five

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[feelings and forgetful mess]

Friday 3:36 pm

Asshole: Your party better be sick.

Saskia: It will be until you come.

Asshole: Ouch, that hurt :/

Saskia: Oops.

Asshole:

You made me sad, on a Friday  :((

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You made me sad, on a Friday  :((

Saskia: Good.

Asshole: I'm gonna get you back for saying that.

Saskia: Doubt it .

Asshole: Just you wait.

-

7:26 pm

Noora and I scrambled around my house, trying to hide any valuables for the party tonight. Conveniently, Milla and my mother had gone away for the weekend to visit my grandparents. I was supposed to go, but I had "studies" that had flooded my schedule. It couldn't hurt to drink a little, and take a break from my damn chemistry book.

We locked off the upstairs area, where most of the bedrooms were. Despite the lower level being tiny, the backyard was huge. I had gotten lucky with having a clear and cool night, instead of the storms that kept bombarding the weekends. I switched on the fair lights outside, and was pretty much set.

I had only invited the Penetrators and two other buses. I wasn't thrilled about having too many people in my house who were just gonna hook up, drink, smoke, or trash it. The fridge was filled with beers and I had put out some chips on the table. I was ready for tonight. I needed it.

Noora's eyes were glued to the mirror as she carefully reapplied her deep red lipstick. The bell rang, and I got up to go open it. There stood the rest of the girls and another group I had invited. The quiet house was quickly filled with noise, and I felt so much more relaxed to hear commotion.

People grabbed beers and someone hooked up their phone to a speaker, blasting music through the whole house. I left the door unlocked, not bothering to even try to hear the doorbell for the others arriving.

I grabbed myself a beer and walked over to the rest of the girls. All of them were shocked to finally see me not uptight as myself usually was. I could already smell weed running through the house. Hell it had only been minutes since I let everyone in.

insane // chris schistadWhere stories live. Discover now