Stella
The weekend's already here so soon. It doesn't feel like a week has already passed, today was just as boring as the others. It's almost nine, I'm in my fluffy kitten pajamas stuffed in my bed watching a movie along with enjoying a bowl of warm soup- just the way I like spending my weekends, when Maya texts me.
Maya and I have been hanging out a lot lately since we were assigned as partners for a project and we find each other's company nice. She's sweet and all, but a wild child unlike me. I, well, I'm far more upright than her, she wears short dresses and kisses a new guy every week. I on the other hand, I'm not the type to party till seven a.m. straight, I would rather stay in and do stuff I love doing, like painting or watching soaps and rom-coms.
Maya's message reads that she will be here in fifteen minutes and that there's a party at some Zayn's house and to be ready for it. I text her a long no, followed by a large number of O's with an exclamation mark.
No way! Is she kidding? I will be the last person anyone could imagine being at a party. Drinking and dancing is not my thing. I remember when I tried alcohol for the first time, a few years back from now, it tasted like literal garbage, like I just gulped a whole bottle of sanitizer mixed with nail polish remover and some bitter sauces. I swore from that day on to never ever touch alcohol again and besides what's the fun in getting wasted for no reason at all, only to deal headaches later.
She texts me back with a huge yes, followed by more S's than my O's and tells me to chill out and enjoy being legal with a beer emoji. Fine, I write her back. It's just one party, what would it hurt? I don't want to upset Maya when she is so excited for me to come along. I couldn't say no.
My phone vibrates, flashing a yay! and see you in five.
Oh no! panic strikes me straight in the gut. What am I going to wear? I tear the quilt off my body, jumping out of the bed and rush to my closet, fishing for something to wear. I never really thought I would go to a party and so I don't have any appropriate clothing to wear, execpt rows and endless rows of cardigans and casual pants. After littering the whole collection of clothes I own, I settle for the light lavender purple
dress I wore for the first day at UCLA.
"Shit!" I grasp at the chaotic muddle I have made out of all my ironed clothes. I will have to straighten this up as soon as I arrive back from the party. I hastily slip on a pair of simple flats and comb the mess out of my hair. I look like I just had an allergic to a disgusting egg smoothie and saw an alien while sipping on it. I curl my hair and am applying makeup, when my phone rings with a text from Maya which reads, I'm here.
Hurrying my way down the stairs since the elevator of my building was occupied, I seat myself opposite Maya in her small car. She looks wonderful in her blue sequence dress and makeup, whereas I look like a flickering dumb bulb.
"You look really gorgeous." I compliment her as she pulls the car on the road.
"Thank you." Her eyes rake down my body and she makes a puzzled expression. "You aren't wearing that, are you?...To a party? Wait. Are we going to church?" She laughs, I knew wearing the dress was a disaster. Though I don't like the way she made fun of me, it's not like I had much of a choice.
"Umm, I didn't have anything else to wear to a party. I wasn't prepared for it, so I wore what I had closest to a decent dress." I explain to her- all the fuss I went through before finally deciding to wear this and how my hair won't cooperate and I ended up looking like a tool.
"Hey! You look just fine. I was kidding. Don't degrade yourself, you still look beautiful and anyways nobody cares what you're wearing since they would be busy doing their own thing." I smile at her as an attempt to appreciate her for comforting me. The nerves tend to catch up on me and I'm grateful to have her around. There is nobody I would rather joins me for my first party other than her.
"Thanks."
"But I really do think we need a trip back to your closet." She huffs getting out of the car pulling me with her. We reach to the mess that are my clothes. After forever Maya finds a short hot pink body on dress with little straps and a cut at the thighs.
"No way I'm wearing that!" I practically screech. Showing so much skin is not my cup of tea.
"It's hot babe. It's final you're wearing this." I don't remember owning this dress but I agree it does look hot.
***
We finish with my makeover and I look like a total different person. Someone I'm not comfortable being but it feels nice. We slip in the car and sit in silence for another twenty-so minutes, until she pulls up in a hugely lit, modern, 4 floored mansion's massive heavily car-crowded parking lot. Oh my god, my heart stops at the vast stretch and stunningly beguiling and exquisite exterior of the house. Whoever owns this, sure must have enormous mountains of cash in their pocket and a great decorative taste.
Maya squeals and turns the ignition off, pulling the roof mirror down and gently patting her lipstick onto her lips with her two fingers.
"Now." She turns to face me, pushing the mirror up, "You are going to have the best time of your life and get drunk, kiss someone and just enjoy. Okay? Promise me you'll have fun and not be grumpy or lousy." Her tone is serious and commanding.
I nod at her, even though I won't do a thing she mentioned but just for her sake I reassure her that I will have fun and not overthink over anything.
The party is squeezed together and there is no space at all for me to sit, Maya disappeared as soon as we entered. It's been over 30 minutes without any sign of her anywhere, I search for her blonde head from over the crowd but all I get is pushed at. The music is roaring, splitting my aching head into two, the colorful lights are very blindly dim for me to see clearly through the room. I give up looking for Maya and begin my search to find a place to relax my hurting limbs.
Finally, I stumble across an empty sofa opposite another empty sofa in the middle of the living area, it's a contrast of beige and green with wine colored throw-pillows over them. The space in between seems to be left for a table, the carpeted floor is littered with cups and bottles and what not. I cringe as I scan the constantly wild movements around me, what the hell do they even get out of it besides a hangover and a headache?
I don't seem to notice before but I think I might actually be sitting in a reserved spot since everyone who passes me gives me a strange glare and the ten possible people looking for somewhere to rest cross me without even blinking an eye towards the sofa, as if it doesn't exist. Whosoever's spot this is, seems to have quite the tendency to intimidate and scare people off. I don't care if it's the owner or some punk goons that care so much for sofas but I am not one to budge or easily get scared like other cowards at the party. If my legs hurt, I will sit on the couch, no matter whoever claims it. Also it's just one of the hundred places to sit in this extravagant house, so why does anyone bother.
I check my phone for Maya's text, if I have received anything from her mentioning where she might be or what is she up to, other than a text saying enjoy and a wink emoji there is nothing. I huff shutting my phone off and battle inside my head if I should maybe actually consider enjoying college life and drink a little or should I just sit here and blankly stare at everyone with nothing more exciting to do? That is when I notice a few girls and boys step up on the bar at the other side of room and start stripping their clothes off, leaning into each other. The loud bass music is still stinging my ears and the colorful lights are giving me a headache.
Oh my god, I grasp. One of them is Maya. She is rubbing her hips against a boy's crotch, and has removed her dress, standing only in bra and panties. My eyes widen and my jaw is practically on the floor. Did I sign up for this when she meant party?
Already to my horror, a tap on my shoulder brings me to life from my shock's transcendence. I can feel movement next to me, the weight of the sofa is shifted by the person alongside me. "Hey beauti-" he stops halfway as I swing my head toward him.
Shit, its him. The mixture of horror and shock evident on his sculpted face as the realisation dawns on him of who he almost called beautiful. I can't stop the bubbles from boiling up and the familiar feeling of the pigeons returning. I haven't had the time to think of him this whole week, already having enough on my plate to add the burden of him consuming my thoughts. With all the work and Maya, I was too distracted. It's good that my obsession over him is almost non-existent but as I look into his eyes, something changes.
YOU ARE READING
Bloom
Romance"I hate you." I scream in his face, not realizing that he has me backed up against a wall, only inches away from me. "I hate you." I whisper again, my breathing heavier and my drained feeble body aching with desire. His proximity is killing me and...
