Bets, Beds and Treads || 18+

𝒊𝒊.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɪ
| ᴘ ᴀ ʀ ᴛ ʏ |
𝐑 𝐄 𝐈 𝐍 𝐀

𝗦𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗔 𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗘 wasn't known for throwing casual gatherings. The parties here were legendary, extravagant affairs that blurred the lines between teenage rebellion and something more sinister.

Yes, the gossip about Sia and Reign's drama were still floating around, but let's be real-they're not the center of this world. The real buzz cutting through the halls was about one thing: the party.

And tonight's bash? It was all on Ryder and he already knew how to throw a god one. His parents were out of town, and he'd been planning this blowout for weeks.

Oh, if you haven't met Ryder yet, let's say he's one of my ride or die. Not in that way.

We've been friends since we were in diapers and we have seen each other in our worst of the worst, so any hint of attraction? Hell no, that's just gross.

Of all the people I know, he's the one who gets me best just as well as I do him.

By the time we made it to the parking lot, Bianca and Marissa were already deep in conversation about it.

"You know it's going to be wild tonight. I always love parties at Ryder's." Bianca said, tugging her cigarette out of her mouth and flicking it onto the ground. "Everyone's coming, even the freaks from the drama club."

"Good," Marissa replied with a sly grin. "The more, the merrier."

As we reached my car, Bianca nudged me. "Still caught up on Reign?"

I opened the door, sliding into the driver's seat without answering right away. The guy was definitely stuck in my head, but not in the way I'd expected.

"Nope, I'll see what I feel like when I get there," I finally said, slipping on my sunglasses. "Right now, he's not worth obsessing over."

Marissa climbed into her car, ready to hit the road as she smiled, her excitement palpable. "Well, let's see how confident you feel after a couple of shots tonight."

"Please, Reina doesn't drink enough to care," Bianca teased sauntering over to her motorcycle, swinging her leg over the seat with ease. "I'll catch up with you both later. Just don't keep me waiting too long."

With a nod of agreement, I revved the engine. "We'll see."

As I drove off, I caught a glimpse of Bianca taking off on her motorcycle, the roar of the engine echoing in the air. The night was just beginning, and I could feel the adrenaline already building.

. . .

I stood in front of my closet, eyeing the different options.

That's when I spotted it: a really short black dress, simple but sleek, hanging in the back like it was waiting for the right moment. I rarely dressed like this; it wasn't my usual style. But maybe that was the point...

My style? Simple. If the pants are baggy, the top's gotta be tight. If the shirt's oversized, the pants/skirts better be fitted. Or I'll just go full baggy on both. Either way, something's always drowning in fabric and that's how I like it.

Don't fucking judge. I just fw anything big. (Note the innuendo)

It's not that I'm against dresses (because I do love dresses) but literally suffocating or feeling uncomfortable all the time? Not my scene. Because trust me, dresses can be fucking uncomfortable. And men's eye fucking doesn't help much on the uncomfortable list either.