Heliocentric /'hiːlɪə(ʊ)ˈsɛntrɪk'/ adjective having or representing the sun as a center: ocentric concept of the universe.
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"My universe, will never be the same I'm glad you came, I'm glad you came" -Glad you came, The Wanted (Glee version)
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THE MUSIC IS ON FULL BLAST and I can feel it vibrating against the wall I'm leaning on, struggling to remember why I came here in the first place. My face scrunches in mild disgust as I taste the bitter liquid from my solo cup. I lift it so that it's level with my face and eye approximately how much I have left. Half cup.
I pour the rest in the potted plant beside me as Mike comes staggering, each step clumsy and uncoordinated. In the dark room with dim lighting, his blonde hair stands out like a buoy in the sea. I, on the other hand, with my darker features and navy sweater, blend into the shadows, merging as one. With each beat of the music, I sink further into the background, becoming undetectable to the drunken students around me.
Well, almost undetectable.
"James!" He says (rather loudly), causing a few nearby people to throw annoyed glances our way. The alcohol from his breath fans my face, making me scrunch my face once more as he throws a tan arm around my shoulder. His arm jolts me from my original unmoving position, making me drop the now empty cup and I briefly watch as it rolls somewhere unknown. "So this is where you've been hiding. With.." He glances at the empty couch to my right and the potted plant (now reeking of beer) to my left. "With yourself. I think you're taking the Me, Myself and I saying a bit too literal. This is sad, mate."
I frown at his words and stretch my arms slightly, trying to shake the stiffness from standing in the same spot for the past hour. The only reason I came to this party was as Mike's wing man and designated driver, only to be ditched five minutes in. The party was mainly seniors, with the exception of a few juniors including Mike and I. This meant that I didn't know many people (not that I would be socializing even if I did), and the host was a guy whom Mike knew from the track team, getting us in the party with ease. After waving to him when we entered, Mike promptly went to go mingle while I chose to (attempt) to get drunk to pass the time. That plan failed, however, because beer tasted the equivalent to piss.
"Come on, this party is sick! Free booze, music, girls... and Brittney is here!" He says, noticing my expression, trying to bait me by mentioning the girl who I mentioned was pretty once. As the head cheerleader and most popular girl in our year, it wasn't uncommon of her physical attributes to be mentioned. To others, it would mean nothing, but to Mike he held it against me as if it were the key to life. As the academic driven introvert I am, I didn't mention girls much, and the one time I did(ish) seemed to peak Mike's interest. Honestly, I only called Brittney that because of Mike. He had been blabbering on about an attractive girl in his home ec class (whom I later found out was Brittney), to which I replied absentmindedly with a "mhm, she's alright" while I continued reading Stephen King's It. This proved to be the one of the most negligent choices of my life, as he forever harasses me about her. James, Brittney ordered chocolate milk in the cafeteria today! James, Brittney passed her first science test today! James, guess who is recovered from her case of the flu?? Guess! Gues- IT'S BRITTNEY! James! James!
