Mistake

Chapter 3

The next night, as the party approached, I decided to switch things up. I pulled out a black tank top and slipped it on. The simplicity of the tank top, combined with the leather jacket from earlier in the week, gave me a look that felt both effortless and edgy.

Standing in front of the mirror, I took in the reflection. The tank top’s sleekness contrasted sharply with the jacket’s ruggedness, creating an image that felt like a perfect blend of my old self and this new, more confident version of me. It was a look that said I was ready for whatever the night would throw at me, yet still grounded in who I was.

The night air was cool as I headed out, the streetlights casting a soft glow on the sleek black of the tank top and the jacket’s leather. I made my way to where John was waiting. When he saw me, he raised an eyebrow, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Nice choice. You’re definitely rocking it tonight.”

Feeling surprisingly at ease, I climbed into the Impala. The drive to the party was smooth, the hum of the engine blending with the rhythmic beat of the music playing through the speakers. Even with the uncertainty about the night ahead, I felt ready to face whatever came next.

John’s excitement was palpable as we pulled up to the party. The house was lit up with string lights and a small crowd had already gathered. The sounds of laughter and music spilled out into the street, creating an inviting atmosphere that contrasted with the nervous flutter in my stomach.

John gave me a reassuring nod as we approached the front door. “Let’s do this,” he said, his confidence contagious.

I took a deep breath and followed him inside. The party was in full swing, with people dancing, chatting, and enjoying themselves. The energy was infectious, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with my lingering doubts.

As I stepped into the kitchen, the buzz of the party faded into the background, replaced by the clinking of bottles and muffled conversation. The room was dimly lit, with a few stray lights casting shadows on the walls. There, by the counter, stood Elsa, sipping from a bottle of Jack Daniels. She looked relaxed, her eyes scanning the room as if she were in her element.

For a moment, I hesitated in the doorway, unsure whether to approach or hang back. But the confidence I’d been trying to embrace nudged me forward. I took a deep breath and walked over.

“Hey, Elsa,” I said, trying to sound casual despite the pounding in my chest.

She turned to me with a smile, her eyes brightening. “Hey, Hiccup. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same about you,” I replied, glancing at the bottle in her hand. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” she said, offering me the bottle. “Help yourself.”

I took a cautious sip, the whiskey’s warmth spreading through me. The sharpness was familiar but still made me wince. Elsa watched me with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Not your first choice of drink?” she teased.

“Not usually,” I admitted, taking another sip to steady myself. “But I figured why not?”

We chatted for a while, the conversation flowing easier than I’d expected. I found myself relaxing, laughing more than I had all week. As the night wore on, the room grew hotter and louder, the energy around us only increasing.

Eventually, Elsa suggested a drink-off. “How about we see who can handle more of this?” she said, holding up the bottle with a playful grin.

“Game on,” I replied, feeling a rush of competitive energy.