Hurt

Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

"There's going to be a party tonight at my house, do you want to come?" Darla asked me as we walked out of the car. I had thought about it for a second and ultimately decided that I wanted to go. Darla didn't really seem like the "popular type," or whatever that meant. There probably wouldn't be more than ten people there. I would have a couple drinks, forget about Zayn for a while. "Uh, sure," I said. I closed my car door. 

"Well, I better get going and start setting up!" Darla said, hopping into ther car. 

"What time should I come at?" I asked her before she was fully enclosed in the safety of her car. 

"Come at, like, 8," she said. I nodded and watched her pull out of my driveway and into the road.

I ran inside and jumped on my bed, feeling free for once in my life. I didn't have a boyfriend- why should I be sad about this? Why should I be mourning the fact that I didn't have to act or dress a certain way to please a stupid boy? 

I slid off the bed and onto my gray carpet, opening my drawer and looking for a shirt and a pair of jeans to wear for tonight. I dug through the clothes until I found a familiar plaid shirt that I knew for a fact wasn't mine. I held it up to me in the mirror and smiled. It was Zayn's shirt, a shirt that I would wear when I was sick or sad or when he wouldn't be here for whatever reason. I shouldn't even consider wearing it, but I felt like I needed a small piece of him with me. 

I straightened my dark hair and put it back in a ponytail. I didn't put on much makeup, since it was only Darla's house I was going to. I put on a pair of skinny jeans and a pair of black Vans and jumped into my car.

There were more people at Darla's house than I thought. People sat on her lawn and on her steps, either sipping from a can of beer or a red cup full of vodka. Her house was full of people and the stairs were crowded with college students and even a couple of adults that weren't very familiar to me. I spotted Darla in the crowd, wearing a bright pink tank top and a black pencil skirt. What was she wearing? Was this her alter-ego? I usually saw her wearing her trusty Pink sweatshirt and a pair of light-wash skinny jeans. 

"Bella!" Darla yelled, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the kitchen. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Uh, well, I told you I was coming," I said, confusedly. 

"I know, but, I wasn't sure if you would actually come or not!" she said. "Vodka?"

I hesitantly took the red cup from her fragile hand and sniffed it. I think it would be safer if I just had a can of beer. "No, a can," I said. She shrugged her shoulders and handed me a can from the table. I opened it and took a long sip. When I released, I couldn't find Darla. I guess that was my signal to start talking to people. That was probably her whole plan- to bring me here and make me meet new people, almost like I had no choice. She was smarter than I thought. 

I backed up into someone with strong shoulders and a hard back. I turned around and saw a tall boy, about my age, with dark brown eyes and short blonde hair. Brown eyes were my weakness. Most girls preferred boys with green or hazel or specifically blue eyes, but I was always the brown-eyed type. 

"Hi," I said, taking another sip of my beer. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," he said to me, mimicking my drinking pose and giving me a raised eyebrow. I realized I was raising my eyebrow, too. I giggled and he outstretched his arm. "I'm Peter. Nice to meet you." I shook his hand and smiled.

"I'm Bella," I said. I went to take another sip out of my beer but I realized that it was empty. I motioned towards the table. "Want to get another can with me?" I asked. Peter nodded and smiled, following me over to the case of unopened cans. I handed him one and we threw out our old ones, the trash overflowing profusely and some cans already on the floor. Red cups were crushed and on the white tile counter, and I could hear music pumping from the other room.

"Where are you from?" Peter asked me as we sat outside on the steps. 

"I'm from here. I've lived here all my life," I told him, fingering the split end I found while playing with my hair. I broke it off and it fell to the step. "My parents are from Romania, and I was bron there. I moved here when I was only three months old. We moved here so my dad could get a better job."

"Well, you're not going to find much here," Peter said, taking a long swig from his can. He smacked his lips when he pulled the beer from his lips, licking them and looking back inside. "I'm from Italy. I moved here when I was ten."

I nodded. I looked down at my fading Vans and played with the laces. I looked over at Peter and realized that he was staring at me. I immediately blushed and took down my ponytail so my hair would cover my face. Peter swept it behind my back before I could completely hide from him. "You're very beautiful," he told me. 

I heard someone whistle from inside the house. It was probably Darla. She told me she was good at whistling. Now I believed her.

"Excuse me, everyone!" she yelled, clapping her hands. The whole house went quiet and Darla had their attention. I was impressed. "At every one of my parties, we play a game of truth or dare." I heard a cheer from the crowd. Really? Truth of dare? I remember playing that in my seventh year and being dared to kiss some boy named Greg. I refused, but he pulled me towards him and I ended up kissing him, anyways. I played a lot in high school and I couldn't remember if it got me into a lot of trouble or not. I just remember not being too happy while playing it.

I had the sudden urge to go home. "You coming?" I heard Peter say as I was heading towards my car, gripping my keys in my hand. 

"Uh, I don't know..." I said. "I don't really have fond memories of truth or dare..."

It seemed like a kid's game to me, to be honest. But Peter convinced me into playing it. I responded with a quick "fine" and walked through the door frame and onto the couch. I sat in front of Darla, which was a mistake, because she told me that I had to go first. 

"Truth," I said immediately.

"No Bella," Darla said with a sly smile. "We have a rule here- the first player always picks dare." Why was I even here? I should've been in my flat reading a book. I should've been listening to Frank Ocean. I should've been-

 "So? Dare it is?"

"Yeah. I guess I have no choice," I said, looking at all the staring people around me. Peter was one of them.

I saw Darla run into her kitchen and pull out something from a tiny bag. She also pulled out a lighter. She ran back and handed both of the items to me. I heard a slight cheer from a couple of people. "Smoke it," Darla said.

"What the fuck? What is it?" I said. This was starting to get immature. We were in university. We didn't play childish games and make people choose for us.

But then again, what did I have to lose? Maybe Darla was benefiting me. "Just do it," Darla said.

I couldn't remember much after that. I felt weightless. I couldn't see straight. I was unbelievably calm and happy, though, and I couldn't stop laughing. Peter's face flashed across my eyes a couple times, and I felt a tingle on my lips and laughter explode out of people's mouths. 

"Bella," I head Darla say. She was laughing, too, and so were a couple other people around her. I could see that her shirt was no longer on. "Your turn."

"Dare!" I yelled. Everyone cheered as Darla tried to silence them.

"Call your old boyfriend, um, what's his name?"

"Zayn!" I yelled. I felt a beer can in my right hand. I was draped over the armchair. "Yeah, that's his name."

"Oh, so we got a name?" Darla said. I nodded. "Alright. Call him. Call this 'Zayn' douche and tell him how much you hate him for dumping you."

I fumbled for my phone in my jean pocket and pulled it out. I looked through my contacts and found "Babe." "Fuck babe," I said as I dialed the number and pulled the ear to my phone.