Gangbanger Study-Buddy

Parties and Humiliation

A couple weeks pass with nothing eventful. My days consist of studying and tutoring and, luckily, strange men with tattoos and thick accents haven't come to kidnap or kill me...yet.

Unfortunately, my new schedule has prevented me from seeing Jenna and if I have to hear her threaten to call the police for bestfriend abuse one more time I'll have to go into hiding. She's nothing if not persistent.

And it's that very reason why I'm standing in front of my mirror squeezed into a tight dress that barely reaches mid-theigh, with my hair curled, contacts in, and make-up done to the border of extreme.

"That's what I'm talking about, Paz," Jenna squeels as she circles me. "You need to show off that ass more often."

I barely hold in the scoff. "I feel like I'm being suffocated by a boa constrictor," I wheeze while turning (well...more like waddling) around to face Jenna who looks like she's ready to hit the red carpet.

"That's how you know you're wearing it right," she says whilst applying her cherry red lipstick that brings out her auburn hair.

I love being Jenna's bestfriend, but the role comes with a million party invitations. And that's definitely not my thing.

At all.

Usually I stay behind but I feel like I owe her this since I've been so busy lately. So here I am about to break my ankles on a pair of stilts Jenna calls high heels.

"Come on, Paz," Jenna pouts. "It'll be fun. I promise."

I give her my best smile.

Just grin and bear it. What could go wrong?

°°°

You can always tell it's a party by four factors:

1. Noise

2. Drugs

3. Alcohol

4. Vomit

And I've witnessed all four before walking through the door. This is going to be great.

Jenna walks ahead of me and upon entering the house, heads immediately towards the dance floor with me in tow. I try to drag my feet but the heels prevent me from getting any traction and ultimately force me to stumble forward faster.

The bass reverberates through my chest and gives me the strange feeling of being trapped inside of a heart. It's a blur of people and Jenna quickly falls into the rhythm of the music.

I can do this. I can so do this. I attempt to copy Jenna's movements and sway my hips in time with the beat. I feel like a marionette. This is not working.

I'm stuck in a state of concentration when I feel hands on my hips and I'm suddenly pulled into a chest. This will not do. I quickly twist away and see the tall culprit with the sticky fingers. His eyes are barely open and his dancing looks stiff.

Definitely high.

He makes to reach for me again and I stumble backwards, bumping into people as I go.

"Um...yeah I need to-uh go," I scramble for the right words as I slowly walk backwards. "You...uh...stay in school, champ."

By the time I make it off the makeshift dance floor the guy has already grabbed onto another writhing figure and forgotten about me. Thank God.

I glance about the room and see people clinging to each other in the comfort of the shadowy corners of the room, people playing beer pong, and of course the stoners passing around the communal joint. No where do I see a comfy nook where I can hunker down and read a book. Pity.