Games

13

The loud dance music currently blaring its way into my eardrums was deafeningly loud, but after being in the club for almost an hour or so I had gotten used to it. What I hadn't gotten used to, however, was the excess of bodies jumping and bumping into me. Every so often I got a dirty look, but I guess that's what I deserved for standing in the middle of a rave like a fucking idiot.

Why I even let Oliver take me to one of these was beyond me, even though I knew it was because he gave me that puppy dog look - the one where he held my hands and stuck his bottom lip out, batting his eyelashes like a girl and fuck, it was too cute to handle, okay? - and I couldn't say no to it.

I had expected it to be like this, but I didn't expect Oliver to keep leaving me like he was doing. He'd spend maybe three minutes by me before getting bored with my constant refusals to dance with him, and then he would make his way back into the crowd. Oliver couldn't dance, at all, so I knew he was just messing around and having a good time being completely unserious, but the thought of dancing at a rave was weird to me.

So I watched Oliver from the wall of the club jump along to the beat, messy hair bouncing atop his head, and I smiled at how happy he looked as he stared at the DJ on stage. Maybe I was a bit jealous that I wasn't the one out there dancing with him and making him happy, but that was my fault. Besides, I said maybe.

"You gotta spliff mate?" A voice in my ear suddenly spoke, startling me to the point where my folded arms unfolded themselves and one hand found its way to my chest. I grasped my shirt and took a deep breath, looking at the male next to me, with short blonde hair and a baby face. He wasn't any older than 15; at least I wasn't the youngest one here. However, I had no idea how the hell he got in with a fake ID and that face.

"No, sorry," I said over the music, smiling sympathetically at his disappointed look.

"Thanks anyways," he said, pushing past me and moving on to the next person to ask the same question. Curiosity overtook me and I watched him go from person to person, the third finally pulling out a spliff from their jacket pocket and handing it to the boy, who tipped his head in cheers in return.

When I looked back up, jealously consumed me completely; I found Oliver almost immediately, his hands around some girl's waist, her bum to his crotch and her body pressed flat against his as they danced quite slutty on each other. Oliver's hands lingered on her sides that he held onto as their hips swayed. I knew Oliver was 100% gay; we'd had plenty of conversations about girls and how we found out we didn't like them, so I knew he wasn't finding this little cunt attractive at all, but I couldn't help but become angry and envious. That should be my hips his holding. Fuck that.

Furious, I pushed myself away from the wall and stormed my way back into the crowd, shoving past people until I reached Oliver. He looked up at me and smiled, acting as if what he was doing wasn't wrong. We weren't together, but he seemed to have forgotten the fact that, in his words, I was "his". Apparently I'd just have to remind him, right?

"Excuse me," I said in a sickening, sarcasticly sweet voice, pushing my arms between them and basically shoving the girl off him. She readjusted her shirt and sent an annoyed cast my way, to which I responded with a smile and roll of my eyes. Turning back to Oliver, I shot him a dirty look, grabbing his hand angrily and tugging him out of the crowd.

"What are you doing?" He called in my ear. I ignored him, focusing on just getting him out of there and back into Max's car, that of which he'd let us borrow for the night.

Once we got out of the club, Oliver began walking faster so that instead of being behind me, we were now walking side by side.

"Josh- what's wrong? Where are we going?"