"Really?" I huffed, mildly irritated with my father for ruining what I thought was going to be a peaceful night in.
"Come on, you're just being dramatic. They're not THAT bad" he replied.
Not that bad? I thought, not wanting to share that information with him aloud when he had clearly made up his mind.
"I guess I'll just go and hide in my room before they get here" I said sulkingly.
And with that I made the trek up the stairs and to my room, feeling bugged by the fact that I couldn't even feel comfortable around my own dad's friends that he had invited over. It's not that I didn't like the guys, it's just...when you're planning on having a quiet night in, these are so not the guys to be around. Since we had moved from New York to California 7 years ago, whenever these certain friends visited it was always an extremely loud reunion. There's just something about a group of New Yorkers being in the same room together, it always seems to become a match of 'who can yell the loudest'.
As I entered my bedroom, I could hear the commotion coming from the floor below which let me know that the guys had arrived. It's going to be a long night.. I thought to myself.
A couple of hours and netlfix episodes later, the noise didn't seem to be dying down at all. Laying there in my bed and at my wits end, I was about to sandwich my head between my pillows to try and drown some of the noise out.
Looking at the clock on my nightstand it only read 11:15pm. This is what my life had come to. Hiding in my room at my parents house like some kind of hermit at 21 years old.
Screw it. Admitting defeat, I flipped my blanket off of my body and made my way out of my room. Sure, I protested about being around these people earlier but I wasn't going to have much luck trying to sleep with this racket, so I might as well go and see if all of the noise was exciting as they made it out to be.
I entered the sitting room, to be greeted by my dad and four other faces. Familiar ones at that. The same usual culprips that spend most of their days with my father howling with laughter like young teenage boys.
"Oh hey, Jess!" One of the guys yelled out over the music that was playing in the background.
"Hey" I awkwardly smiled and waved, a little uncomfortable at how many eyes were on me at one time. It's not that I was a self conscious person lacking confidence at all, it was just when several intoxicated people are looking at you at one time, it's enough to make you feel a little uncomfortable.
They accepted my awkward greeting and continued with their conversation between themselves as I headed to the adjoining kitchen.
Pouring myself a drink, I heard someone enter the kitchen door.
"Do you know where I can get one of those?" A familiar voice from behind me asked. I turned around, coming face to face with a guy I had known for many years yet barely recognized.
"You mean those things called a cup, Q?" I joked.
Unknowingly not being able to take my eyes off of him.
"Do I have something on my face?" He questioned, touching his face, genuinely thinking that there was something on it.
Oh crap. He must have noticed me staring.
"Oh, no, god, sorry" I said shaking my head to flush the daydream that I was in away. "Nothing on your face, I promise. It was just..you look different, I was just taking it in I guess?"
Smooth save, moron. But he did look different. And a good different at that. I hadn't seen the guy in 3 years, and the last time I had seen him, his hair was short and his face was cleanly shaven. Much, much different to the guy that was standing in front of me at this very moment with long thick shaggy hair, accompanied with a backwards Yankees baseball cap along with a beard. He had seriously gotten hot.
"That scary to get used to, huh?" He replied sarcastically with a slight side grin.
"Nooo, not at all. You look ho..good. Nice, you look nice".
Nice way at playing it cool, Jess. It's not that I can let one of my dads closest friends know that I was just swooning over how hot I now found him. Besides, he was probably used to it. Young girls now wanting a piece of him because he was this big "TV star" now. I've heard how he's had the reputation of the ladies man of the group.
"So cups. You need a cup." I said as I reached into the cupboard, retreieving a glass and passing it to him.
"Thanks" he replied smiling, soon turning to head back into the room full of soon to be extremely drunk guys, until he got to the doorway and stopped, turning back around to face me.
"For the record, you don't look so bad yourself" he said with a smirk, clearly reeling in the compliment I had paid him earlier. And with that he winked and left the room.
Did he just hit on me?
