Broken

Chapter Two

Streetlights and fluorescent signs pass by as we cross the city in Bea's car. "Where was this party at?" I ask, feeling the cool night air caress my face. "Mercy's house," Bea answers. I sigh. "Come on, Maggie! I know you two don't get along, but it's her party, so you can at least try to make an effort." She blatantly suggests.

I roll my eyes at the thought of Mercy Caballero, the flawless little high-school sweetheart. Her mother is a famous designer for a very popular clothing brand, so she's been modeling since she was 14, and of course she's made out of money, her house is huge and her parents are always traveling. They're never home, meaning that Mercy hosts parties all the time.

Mercy and I have quite some history. I guess I could start by when we were kids. Our parents were very close so we always visited each other. We were neighbors before her mom's business took off and they moved into the fancy estate by the creek. In 7th grade, we were basically best friends. I had a crush, David, and he was my very first love. Mercy knew all about this.

What I didn't know, is that she also wanted something with David. So one day, I was searching for her to eat lunch together, and found her making out with him behind the bleachers. They dated until 9th grade. Suddenly I had no friends, and it was like that for the rest of the year until Bea moved here in 8th grade.

Bea and Mercy do actually get along pretty well, Mercy has also taken her to a couple of her photoshoots. Bea's always trying to bring us together and make us friends again, but I know that'll never happen.

The car stops in front of a large three-floored house. Music booms from it's inside. "Come on," Bea says, taking my hand inside. I run behind her as she rings the door bell.

Mercy opens the door, smiling fakely. She holds a red solo cup in her hand. Her ombre blonde hair is long and curled in uniform glamorous waves, and put into a half ponytail. She wears a full face of make-up, stiletto heels and a very tight little black dress. "Come on in, girlies!" She says. "Go to the lounge. Bar's at the right, dance floor to the left. Try not to fall my very big pool." She points out.

Bea guides me through this house I know too well, until we reach the lounge. There are two massive speakers hanging from the ceiling, booming fast music loudly in every direction, strobe lights flashing to every beat. The air is heavy with sweat and the stench of smoke. The white leather couches are filled with couples of strangers jamming their tongues down each other's throats, in a cringeworthy spectacle.

"Hey baby," Colton whispers in a raspy voice, as he greets Bea with a long, intense kiss. His grey polo shirt reeks of man cologne and alcohol. "Oh, hi Maggie." He says, when he sees me standing awkwardly next to Bea. "Hey," I mumble in a sigh. He wraps his arm along her waist. "Come with me babe," he drunkly whispers into her ear, making her giggle.

They walk away together towards the dance floor, and before I know it, they're gone, vanished into a mass of bodies, all grinding the rhythm like wild animals. Once again, I'm alone. I'm suddenly filled with regret. Why did I even come here, I think. I close my eyes for a brief second, sitting down in a staircase, trying to picture myself in bed with a good book or a Netflix movie.

"Fallin' asleep hun?" I hear someone slur. I open my eyes to look straight at a dark-haired man, someone from school probably, someone I don't know. He slides next to me, drink in hand, as his other arm tries to snake down my back. Trying to avoid his steady gaze on me, I move away slightly. "Do I know you?" I ask politely, yet in a threatening tone.

"Not yet, but soon enough." He says with a smirk, pulling my face closer to his. I can feel his bad breath on my lips. Enraged, I slap his arm away from me. "Bea! Let's get out of here!" I yell, getting no answer. "BEATRICE!" I call out, even louder.

The man behind me turns me around and grabs me once again by the waist. "Are you sure you don't want any of this?" He says in a failed sexy voice. "I'm pretty fucking sure." I scolded, pushing him away, making him fall butt-first onto a wooden table.

"Beatrice!" I stomp towards the dancefloor. I call her phone too, she doesn't answer. I let out a frustrated sigh, and continue to search for her.

"Having a good time?" Asks Mercy as I bump into her. Oh yeah, it's great." I say sarcastically. "Fantastic!" she responds as she walks towards the bar for another drink.

Without a warning, the same man appears once again. "You're a whore!" He shouts in drunken rage, pouring his drink on me, soaking Bea's top and my white pants. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I scream, slapping him across the face with my purse. I'm getting the hell out of here, I think again. Thanks a lot, Bea.

I slam the door behind me, feeling the night's very cold air on my wet, sticky body. "Fuck this." I whisper angrily, kicking a pebble from the sidewalk, and begin my way home.