❝I think you're my favorite person.❞
- - -
Since childhood, Lila's had her mind set on what she wants. And now in her senior year, that's getting into West Michigan State University. But her overbearing...
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*i would highly recommend reading the chapter before this. it's been a while*
— — —
WELL.
Parties still scare me.
My head bobs up and down to the beat of Metro Station's "Shake It".
Chase fills up a cup of lemonade for me, chatting with Blake as he does so.
He suddenly turns to me, our hands brushing as he hands me my lemonade.
I offer him a small smile and turn back to people watching. Everyone is either drunk at most, or buzzed at least, and they all sway to the beat of the music.
The song suddenly ends and a wave of disappointment fills me.
I wasn't technically even dancing, but sometimes music has the effect of letting you just have fun while existing.
Blake suddenly approaches me and gives me a small smile, "Having fun?"
I shrug, "I guess. Parties have never really been my thing."
He sighs. "Me too."
I eye him curiously, "But you're always here anyway."
He snorts. "Lucas forces me to come, and besides, free snacks."
I nod, that's not too bad of a reason. Not at all.
Blake turns to leave and I'm left standing awkwardly alone, while Chase uses the bathroom.
A little later, a guy comes up to me, clearly drunk off his ass, and places his hand on my arm.
"Lisa, right?" he slurs.
My nose wrinkles, "It's Lila," I say, peeling his hand off me.
He grins, "You're feisty."
Actually I was annoyed, though with guys like him they could hardly ever tell the difference.
I begin to open my mouth but another voice cuts in, "She's also taken. Move along, Peters."
I look over my shoulder at Chase, he places a protective arm over my shoulder and I fight a laugh the very serious expression on his face, one I should definitely not find as hot as I do.
The guy—Peters—grumbles under his breath and disappears onto the dance floor.
"I fucking hate that guy," he mutters.
"He's drunk," I inform him.
"He's an ass," he responds then looks at me. "What?"
I smirk, "Are you...jealous?"
He rolls his eyes, "Peters isn't even close to competition, Matthews."
We move closer to the dance floor and another song plays out, one I don't recognize.
