Dear Luke,
Remember when you would drag me to all the parties you wanted to go to? I would be in my room on a Friday night, reading a book or watching Netflix, and you would burst into my room telling me to get dressed. "I need you to help me get girls!" You would cry out. I would always laugh and shake my head, going back to my episode or book. You would have to physically drag me out of my warm, cozy bed and force me to get out of my penguin pajama pants and sports bra. You would wait for me to get somewhat presentable and drag me to your black convertible Mustang. I would always give you a pissed off look, but I enjoyed it when you took me anyway.
While at the parties, you would give me certain hand signals to tell me which girl you wanted to talk to. We literally stole the "Have you met Ted?" game from How I Met Your Mother. We did learn from the best, must I say. I would go to the girl, chat to her, and I would put my hand up to play with my hair to signal you over. You would come and I would introduce you two, then leave it be. I would walk away, looking back at you and the girl talking, smiling, laughing. I felt a pang of jealousy every time, but I pushed the foreign thoughts away.
When it was time to leave, you would be overly drunk and I would have to drive you back to my house and you would end up sleeping over. My parents didn't care, since you were my best friend. You would mumble drunk words over and over again as I would drive your car, and I sighed out in frustration. I had to help you get into my house and you fell asleep in my bed, you were always an annoying, cuddly drunk. I would take off your smelly shirt and tight ass pants and get you into bed. You would hold out your arms, waiting for me to cuddle. Once I laid next to you, you were fast asleep. It happened every time when we went to a party.
I miss when you used to take me to parties. I wish we could go hit up a party and get drunk again together.
Kisses,
Cassandra
