Reconcile

f o u r

(Gif Above: Heather Worthington) [Alexandrea Daddario]

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Well. My yearned for night of fun hadn't really been accomplished yet. Mainly due to the fact that the place reeked of alcohol and smoke, not to mention everyone was screaming and laughing hysterically. The music practically bulging from the medium sized speakers, my ears ringing loudly with immense pain.

Basically, everyone seemed to be having a good time but me. And, as predicted, Chloe was outside hanging out with Reid. For, he declared at least an hour of alone time. But, that hour is going to turn into her full on ditching me and driving her and Reid back to her place. Sending me the usual text about eleven or so in the morning the text day. Explaining as to how deeply sorry she was.

I groaned, my gaze falling to the floor where a lone shot glass lay. The petite cup bouncing slightly due to the leaping teenagers and thumping music. Merely reminding me about how miserable I was here.

I bent down timidly. Plucking the object from the floor and cradling it between my two fingertips. Rolling it carefully in between my palms, the shot glass playing as some form of entertainment.

"Wanna re-fill, babe?" A slurred voice questioned from behind me. My head abruptly turning as I spotted Brian FinStock wallowing within the crowd of teens. A hilariously large translucent pitcher lazily clutched between his fingertips. Looking as if it would collapse to the floor in a matter of seconds.

"No—" I began to answer his question, but decided to cut myself off. I mean, I was here to have fun, right? "Actually, sure. Why not."

"That's the spirit!" He hollered, sloppily spilling the contents from the pitcher into my tiny glass. The liquid slightly scorching my fingers with coolness. A small smile decorating my features as Brian wobbled away.

With hesitation, I let the liquid roll down my tongue. My eyes squeezing shut and lips pursing uncomfortably. Feeling the sudden urge to vomit up whatever just entered my system.

"Woah there, easy kitten."

I inwardly groaned at the familiar voice. Cringing at the nickname I had been given. Kitten being something Nick had jokingly said to me a few years back. For, everyone called me and knew of me as Cat. Kitten merely being a diminutive version of the word, or as he had put it.

"Kitten? Really?" I retorted, turning to face the teenager beside me.

He shrugged unemotionally, "It suits you."

I hummed in confusion, my eyes scanning the sea of people briefly, "Why is it kitten? Why can't I be like a lion—or cheetah or. . .something."

I furrowed my eyebrows at my strange words, my teeth clambering onto my lower lip as squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment. But, instead of hearing an uproar of laughter next to me, it was silent. Therefore, my eyes slowly peeled themselves open yet again, a large smirk plastered about his symmetrical features.

"Fine," he abided, clearing his throat quite loudly, "Woah there, easy tiger."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes as well as setting the petite glass down onto the edge of a windowsill. In which was conveniently placed behind me.

"So," I began, folding my arms across my chest, "where is Amber? Aren't you guys always attached at the hip or something?"