A Different Kind of Education

Chapter Twenty - One : Old Flames

I was going to kill Justin if it was the last thing I did.

Of all things to choose to do, he had to decide to go to stupid Trent's party. And it wasn't like I was just going to let him be at the party alone, because if he were to get into any kind of trouble I would be furious at myself. So obviously I told him that I would go with him to make sure that he stayed out of any trouble, to which he offhandedly said wouldn't happen and that I could just stay home. I insisted though, not willing to risk it. I had just gotten him back in my life and I wasn't ready to let him go again. Life had just started looking fun again with his wise cracking jokes and pearly white smirk, always waiting to appear when I did something ridiculous.

So here I was, standing right in front of my mirror, staring down my reflection. Brown ankle boots, black leggings, comfy Supernatural sweater stolen from Justin's closet. My basic outfit these days, paired with chapstick and a messy bun.

For some reason as I stare at my reflection I can't help but feel a nagging desire to dress nicer. Not as out-there and extravagant as I used to, but more than just leggings or hoodies, as in my every day clothes. Could it have anything to do with the fact that a cute old flame would be at this party as well? A little voice in my head says softly, to which I shake my head in denial yet find myself walking over to my closet to grab a fitted red tank top. I let my hair fall in loose curls down my back and apply a thin layer of black eyeliner. Right before I walked out of my room, I backtracked quickly and put on a nice dark shade of burgundy lipstick.

There.

"Well don't you look like a walking felony." Justin's deep scratchy voice says from the front door.

A strange feeling arose in my chest as I noticed the way he looked at me. Why don't you just fawn over any boy that walks in front of you? I ignore the little voice in my head and just grin at Justin.

"It's called casual." I reply with nonchalance.

"Then you must be hobo status every other day."

I punch his arm.

"That's called comfy." I remark with a playful glare.

"Whatever it is, you look good in both." He whispers in my ear as we walk out of the house.

****

The party is as expected. Loud, crowded, and completely filled with booze. Granted, I had been to many of these before this time a feeling of nervousness set in and I grip Justin's hand for comfort. He glances down at me to flash a comforting smile and then wraps an arm around my shoulders, planting a brief kiss on my head. A strong sense of nostalgia overtakes my body, causing me to lean heavily into his side. Nothing like a good old familiar comforting security blanket in the form of Justin.

As we walk into the main room of the house, the scent of alcohol and sweaty teen age bodies fills our noses as we came into sight of a room crowded with dancing bodies. I hear the song playing and instantly go back into memories of the dance from the first time I had gone to a party with Clara. The song I had first kissed a boy (Trent) to and taken my first shot during. Sexy Silk blasts through the speakers and all of the girls scream before getting into the mood of gyrating against all of the guys on the dance floor. 

Justin must have seen the sweet reminiscent smile on my face because he gets a devious smirk on his lips before pulling me toward the mass of drunken teen bodies. I yank back in protest, not wanting to go near anything that would take me back to my old ways. He isn't having any of it though and his strength greatly surpassed mine, that was for sure. So suddenly he and I are on the dance floor wedged between grinding bodies. I am ready to smack Justin and make a quick get away when I feel his hands engulf my waist and pull me against his warm body.