Why am I so damn annoyed? They're hugging, so what? He's an asshole, a player and I don't even know why this is affecting me.
I try to not look at them hugging and chatting and try to talk to Dylan instead, but he's long gone. I look down on the floor trying to entertain myself but it just isn't working. I glance at them and I see him holding his hands on the lower part of her back as she's whispering something in his ear. He chuckles after and tells her something that makes her giggle.
God, she's oblivious! What are you, 12? You don't have to giggle at everything a boy says just because you like him.
Jesus, I need to take control over myself. They're friends, probably. God! It doesn't even matter, Zayn and I have talked like three times, we're not even friends.
I decide to go somewhere else because it started to get really awkward just standing there alone and watching them, I guess. I walk my way to the table that's filled with liquor and try to come up with a good reason for me to drink. I pick my phone up to text my mom that I'll probably sleep over here. I'm not driving home drunk, no way. Dylan asked me to stay anyways.
"Hey mom, I'll be staying here at Dylan's place so don't stay up late because of me. Love you." I text my mom and don't bother to wait for a reply. I take a shot glass and fill it all the way to the top. I gulp as I stare at the disgusting liquid in the small glass.
I tilt my head as I swallow the whole shot. I can immediately feel the burning sensation in my throat, I feel it travel through my throat to my stomach since it warms up my body.
I take another one and then mix some cherry soda with vodka as I walk my way to the living room. There are about 20 persons sitting in a little circle with a spinning bottle in the middle.
"Alexis, join us!" I hear someone shout. Oh hell no. I shake my head as I take a seat on one of the chairs in the corner of the room.
I sit there and watch a whole round of Truth or Dare. It's the same thing that always happens, a girl sits in her bra, a boy sits shirtless, people make out and people take shots. Nothing I haven't experienced before.
I've already drunk my mix of cherry soda and vodka and I'm in a dilemma if I should get another or if I should just take it easy.
I play with my fingernails not knowing what to do, but then I remember what happened last time I was wasted and that's when I decide that I should take it easy.
"Make out with Alina!" I hear someone shout and I quickly snap my head up. Alina is sitting in the circle with Dylan by her side and Zayn a couple of feet away from her. Louis is sitting next to Zayn with a weird expression on his face as Zayn walks towards Alina. She giggles and I furrow my brows out of annoyance. I stand up from my chair and fill up a shot of vodka from the little liquor table.
"I wanna play." I say and quickly regret it. I'm so stupid. Why did I do that? I take the shot and cringe afterwards.
"Oh really?" Louis says and has a smirk on his lips. I smile back out of intoxication as I mix vodka with some soda in a glass that I found on the table. I take my drink as I walk towards the circle.
"Yes, really." I answer as I sit next to Louis. Zayn's eyes are on me. He first looks confused but then I smirk at him and that's when I see the annoyance in his eyes.
"Let's get back to business." Zayn says after starring in my eyes intently.
For some reason, I feel my blood rushing through my body and I don't want to see him touching her stupid beautiful body and kissing her stupid beautiful lips.
I ignore my jealousy and sit closer to Louis for some reason. I see him smile from the corner of my eye as I see Zayn's brows furrow. I take a sip from my drink and arch my brows.
"Don't you have a dare to complete?" I ask him and then I give him a little vicious smile.
The people around us are staring like it some reality show and I'm kind of enjoying it.
I glance at the people staring at our little show as I see Dylan's worried eyes and how uncomfortable Alina is. I curse myself out for being an absolute party killer and for being so damn bitchy.
