I Almost Killed My Crush's Mom

BONUS CHAPTER

BONUS CHAPTER (16)- dedicated to the amazing Percabeth5599 for winning the graphics competition :) Hope you enjoy, lovely!

(Basically the chapter that Heather and Everett go home from the party together)

♞EVERETT POV♞

If there's one thing I love in the world, it's parties.

I'm not quite sure what it is about them; I just can't resist a late night out. Parties have alcohol (most importantly), and with that comes girls dressing up to look their best, drinking games, loud music and unruly neighbours. Not to mention the funny drunks that I can laugh at, at their expense. Really, what isn't to love? For some reason, however, I'm not having quite as much of a blast at this party as I am at any other. At first glance, everything seems the same to any other party. The music is loud, people are drinking, and girls are dancing on table tops and taking body shots. I feel like there's something missing though. Something isn't right, and I don't want to think about what it could be.

Maybe I just need to start drinking. The churn in my stomach will disappear, right?

"Hey, pass me that shot will you?" I turn to Will Lavish: my friend whose party this is. Will is a bit of a creep if I'm honest, and he tries way too hard to get girls attention, but I have no issue with him and I don't see a reason to create one. His intentions are mild enough, and he throws a pretty good party, I must admit. Will is currently holding onto Rita's waist, slurring his words and looking like he's enjoying life very much. "Will?" I ask again, after receiving no response, my eyes narrowing.

"Shhh," Will puts his fingers to his lips, and shoves the shot glass in my hand. I take a sniff and my nostrils burn. Whisky. Will, with widened hazel eyes, rocks back and forth on his heels and giggles infuriatingly. "Be quiet, Everett, take in the atmosphere of the party." He swings his hand out to the scene in front of us, wobbling on his feet. Will Lavish is completely and utterly wasted.

"Whatever dude," I roll my eyes, turning away from my drunk friend and following his hand to view the party scene in front of us. I'm sat on a mound at the back of the yard currently, with Jesse, Ben and a few other of my friends. I haven't had a sip of alcohol so far, which is totally unlike me, and as much as I hate to admit it- I think my little argument with Heather had a larger toll on me than I thought. I survey Will's yard, watching people dance and stumble around, vodka bottles being passed from person to person, and girls dancing on table tops- knocking plastic cups to the floor. The one person I want to see isn't here, and maybe that's what this party is missing. Her.

Heather is without a doubt, angry at me. She ditched my lift to the party to give Lois a lift instead, and part of me wants to message Lois to see if they're on their way yet. Why she's angry? Well, I guess I was a jerk. I told her that I wasn't prepared for a relationship yet, and after we've made out a few times behind Lois' back, it was probably expected that she completely blew up on me. If I'm honest, she was right to. After all, she's lying to her best friend about having feelings for me, and I just told her that we weren't even official. I should find her, apologise. The truth is, I like her. More than I care to admit, but I am Everett Reynolds. I don't do relationships...I've never had one before.

I glance down at my shot glass, which I still haven't emptied. This is my life. Parties, and alcohol, and playing girls. I can't be the boy she needs me to be, as much as I like her. She can do better.

Just as I raise the shot glass to my lips, I spot her in the crowd. She's dancing, stumbling. Her blonde hair shines like a beacon, despite all the other tipsy blondes here. I guess she's been here a while if she's already drunk. I frown down at the whisky, debating over whether to go and speak to her or not. Will she be rational if she's drunk? She'll probably just scream at me. She looks nice. Her hair is done up into a fancy bun thing, and her dress is tight. There's no doubt about it- my girl is gorgeous. Apart from, she's not my girl. I scared her off. I should go and speak to her. Without hesitation, I stand up from the grassy mound and chuck my shot glass to the side as I head down to approach Heather. What I'll say, I don't know. Spontaneity is sexy though, right?