Chasing Zara

5.

One of the other frat boys has been texting Steph constantly tonight, I feel sorry for the other guy she was swooning over just a couple of days ago. Clearly Steph's going to be occupied tonight. I'll just keep myself to myself.

We pulled up on the sidewalk across the road from the frat house at about 7:30pm. You could feel the deafening music vibrating through the road and in to Stephanie's little Fiat 500. Note to self, if Steph pisses you off, call her Stephanie, she hates it. Muahaha.

We unbuckle our seat belts, and hop out of the car. But of course Steph walks round to the passenger side to pull my crop top down to reveal a small amount of what little cleavage I have, no thank you. As we make our way to the gigantic white house, already littered with silly string and toilet paper, I am already regretting it. I could be curled up with a good Thomas Hardy novel, or Jane Austen, yeah, ooh or Charlotte Bronte-

"Z? Stop daydreaming about authors and get your ass in here!" Shouts Steph. She knows me so well.

I cautiously walk through the open double doors to were the real party is, and by god, this really is a party, huh. I grab Steph's hand as she leads us through a sea of hormonal, sexually active, drunk teenagers, and I can already feel eyes on me. Or Steph. I'm just feeling pretty paranoid. She continues to guide me through until we reach a really large room, the kitchen. There are red cups all over the kitchen island. Filled to the brim with god knows what. Steph leans down and starts mixing liquid. Luckily I know that Steph would never spike my drink with something she knew I couldn't handle, or force me in to something like drugs, that's why I love her.

She hands me the red cup and it smells strong, very strong.

"And this is?.." I ask quizzically, and quietly, almost with no noise coming out. Although the music is blaring extremely loud, I still feel like everyone is looking at me, and listening. That's why my anxiety get's the best of me at social occasions, (which I rarely go to), like this one. 

"Eh, just drink it, we are getting you druuuunk tonight!" She says so enthusiastically, as I raise my eyebrows in a "Nope" kind of way.

I have never been drunk, it's never been something I've had the opportunity, or the time to do. However the optimistic, and extremely excited look on her face is telling me to loosen up a bit. But nope. It's not my deal at all. I will find a corner, maybe a quiet room, read a book-

"Stephs here, woo!" Someone, presumably one of Stephs many older friends, shouts over towards Steph who is stood opposite me, downing drinks already. She snatches an excitable look in their direction, and gives me an approving look, and I nod. She toddles off in her high heels and jumps in to the arms of some girl, who doesn't look affected by the fact she is wearing a very revealing black dress, and what look like Louboutins. She must be the rich, Regina George, type girl on campus, so I avoid eye contact, and admire the floor.

I quickly examine the strong smelling liquor, before immediately pouring it down the sink. I shyly back away from the sink in the hope that nobody saw me being a 'priss' or 'backing out', but the thought of not having control of your body scares me. What if you walk in to a busy road? Or fall down a flight of stairs and have to go to hospital? It doesn't bare thinking about. 

Sometimes I think about what life would be like without worrying, but then I knew it would just be too careless, and I don't like the thought of that. I like being the sensible one, even if I don't like talking out loud much. 

I looked over my shoulder again to see a party animal that also happens to be my roommate. Steph was across the kitchen having shots of something, presumably vodka, so she was starting to get very drunk, very fast. The good think is, is that she is a lovey dovey drunk. First she's happy, and bubbly, then energetic, then when she gets really drunk, she tells you how much she loves you and blah, blah, blah.