Everything in Between

Chapter 4: When Life Gave Me Lemonade

In hindsight, if I knew what kind of party was taking place, I probably would've worn something different.

I should've seen it coming when I arrived. From the tank tops to the beach shorts, smell of sunscreen and sights of bathing suits, I probably should've known something was up when I was the only one there with jeans on.

But I didn't.

Instead, I found myself walking through the pavilion, the sound of screams and rushing water flooding my ears. Following these sounds I saw the pavement kissed with droplets. Soon these droplets turned into blotches, and soon, the entire area it lead to was soaked and full of teenagers.

Did I mention that the sun was shining at its peak and that I could pretty much see everything?

Okay, you got me. I'm stalling. Fine. Here's how it went down.

I saw Rachel first. She ran to me, hair tied up into a bun, wearing a bathing suit, a smile plastered on her face. Did I mention that most of the girls there were wearing a bathing suit?

Oh God, help me.

"Hey! You made it!" she says as we hug, pulling away shortly.

"Yeah, I think-"

I don't think she heard me though, because the next thing I know, she grabs me by the arm, leads me around the Olympic sized pool and says: "Come on! I'll show you to Angie."

As she's leading the way, I look around and see the people staring at me like was a tomato plant amongst banana trees. I say tomato, mainly because that's probably what color my cheeks were as we were walking around this stadium-like place.

Apart from the regular crowd, I saw my buddy, Priestly, too, going to town on the ladies like he owned the place.

Ironic isn't it?

You'd think that a guy named Priestly would live up to his name, but really, he was anything but. The guy moved like he was dancing, gliding across the floor with nothing but some shorts and sunglasses. Let me tell you, if you think that my eyes hover around, at least I'm discreet.

(Okay, maybe not always. But at least I try to be. )

Priestly's eyes were like Tiger tanks; every girl could see him looking, but they didn't really mind. In fact, he was pretty much a chick magnet that day. Mercilessly slaying the one-liners as if he was born to, and the girls I never thought were the flirty type, were actually playing along.

What I'm trying to say is that, Priestly does things to and with ladies, that'd make any religious mom put up her hands in frustration. A guy that girls like to see, but boyfriends hate to meet.

And from where I was looking, I could already see boyfriends giving him the death glare as he chats up their fine ladies.

That man is my hero.

I turn my attention to my front so I won't trip, as Rachel was leading me. If you think that was an excuse to check her out, shame on thee.

I already did that minutes earlier.

"She's here, you know," she whispers, as we get closer to each other, weaving in and out through the crowd.

Still thinking she's talking about Angie, I just said, "I'd assume so, I mean, it is her party after all."

"No, not her," and she just gives me this death glare that softens into a look that just says idiot.