"I'd just like to inform you that I do not give a shit about what you want."
He rolls his eyes and turns to me. "I'd just like to inform you that you're a pain in the ass."
"Aw. You're too kind."
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Valentina Laskaris never expected much f...
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♫ Valentina ♫
BY NOW, MOST people are either drunk, asleep or playing drinking games to get even more drunk.
I've barely had anything to drink, and for once, I'm not enticed to.
I don't know if it's because of all the new emotions all the gifts elicited out of me, or because of the same heated stare that has pinned me in my place for the last hour, but drinking is the last thing on my mind.
It's obviously the complete opposite for everyone else. Everywhere around me, there's scattered shot glasses, solo cups, random bottles of alcohol brands I can't pronounce and colours so fake my mind reels with how many unsafe chemicals are in them to make it look like it does.
I never give a shit about what's in a drink, I just drink it and hope I wake up the next day. But I guess my mind really wants me to stay sober because all of a sudden, I give a shit.
The music doesn't stop and It's so loud I'm sure campus security is going to get called, people passing me wish me happy birthday, drop a few bills on my lap with a wink or rip their shirt open as a 'gift'.
I only say that because one dude came up to me, ripped his shirt open in front of me and on his chest was 'gift' written in Sharpie. After him, a multitude of dudes ripped their shirts open in front of me one at a time, but no others had writing on them.
Atticus even showed up. I had barely seen him since the accident, mainly because he sulked every time he saw me or started rubbing at the faded scar on his forearm when we locked eyes.
It's no different tonight.
I've caught his eye twice and both times, he rubbed at his knee where he got scratched and glared at me like I forcefully held it down and scraped his arm and knee against the floor.
He's nothing but a dramatic, immature, basically prepubescent boy.
And I also caught sight of Ian, the fucker that Luca got into a fight with, but the second he and Luca met eyes, he left. I almost choked on my drink when I saw the fear in Ian's face.
Miles has stayed planted next to my side while Oliver ended up standing on the pool table and doing a strip tease dedicated to me to 'SexyBack' by Justin Timberlake. Charlotte dozed off on Dallas again, Kaya watched as she did so in disgust, Finnick sat on the couch next to mine drawing as per usual and Mac showed off his collection of lighters, which obviously is not at all concerning for a pyromaniac to own.
I, on the other hand, have been sifting through my gifts and trying to get my mind off the man who still hasn't taken his eyes off me.
After how I've been acting, it was stupid of me to expect anything from him and the more time that passes, the more stupid I seem for even thinking he would give me one.
It's selfish and fucking stupid, and there's no one to blame but me.
I'm so caught up in the chaos in my mind that I don't even notice when Miles leaves my side on the couch and I'm left on my own.
