say yes. (dwayne hoover)

chapter four

TW: the r slur & fatphobia 

Question of the day: how the fuck was Dwayne going to get to this party without his family interrogating him?

He had spent all day internally panicking and preparing for tonight. He chose his clothes in the morning like some middle school girl choosing her outfit for picture day. It wasn't like he was wearing anything special, just a random pair of jeans and a graphic tee with a picture of Nietzsche dressed as Batman.

By the time he was getting ready to leave, his mother called out from the kitchen, "Dwayne! Dinner time!"

He blew a breath out and left his room, meeting his mom in the dining room where the rest of the family was gathering. "I'm not eating dinner here."

"What? What do you mean?" Sheryl asked with concern.

"I'm going to a party," he said, trying his best to act nonchalant.

"A party?" Richard asked. "Whose party? Since when do you go to parties?"

"Since I got invited to one."

Frank, of course, was the only one who caught on to what he was talking about. "Barista girl invited you to a party? That's awesome, Dwayne," he laughed. 

"Girl? What girl? You're talking to girls now?" Sheryl asked.

"Dwayne, do you have a girlfriend now?!" Olive asked excitedly.

"No! God, she's just a friend. It's not a big deal." 

Richard continued interrogating, "Is there going to be drinking at this party? How are you getting there?"

"I don't know. I'm walking."

"Okay, well...be safe, honey," Sheryl got up from the table and started messing with Dwayne's hair as he swatted her hand away. "And be home by twelve."

"Eleven," Richard intruded.

Sheryl shot him a glare and then looked back at Dwayne. "Twelve. And have fun."

Dwayne nodded and waved his goodbye, walking out of the house with a nervous grimace.

The party was at Jake Sunday's house. Dwayne had heard of him but never met him. He was a college kid that threw parties for high schoolers. Pretty pathetic. His house was huge and it was right behind Highland High.

Dwayne walked there on his usual route to school, scowling as he thought about his turmoiled memories of being at that place. He could tell where the party was from a mile away. There was tons of noise and chaos coming from the end of the cul-de-sac. The blasting  voices of Lil John and Dr. Dre shook the entire road.

When he got there, Dwayne sauntered into the front door with his head down, trying to avoid anyone he might know. He scanned the room to look for Ramona, but she was nowhere to be found. The place was packed. There were people in every crevice of the house. Making out, smoking weed, drinking.

He made his way around the room and ended up near the kitchen. He saw Jamie with some other girl, drinking shots off of a guy's abs. Hopefully, his presence was proof that Ramona was there somewhere.

As he was trying to make his way towards the back of the house, he ran headfirst into the back of a bulky guy wearing a smelly, red and white jersey. Fuck. Ian Paul. One of Dwayne's most intense torturers.

He turned around and grimaced when he noticed who it was. "Hoover? What the fuck are you doing here."

Dwayne rolled his eyes. "I was invited."