02
We pull up to the party, and I can immediately hear the music pumping. Sometimes I wonder why no one calls the cops on these parties. But it's whatever. I turn to Chloe, giving her a smile, "You ready for this? Cause I sure as hell am, I'm getting smashed tonight Chlo," and I open the car door, stepping out onto the lawn.
We walk in, and you can smell the scent of booze, weed, and cigarettes in the air. Heavenly. I instantly notice that they have a pretty large supply of "Not Your Grandfather's Root Beer" and I make my way to it and grab a bottle, opening it and taking a big swig. This stuff is dangerous. It tastes just like root beer, you really can't tell it's beer.
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"Chloeeeeee, let's get on the table and danceeeee!" I slur, thinking it's the best idea in the world.
"Okayyyyyyyy," she giggles as she grabs my hand and pulls me towards the table.
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The Emergency
Teen FictionLeila is your typical socialite teenager. She loves to hang with friends, party, laugh, and have fun. She never had any problems. That is until one day, one silly little mistake, and she finds herself holding on for dear life.
