It's hard to feel liked when you know you aren't even welcome. I knew this all too well by the daggers being shot at me from a multitude of different spots throughout the room. If looks could kill my head would be served on a silver platter along the side of the Whiskey and Vodka. Definitely every girls dream right?
I don't blame anyone for staring at me like I'm the elephant in the room. I'm wearing a black Penn State sweatshirt, ripped and faded skinny jeans, and to top it off; my beat up converse that I've owned for too many years. They were perfect for me, and they were the only consistent thing I could look forward to anymore.
I felt so suffocated. The smoke drifted into my face constantly, the bitter smell of alcohol filled my nose, there was lights flashing everywhere, and don't even get me started on the sweaty and half dressed bodies that kept touching me. Add all of that together with the regular life of the party.
I sat down on the leather couch and buried my head in my hands. My headache seemed to be louder than the music, and the bile in the back of my throat didn't help either. It kept rising higher and higher, unlike my self-esteem steam which just kept on lowering and lowering. I needed an aspirin.
I can't believe this. Here I am the first day of college and I'm at a party that I got dragged to. No matter how reluctant I was, Lauren was better at taking not taking no for an answer. I swore to give up drinking, and I did somewhat well at doing that. It was currently at six days, three hours, and thirty-four minutes. Not that anyone was counting though.
I remained in that position which was a mistake. It was a very big mistake. An unfamiliar feeling of being burned was unmistakably lingering throughout my lower part of my neck. I snap my neck forward and look for the culprit. My hands involuntarily rub the burn wound, which just seemed like a small hole. It was clearly a hole that was imprinted by a cigarette nonetheless.
I search for a red cherry that was near me and boom there it is. The guy standing in front of me was clearly cocky and inconsiderate for the people around him. It was so clear by the way he held himself, and talked to everyone around him. Don't forget to mention the way he burnt my neck and neglecting to even acknowledge it and apologize.
I tapped his muscular shoulder, slightly afraid of what the outcome was going to be. He was way larger than I was. Maybe around 6'1, oh boy was he tall. What is a 5'2 scrawny girl like me going to do? It's very clear that intelligence gets you nowhere around here.
"Excuse me?" A rude voice interrupts my train of thought, and I'm not very appreciative of the tone that's being used against me. Of course it belongs to culprit of the hole that has pain searing throughout my neck. I scoff and get ready to put whoever it is in their place.
"Not sure if you noticed, but there's a hole in my fucking neck. Thanks to you and your inconsiderate actions. Why don't you watch where you fling those disgusting things next time?" I glare at him and point at the cancer stick that's between his calloused fingers.
"Wanna smoke babe? You're stressing me out." He laughs in chorus with his friends, and it infuriates me even further. They don't say 5'2 with an attitude for no reason.
"Are you fucking serious? You burnt my neck! Is everyone that goes here an inconsiderate asshole?" If it were possible, there would be two holes in his head from the look I'm currently giving him. He takes two steps toward my direction, towering over me sharing the same gaze I have.
"Are you aware of who you're you talking to?" I refuse to coward down, and take a step forward challenging him.
"No I don't, and I don't really care to either. I don't like to associate myself with people like you." He seems surprised that I snapped back in confidence. Trust me to bring the trouble anywhere I go.
