[✓] reconnected , c. besson

↦ chapter 9

8:00 pm, saturday | ༄
(miranda's pov)
"not a fan of parties either, eh?"

I was bored out of my skull. it was a saturday night, and i had nowhere to go. usually i'd call up kathy and we'd go running around the city, but she was halfway across the world. janelle wasn't available either.

i sat on my bed scrolling through instagram, seeing everyone out and having fun. i wish i had friends to go out with. my life is only interesting when i'm interacting with corbyn.

corbyn.

his name hadn't crossed my mind all day. the only real interaction we had today was me blowing him off because of what he said last night. i sat on my bed trying to think of what i had said yesterday.

oh, i yelled at him because i thought he was calling me dirty.

i sighed and threw my head back into my pillow. that probably hurt his feelings. my anger was really, and i mean REALLY, excessive. i may not like him, but i at least know that i should apologize to him.

i picked my phone up from the end of my bed and unlocked it, scrolling down in my contacts to find him. once i finally found it, i hit the dial button and listened to the line ring. he picked up after two rings.

"miranda! hey! i didn't think that you'd ever call me again." i heard corbyn say. "awh, i'm sorry for making you think that. i was just calling because i wanted to apologize for yelling at you last night." i said. i heard corbyn laugh nervously over the line. "nah, you don't need to apologize, it's completely my fault." he said in a sympathetic tone. "but it's not! i was jumping to conclusions and taking everything out of proportion, it's MY fault." i said, refusing to let corbyn take all of the blame. he slightly laughed.

"thanks for that. you yelling at me was kinda throwing me off for most of the day." corbyn said in relief. "of course. is there anything i could do to make it up to you?" i asked, hoping he didn't ask for me to sleep at his apartment again. "well... there is ONE thing.."
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and that's how i ended up at some shitty house party on a saturday night.

i've never been a party person, and corbyn knows that. he told me that he wanted me to "burst out of my shell" and meet new people. i wasn't having any of that. how is it possible to meet new people when everybody around me is drunk?

i shoved my way through the crowd trying to make it to the kitchen so i could get another can of coke. lemme tell ya, shoving through a bunch of drunk young adults is NOT one of the funnest things to do. but, i eventually did reach the kitchen, so i couldn't complain.

the kitchen was the place to soak in some solitude before heading out back to the chaos. the only people that were there were the sober friends who had to drive everyone back home at the end of the night. it was pretty neat, i won't lie. the people here weren't loud talkers, and quietly whispered to each other in hopes of not disturbing the others around them.

i walked over to the fridge and looked inside, noticing that they had ran out of coke. i sighed and reached inside, grabbing bottled water instead. i opened it and sat on one of the barstools in front of the kitchen island. opening my phone, i scrolled through twitter, looking at the recent updates about celebrity drama and politics.

"not a fan of parties either, eh?" i heard somebody say next to me.

i turned my head and made direct eye contact with a dirty blond haired boy. he sat in the barstool right next to mine, messing with his can of sprite. i shrugged. "i didn't even plan on coming here, actually. my friend brought me." i said as i put my phone in my pocket and faced the boy.

he laughed. "same, i can't stand being at parties anymore. they're always the same deal, people get drunk, grind on each other, make love, etc." the boy said. "if you don't mind me asking, what's your friend's name?" he said while lifting his can up to his lips and taking a sip. "his name is corbyn." i said, and the boy practically choked on his soda.

"uh, is everything alright?" i asked while patting his back so that he wouldn't go into a coughing frenzy. he shook it off and looked at me. "it's nothing. just thought it was funny that we share a mutual friend." the boy said and laughed a bit. "i never got your name, by the way. what is it?" i perked up. "miranda, what about you?" "daniel. nice to meet you."

me and daniel talked for a while until we both realized that we could barely hear each other.

"wanna get outta here?" he asked "i have a car, i could drive you to a nearby diner and we could get dinner before i drop you back home." i nodded my head and he helped me get up. we walked through a crowed room of drunk people and struggled to make it all the way to the door.

but, nevertheless, we did.

daniel guided me to where his car was and held the door open for me. once he got inside, he pulled out of the driveway and started driving. i put on "My Time" by BTS and we both listened to it together, dancing along to the beat. i had to admit, i was having fun.

Ding!

my phone chimed and i went to check it. it was corbyn, he was trying to call me.

"do you mind if i made a call real quick?" i asked, turning to daniel. he shook his head and turned off the music. i answered corbyn's call and held the phone to my ear. "hello?" i said.

"where the hell are you?"

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