Regrets ; a.i

First impressions

I stumble through the door, a fake smile on my lips and the taste of cherry vodka on my tongue. I kick my heels off, letting my feet ache as they touch the cold floor.

I hear my mother's laugh ring through the house followed by a very manly laugh. I sigh and rub my eyes.

"Sweetie, is that you?" My mother calls across the house.

I want to lie and run to my room, I don't want her to see me drunk and I don't want to meet whoever is in the kitchen.

"Yes. I'm gonna toooo bed," I slur a few words and stumble as I attempt to walk to the stairs.

My mother chuckles softly in the kitchen. "Come here for a second. I want you to meet someone," she calls and I can tell she's also had a few glasses of wine.

I groan and make my way to the kitchen where I find her with some guy in a suit and a bottle of wine.

"Jen, this is Marcus," she motions at the man. I stare at him and I stumble before I catch myself on a chair and I stare at him and he looks like he'd be a business man. Not typically someone my mother tries to go for, but, I guess maybe she's expanding her horizons.

"Nice to meet you," he extends his hand and I start giggling at how formal that is.

I reach my hand over and I miss his hand before I grab it and give it a nice shake. "Nice to meet you too, except I'm sure in about a month or so you'll be gone and I'll be meeting someone else." I pull my hand back and gasp because I realize I just said that out loud.

"Jen," my mother snaps.

I giggle more and shrug my shoulders. "Sorry, but I mean it's not like I'm lying. Now, I'm going to bed and taking this dress off because it's getting on my nerves." I mumble and I might of slurred a few words but I'm not too sure.

"Are you drunk?" My mother asks harshly.

I shake my head. "Noooo," I start giggling and walking away, "I'm never drunk." I start to run to my room but I do hit the wall a few times and trip up the stairs. I do get drunk more than I'd ever like to admit, but it helps me cope some of the nights I can't handle.

I shut the door behind me and jump on my bed. The moment my face hits the pillow I smile, but it quickly vanishes. I suck at first impression, except maybe that day I met Ashton. That might've been my only good first impression, and I can't explain why. Well not the very first time I said hi, but the first time we talked went pretty well, I think so anyways.

I lay myself on my back so I can stare at the ceiling and I begin to think back to it, and it's fresh in my head since I talked about it a few days ago with that lady.

~ Flash Back ~
// June 16th, 2015 //

Ashton pulled me outside and I couldn't help but swoon at the deep dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. I watched him as he continued to lead me to by the water. Then he just sat down.

I stared at him for a few moments before shrugging and sitting myself down on the sand. I took my heels off and dug my toes into the soft beads. I looked forward and felt the wind blow a fresh breeze through my hair. It was humid outside, but not enough to make my hair go totally crazy. Something about it all seemed perfect; the weather, the wedding, everything about the night.

"Drink?" Ashton asked, half hearted and extended a glass in my direction.

I smiled and took the glass with no hesitation. "If you don't mind."

Ashton chuckled and poured him and myself some wine. "Reagan talks about you a lot," he spoke softly.

I stayed silent and took a large gulp of my wine. He didn't say that like it was a good thing, and I know Reagan can say stuff to make people see me differently.