What Matters Most (H.S Fan Fiction)

Chapter 11: Unclear

Friday:

Ryder's Point of View:

Ok Maybe I had been overthinking this... a lot.

Everytime I would try to think of something different, my thoughts would still drift back to Harry. It was the same feeling I got when I accidently broke my mother's travel vase, I tried to hide it but I constantly kept thinking about and soon guilt was eating me alive, licking at my bones and I ended up blabbing.

This wasn't the first time Harry had ignored me, but that was before we were friends, is this how friends are supposed to act towards one another? I mean I wouldn't know I've never really had friends before. I mean I've had people to party with, people whom I thought were my friends at the time but at the end of the day they never cared enough about me to stick around.

I don't care though, I don't like to wallow in self pity, it was pointless. As was having friends in the first place.

It was Friday, I was tired, school was over, and teenagers were getting ready for their weekly ragers. Which I knew Harry would attend. The wierd thing is that I've never seen Harry actually consume alchol.

Maybe I could go to the party tonight, yeah my mom would be pissed but only for a little while. The consequences wouldn't be huge anyway.

* * * * * *

Once again the stench of marijuana enveloped my senses, a teeange boy met me at the door with a platter of shots.

"I don't drink." I stated, shoving myself past him.

I looked around the giant house a bit, recgonizing some faces from school.

My lungs filled with toxic smoke from people's cigarettes, making my way to the kitchen for a water bottle. If there even were water bottles at this party. But before I take a step into the kitchen, I catch sight of Harry with a bottle in hand.

We locked eyes for a moment and I bolted.

I couldn't confront Harry. Not like this. What was I even thinking, coming to a party where he was hanging with his friends, surrounded by people he knows.

The same boy from before stopped me before I could make it out the door, offering me shots again.

"I don't dr..." I stopped myself from finishing the sentance,"Fuck it." I downed a couple of shots, the liquid burning as it slid down my throat. I shuttered.

* * * * * *

After many many and I mean many shots later. I am dancing with some random guy, clearly my judgement was clouded. I had no control over myself, I was just going with the music, with a sweat guy pressed up against my body.

I could feel his breath, sending shivers down my spine. His hair matted to his sweaty forhead.

I laughed lazily, losing my balance and falling over on my ass. The guy leant down probably to help me up, his hand making its way to my inner thigh but before he could go any further he was pulled off of me harshly.

I groaned.

Harry.

Harry is pissed off at the guy, but I don't really understand what he's saying. Somewhere on the lines of, if you touch her one more time I'll kick your ass... and he says I have anger issues.

I stood up, stumbling a bit as I did so,"Harrryyyy what the fuckkkkk." I wined childishly, he grabbed my waist steadying me.

"What the hell are you doing?" He questioned sharply.

"I'm getting trashed man, isn't that what you're supposed to do at a party?" I stated lazily turning to walk away, Harry followed me.

"I don't know, I say do what you want to do."