The Buddy System Fail

1. Going To The Bad Boy's Party Was Never A Good Idea

1. Going To The Bad Boy's Party Was Never A Good Idea.

This really sucked.

Once again I was letting my BFF (Best Friend Forever, duh), Callie, drag me to another stupid party that I didn't even want to go to. Because she claimed that I needed 'a break', in my eyes being dragged to a party that the schools biggest player/notorious bad boy was throwing did not count as a break. More like torture.

"Stop being a lemon" Callie snapped as she straightened out her skimpy outfit, I wondered how she'd feel later that evening after the parties over and she has to venture home with barely any material to keep her warm. You see, that is why I am not dressed up. That and the fact that I really don't wanna go.

"A lemon?" I laughed "why a lemon?"

"Because lemons are sour and that's how you're acting right now. Lighten up, we're going to a party for Christ sakes and it's a party thrown by Daniel Ryder too! Do you know how rare they are?" she stressed. Apparently Ryder's parties were increasingly rare. But did I care about this? No. Not one freaking bit.

Ryder was a disgusting man-whore, who couldn't keep his hands to himself. I bet he threw this party just to get into some poor tramps panties.

I sighed, falling back onto Callie's incredibly comfy water bed. "Then you go. I'll stay here and... Watch some Disney movies or something?" I tried reasoning, I knew it was no use but what the heck might as well try, right?

"Nope, nuhuh, you're not missing out on being a teenager anymore. Your parents have already taken enough of those years away, especially your mom with her 'problems', you're almost 18, T, you need to live it up before it's over" I cringed at Callie's lecture. 'Problems', yeah, that was a nice, neat thing to say instead of what it really was, alcoholism.

Yes, that's right, my dear mother was an alcoholic, it was my father's fault. All of this was his fault. He cheated on her. He broke her heart and now she couldn't get through the day without a bottle in her hands. And the sad thing is, no matter how much he hurt her, she kept begging him to come back.

I made a vow to myself, a few years back, never to become someone like her. I will never depend on someone so much that my life would completely shatter around me if they left.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling the mention of my mother had given me I argued back "I'm perfectly fine the way I am. I like being a introvert. Socializing and being friendly is your thing, Cal, not mine. I'd rather be reading a book right now".

"You see, that, right there, is why you need to get out more. What teenager in their right mind would rather stay at home and read a book instead of going out to a party and getting laid?"

"A sensible one" I murmured back, I always had to have the last word in a fight and I almost always did.

Callie spun round to face me her back to the full length mirror she was previously facing. "Whatcha think?" she asked, gesturing to her outfit. Slutty. Skimpy. Whorish.

"You want the truth or a lie?"

Callie looked up to the sky and tapped her chin mocking deep thought. "I think I'll go with the lie this time" she said.

"Okay, it's looks perfect" I lied. She was wearing a tight, sparkly dress that barely covered her thighs. It would have actually been nice, had she been wearing leggings or even tights but no her legs were bare and I'm pretty sure if she bent over you could see her panties.

Despite our complete different style in clothing and personalities, I still loved her. Callie was a cheerleader, born and bread part of the bitch parade (a.k.a Dalton High school's cheerleading squad) while I belonged more to the emo part of the school population but despite all high school clichés we just seemed to click.