Bad Girl Bad Girl

5.

my heels clicked delicately against the concrete path as I led the way towards the house that was hosting us tonight. A Marlboro Black cigarette dangled between my fingers, occasionally lifting to my ruby stained lips for a drag. Reaching the front door I let the cig fall carelessly, crushing it underneath the toe of my black pump. I glanced back at the group before opening the door, girlish yells and a thumping beat pouring into my bloodstream. My body seemed to come to life as it did every night, the music base becoming my heartbeat, the liquor flowing like my own blood, giving life to my withered heart.

My girls walked through the doorway and around me, the boys hanging off their arms and separated to their corners while I stood, assessing. I heard my name called a few times and sent small smiles in the direction of the shouts.
Two girls caught my eye, skirts relatively short, shirts uncomfortably placed above their belly buttons. This was all clear by the way they fidgeted in their places by the kitchen island. Which was stocked full with assorted liquors.

My gaze zeroed in on the 21'st century cliche and I smirked, knowing what my time would be occupied with tonight.

I allowed a sickly sweet smile to slither it's way onto my expression as I approached the girls, their attention falling on me and increasing their nerves ten-fold. I reached behind them, glancing at the cups being dangerously clenched by white knuckles grips. I snagged a bottle of Vodka and walked away from them, making my way to the kitchen to grab a few things for a mixed drink. I knew their gazes would be following me the whole way.

After I had made a concoction of Hawaiian Punch, pineapple juice and vodka. I turned, noticing how the girls had shifted their way into the kitchen after me to watch. I lifted my cup in greeting and offered a rye smile, one returned it. Blonde and rosy cheeked, I could tell she had already sampled a few of the drinks tonight. The mousy one. Fair skinned and limp haired just stared at me, I could immediately tell who had been forced to come to this bash, how boring.

I walked to the girls and leaned against the counter, taking a long sip of my drink before speaking. The sugar from the punch slid down my throat and I repressed a disgusted shudder.

"Hey." Was all that I offered, choosing to watch their reactions and how they fed off of each others energy. The blonde perked instantly at my greeting.

"Hi! I'm Amy, this is Brooke." She tossed her manicured hand in the quiet girls direction and received a suttle glare for it. I kept my eyes on her until she noticed me and raised an eyebrow in her direction, she challenged my gaze for a moment before lowering hers to her ratty grey vans.

My gaze slid back to the blonde who was still talking animatedly to me, I lifted the corners of my mouth into what I hoped was a interested smile and interrupted her babbling.

"What are you two drinking tonight?" By the looks of it all these jocks have offered the girls is a sample out of their keg, and judging by the slight grimaces that washed over the blondes expression after a sip confirmed my suspicion.

I kept my gaze on the brunette after I asked, trying to force some words out of her. She glanced in her cup and shrugged.

"Just Sprite for me. Amy is drinking the boys' beer." The blonde shot her a fiery glance and I held back a smirk. Too easy.

I spoke before the buoyant blonde could think of a retort to redeem herself in my eyes. "You mean you're drinking Sprite and Malibu. And you," I glanced to the blonde and gave a disdainful look to her cup. "Leave the beer for the beasts." Her cheeks flamed red and she set her cup on the counter. The mousy girl immediately shook her head and held her cup to her chest like I would magically contaminate it.

"We aren't supposed to drink tonight. We have to go home at 11." The brunette said, looking pointedly at her friend. The blonde seemed to sneer in her friends direction, shifting closer to me.