Contrast

7

*Blake*

After seeing Mucus' headlights peel out of the driveway, I quickly make my way back inside, tossing the unused cigarette over the railing. I feel goosebumps run up and down my arms, it's cold as shit out here.

Opening the door back to the party, I step in and am met with a blast of humid air and Noah's shitty taste in party music.

I squeeze through the crowd, scanning it of people until I successfully find the random dude I talked to a few minutes ago.

"Here are your cigarettes back, jackass," I sneer at him, dropping the pack in front of his feet.

He bends down to pick them up, looking me nervously in the face.

"Why did you even want them to begin with? Everyone knows you don't smoke," he questions me, genuine curiosity in his voice.

He is right, D1 athletes are known for a lot of things, and smoking isn't one of them. It isn't his concern though, it's nobodies.

For all she knows, maybe I do smoke.

I shrug and turn to walk away. "Don't worry about it."

As I maneuver through the crowd of dancing people, I make it to the kitchen which is slightly less packed. 

Running my fingers through my hair, I glance down at my phone to check the time. It's 1:30 am now, almost time for me to leave. I haven't had any more drinks since Elena and I took shots in the kitchen because I'm definitely not staying at Noah's house tonight. 

I might do a lot of shitty things, but driving drunk isn't one of them. 

Or driving at all for that matter– I consider my motorcycle biking, just a little faster.

Looking around the kitchen, my eyes fall to the bottle of vodka that Elena had been drinking from for the past couple of hours, it's practically empty now. The recent memory of actually having a somewhat normal conversation with her floods my mind. 

I shake my head to myself, trying to push it away.

I should've just kicked her out of the kitchen after she split my drink like the clumsy bitch she is.

After the game tonight ended, Noah practically begged me to be nicer to her tonight at the party. Maybe he knew that he and Olivia would end up ditching her to go make out and didn't want her to feel alone. 

Either way, I'm not doing him any more favors. She annoys the shit out of me and I will treat her how I want. 

For some reason though, I still can't quiet the nagging feeling in me that says maybe Noah's pleas to be nice didn't have anything to do with our interaction in the kitchen earlier. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but better than our usual ones.

Once she left the bathroom in anger after our fight, I was about to go and find Abby to finish what we started. 

When I walked out of the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of her long brown hair making its way to the back porch, figuring she must be saying goodbye to Noah and Olivia before leaving. I swear I saw tears build up in her eyes earlier. 

I didn't mean to make her cry.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was walking up to this idiot in the crowd that I recognized from campus, he always smokes outside the academic buildings.

I demanded his cigarettes.

At first, he said no. After getting a good look at my face, though, he knew it wasn't a negotiation. 

I made my way out the front door and leaned against the railing to the side of the house with the cigarette between my fingers. As the night air painfully attacked my skin, I almost just said fuck it and considered going back into the house.