ruin my mood, too.

Maybe I should just give up — to hell with Daniel and his stupid bandana. I could go back to the bar where I could still find my seat unoccupied, or join Jane and Veronica who're probably mopping the dance floor with their hair by now. Contemplating, I almost turn on my heels when I crash into someone much taller than me.

"Faye?"

I look up and blink. Standing under the blue light is a curly haired boy with thick eyebrows and a nose piercing, looking amused. I raise a brow.

"Blackwood? What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" he repeats in disbelief, moving away from a group of seniors I recognize from school. This boy — Bruno Blackwood — is one of the three Americans in my AP Statistics and Global History classes. Our nationality is probably the only reason we partially got along. "I could ask you the same thing. Shit, I barely recognized you in all that glam." I glance down at my dress with a shrug, and he continues, "Wouldn't your parents kill you for being here?"

"Wouldn't yours?" I deadpan, crossing my arms.

"I have alibis. Sleepover with Santiago and Javi from our AP Statistics class," he says smugly, as though he was waiting for me to ask. "But, y'know, I didn't picture you as the party type. Especially with the exam on Tuesday."

A pang of distress hits me straight in the gut. I groan. "Do not remind me. It's not like you're preparing either."

Last week I promised myself I was gonna start studying for the History exam coming up. But with my after-school Psychology class and the whole hype of my parents being gone for two weeks, I ended up sliding it down to the bottom of my To-Do-List.

At first, I tried keeping my promise. But anytime I started reading something remotely historical I'd get a bad headache. Lately, I get migraines whenever I attempt remembering things from a long time ago, and they get progressively worse the more I focus on the memory. Thinking back too much and too often costs an entire bottle of Advil. So, of course, I did whatever a rational person would when they have an important exam in a few day's time.

I stopped studying.

"This is kinda my coping mechanism," admits Bruno, gesturing at the club's setting. It's mine, too, but I don't voice that thought. "I'm gonna fail anyway."

Over his shoulder I see a bulky boy with dreads from the group of seniors waving him over, pointing his finger at the beverage in his other hand with a smirk. They're about to make a toast. That's my queue to leave.

But before I can awkwardly slide away into crowd, Bruno gives me a silly grin. "Look, the night's still young," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "And we could use a bit of bonding to make up for our argument on Friday. Wanna join?"

Startled, I blink. Partying with Bruno Blackwood?

On Friday we were supposed to present our History project in front of the whole class. We were in a group of four, originally, but our other members, Maria and Anthony didn't come that day, so Bruno and I had to handle it ourselves. He kept interrupting me even after I told him to shut the hell up, and we messed up Maria and Anthony's part of the project.