The Party Scene (Gen. 5)

Rhen

"Anyway, while that other chick was getting drunk off her arse, I kind of eased onto her friend, you know?" bragged Elliott, running a hand through his auburn hair. The two of us, plus Skyler and Colin were on the school green, passing a spliff around.

"So, are you telling me that you threw a party just so a girl would notice you, but instead, you shagged her friend?" questioned Skyler, bringing the spliff to his lips, and inhaling.

"Yeah, he pretty much did," piped up Colin, who was typing quickly and staring at his phone screen.

"Well, if you want to put it like that," returned Elliott, winking at me.

"Hey guys," greeted a feminine voice. Emma sat down in the grass, and tossed some of her golden blonde hair over her shoulder. Colin grabbed his backpack, and unzipped it quickly, digging into it.

"Colin, what are you doing?" asked Skyler, looking intently at him.

"I need to find some paper so I can copy Rory's sociology notes," explained Colin, lifting his head for a second.

"You realize that you never study, right?" questioned Skyler, raising an eyebrow.

"And that if you fake your dad's voice and tell them you're sick on a test day, you'll be exempt from the test," offered Elliott, who had the spliff in his fingers, and inhaled deeply. He leaned over to Emma, and exhaled in her face, as she hit him in the back of the head.

"Fucking prick. Do you want me to get high before class?" argued Emma, coughing into her elbow, while Elliott had a satisfied smirk.

"Eh, I'll take you higher than a kite ever could," replied Elliott flirtatiously. Emma cringed, and moved away from him.

"What? I've got to practice my lines somewhere," returned Elliott, shrugging.

"Whatever. Anyway, I'm so confused," began Skyler, as he laid on the grass, and stared at the sky.

"That's nice. I think class starts now," I interrupted, watching as students filed into the entrance.

"Shit, I've got to go back to Aquinas," complained Emma, standing up, and walking in the opposite direction of me.

"Yo, Rhen. You all right?" asked Skyler, opening his locker, while I gave mine a final kick.

"Yeah, totally," I answered, running my fingers through my hair nervously. I grabbed my notebook and found a pencil on the floor. Skyler closed his locker, and the two of us ran to class, narrowly missing morning bell.

"Guys, she's crying again," hissed Elliott, nudging me in the ribs. Mrs. Branton sat at her desk, sobbing quietly in the nearly silent classroom.

"Well, let her," replied Skyler, tapping his pencil rhythmically on the desk.

"Why?"

"That's probably the safest way for her to let out her emotions while none of our coursework suffers," explained Skyler, who seemed indifferent to the whole ordeal.

"Fuck, Sky. Can't you ever show emotion? I swear, you've always got that monotonous look on your face," I ranted, as Skyler rolled his eyes.

"Mate, I'm just telling you the cold, hard facts. Just let Branton cry out her feelings or whatever, and you'd stop yourself from getting into deep, unwarranted shit," answered Skyler, opening up his book.

"Skyler, I thought you scored last night," bugged Elliott, who was about to burst into laughter. I turned my attention to Skyler, who looked horrid. His face was pale, while his eyes were rimmed red.

"Elliott, not every goddamned thing is about scoring or shagging," said Skyler, bringing his gaze to meet Elliott's.

"I never said that. I just thought you and Talia fucked. No biggie."

"Er, class? I've decided you can take another free period today. Just remember to study for your test on emotions next week," said Ms. Branton, blowing her nose into a handkerchief and dabbing at her teary eyes.

"Whoa, I feel bad for Mrs. Branton. She's been like this for a while," stated Rory, breaking the awkward silence at our table.

"I know. I mean, once you've shagged a sports education teacher with a porn mustache, you can't go back to those little bare faced fuckers," I offered, as Ms. Branton, sniffled in the background. She stood up, and picked up a stack of papers from her desk.

"Need some help with that, Ms. Branton?" I piped up, as she looked at me.

"Sure," she answered, as I leapt from my seat, and grabbed most of the papers. We walked towards the door, side by side, and I opened the door for her.

"Rhen, this very nice of you, but shouldn't you be studying for your test?" asked Ms. Branton, her watery blue eyes meeting mine.

"Come on, Emily. I don't need to study," I assured, as she nodded. Suddenly, her phone began buzzing on her short stack of papers, and I set my stack on the floor, and grabbed her phone. I pressed the accept button, and held the phone to my ear.

"Emily, just take me back for fuck's sake. You can't get any better than Doug Carson," slurred a drunk Coach Carson through the speaker.

"Doug, I think it's better for everyone if you just took your pornstache and went back to the locker rooms," I retorted, as Ms. Branton stretched her eyes.

"Shut up, you little posh bastard. What I say to my ex-wife is none of your concern," snarled Coach Carson.

"Yeah, it is my concern. If you keep harassing her, just keep this in mind. My dad's a lawyer, and I-I'll tell him to represent her in a lawsuit against your arse!" I exclaimed, ending the call. Ms. Branton's eyes were popping out of her head, as I handed her phone back.

"No problem, Emily. No problem," I said, setting the stack down on the hallway floor.

"Shit," mumbled Elliott, as he attempted to reach into the pill bottle's tiny opening.

"Elliott, let me do it," I said, as he slid the bottle across the counter to me. I shoved two of my fingers down the hole, but I couldn't get a grasp on one of the tiny pills. I pulled my fingers out, and gripped the pill bottle by my teeth. One by one, a few pills fell into my mouth, and Skyler slid me a cup full of beer to wash it down.

"Tasty," I remarked, after taking a gulp of my drink.

"Yeah, I know. Male enhancement pills have this special zing to them," returned Elliott, his bright eyes popping.

"Dude, the last thing I need is a stiff when dancing with some girl!" I argued, as he continued laughing.

"Whatever. I've got girls to chat up," excused Elliott, getting up from the bar stool, and making his way to the dance floor. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ms. Branton, sipping on a drink with some of her friends.

"Hey!" I called out to a bartender, who turned his focus on me. He walked towards me from behind the counter, and rested his elbows on the counter.

"What can I get for you?"

"See the chick with blonde hair wearing the green dress?" I asked, as he looked around then nodded at me.

"Give her the drink of her choice. My tab," I answered, sliding him twenty quid.