𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑺𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑫 𝑴𝑬 // mileven

thirty-six

"miles and el."

✧ ﾟ･:*✧ ﾟ:*ﾟ　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"el, hon, how many drinks have you had?" max says with a soft sigh, half-heartedly pulling the cup of vodka down from my lips, even though she knows that there's no way in hell that i'm letting go of it.

i gulp down the intoxicating liquid, squeezing my eyes shut and making every effort to ignore max's concerned stare, knowing that if i look into her eyes i'm going to realize that i don't want to be here.

but i do want to be here. i have to want to be here.

"el, look." max begins, guiding me away from the crowd of sweaty high schoolers and towards the nearby kitchen counter. "you don't have to go to your house, just stay at mine. if that's what's keeping you from leaving this shit show—"

"no." i blurt out, my tipsiness evident in the way i'm already beginning to speak incoherently. "i... i'm not leaving. i like this."

"no, el, you like the idea of this." max says,  shoving a guy who drunkingly tumbles into her. "c'mon, let's sit on the porch or something."

max reaches for my hand, which i yank away from her, giving the redhead a glare before i grip the edge of the kitchen counter and stumble away from her. max half-heartedly calls out my name, but i know that she lacks the energy to come running after me herself.

anyway, i know high school party culture. i am high school party culture. i'm used to this. i know how to get drunk and not end up being taken advantage of. i know how to keep my drink covered, even when it's 3 am and i'm a mess and slurring my words. max knows that too, so she knows i'll be fine.

i look over my shoulder at my best friend, and i watch her lose the little self control she's managed to keep up all night. whether it be a lapse of judgement, or simply a need for a distraction, she pours herself a drink and guzzles it down.

————

"damn." someone says from beside me, snorting out a drunken laugh. "how many drinks is that?"

i don't bother to turn my head to look at who's speaking to me. i just lean back further into the plush couch i'm collapsed on and let my head flop down onto their shoulder.

"stopped keeping t-track... two hours ago..." i mumble, proceeding to gulp down what's left in my plastic cup, and tossing it to the side once it's empty.

"i'm still pretty sober." the person says, and i realize that it's a guy. a guy who's currently awkwardly patting my head as i continue to lean on him.

"why... why a-are you stroking my... my hair..." i blurt out, struggling to form words as confusion blankets me.

his hand immediately stills and he slowly pulls it away from my head. it's a little funny.

"uh, i read that in a book. apparently when someone puts their head on your shoulder, they're in need of comfort. so i deduced that the appropriate thing to do would be to... to do a comforting gesture. sorry, if that was weird. god, that was totally weird, shit." he rambles, and i have to purse my lips together to keep a chorus of laughter inside.

"are you trying... do you want me to — have sex with you...?" i question, lifting my head up so i can squint at the boy, trying to make out his facial features through the pulsating lights surrounding us.