High

Chapter Three-Drunk conversations

"So first things first," Zoe started off holding onto my arm as she spoke with authority, "There's a certain type of dudes that you need to avoid at all costs."

After we swiftly pushed drunk people out of the way.  Seemingly knowing the layout of the house pretty well. Zoe had taken me to a bathroom.

I nodded dismissively, slowly prying Zoe's manicured nails from my forearm, "I know about the do's and don't's parties. I've researched, remember?"

Zoe rolled her eyes at me, already annoyed by the fact that I was bringing up my research to back up my lack of real-life experience.

"Ellie. I get it, OK? But you can do all the research you want in the world, but nothing tops real-life experience. You can't just be book smart."

"You gotta be street smart." I spoke Zoe's mantra with her like she always did when I brought  up my long papers of research articles to back up my lack of experience in anything that had to do with real life.

What? I can't help it. I'm a theory girl.

"And yet, " Zoe shook her head in playful disappointment, "My motto still hasn't rubbed off on you."

"That's why you brought me here, right? So I can have an actual real-life human experience?"

Zoe grinned at me, her pearly whites showing which was such a huge contrast from the p*ss yellow colored bathroom tile as Zoe called it.

"Not really," She admitted truthfully, "But when you put it like that. You make me sound like a better friend."

"Now let me school on the art of college partying." Zoe gleamed at me.

****

I lost Zoe. In just under an hour of coming together to this party that I distinctly remember not wanting to go to. I lost Zoe.

Or better yet, she lost me.

I silently cursed as someone's heels pressed into  the toe cap of my sneaker. I politely pushed the girl away from me as I looked for the bar. Or the kitchen at the very least.

Or maybe the bar was the kitchen or the kitchen is the bar...

Either way, I was in search of one. 

I puffed up my cheeks in annoyance at my stupidity. I can not believe that I let myself go to a house party without knowing the layout first.

Cause if I did, if I had a map, I'd know where the fricking kitchen was.

I was hoping that finding the kitchen meant that I was going to find Zoe.

I kept pushing against the throngs of people who desperately needed a guide on personal space and, better yet, boundaries until I found my way to the kitchen.

I let out a sigh of relief. Looking around, I could only see people who were getting drinks. People sharing saliva and a tad bit of their DNA were sat upon the kitchen benches.

To my left, I saw people drunkenly pouring their hearts out to others. And last but not least, people dry humping each other while being pushed against the counters.

Seriously, how big is this kitchen?!

I squinted my eyes in hopeless search for the curly black haired crazy party obsessed girl who I had come to know as my friend.

My eyes skimmed once more through the throngs of people that I had no interest in getting to know at all.

My eyes skimmed desperately for my friend as thoughts of her possibly leaving me for some rendezvous with a mysterious flooded my mind. Which didn't help but make me feel a tad more anxious than I already was ever since I had lost Zoe an hour ago.