The World is Ugly, but You are Beautiful to Me

chapter 21

Electronical club-type music is blasting from every corner of the room. My heart is beating faster than the music and my eyes dart around the red room.

"Chelsea!" I shout. "Why are we here? Aren't we underage?!"

"Shh," she laughs, "someone might hear you. And it's fine; you're almost eighteen now. The people here love me anyways."

I mentally slap myself for agreeing to go out with Chelsea. I should've known that she would come somewhere like this.

I don't have much time to worry because Chelsea pulls me over to the bar at the side of the room. She sits down on a leather stool and tugs me into one as well.

A rather-attractive bartender walks up to us immediately. He waves at Chelsea, so they obviously know each other. Chelsea orders some alcoholic beverage that I've never heard of before loudly whispering to him that today is my birthday. Mike (according to his name tag) turns towards me. "What will it be, birthday girl?" he smirks.

"Just water, thanks," I reply instantly. I'm not spending my eighteenth birthday getting wasted with a popular bitch.

Chelsea and Mike burst into laughter. "Come on, live a little," she urges me. I roll my eyes, silently telling her that I'm not in the mood. "Get the girl a vodka," Chelsea turns to Mike, despite my protests.

I sigh. Can't Chelsea take no for an answer?

Apparently not, because less than a minute later, a shot of vodka is slid in front of me, along with Chelsea's drink. She smirks and brings the glass to her lips while I leave mine where it was.

"Cheers!" she giggles, raising her glass to meet mine. But I don't pick up the drink. She scowls, annoyed that I'm not playing along. "What, are you scared?" she taunts. "I told you, people here love me. You're not gonna get in trouble, so stop being such a wimp. God, I should've known you wouldn't do anything."

Her words piss me off. I'm not a wimp, I'm not afraid. I just don't trust her enough to get drunk. But I guess one drink won't hurt.

I pick up the shot glass in my shaky hand and tap it against Chelsea's. We both take a long sip from them. A burning sensation takes over all of my senses, but I try not to show it. I don't want Chelsea to think any more badly of me. I rarely ever drink, but I have had some of my mom's when she wasn't home. It's alright, but it's not something I would do often.

I finish the drink faster than I expected, and before I can even finish swallowing it Chelsea orders another round. I groan; I really do not want to get wasted and I don't know what my limit is before that will happen. I clink my glass against hers another time. When there is only a small amount of liquid left, I suggest to Chelsea that we dance. That way I won't be roped into more drinking.

Thankfully, she agrees. We push through the large crowd of practically naked people. Chelsea stops suddenly, then starts running towards something. I'm extremely confused but follow her anyways. She eventually reaches her destination: two guys who I estimate are about twenty.

"Heyy!" Chelsea greats them excitedly.

"Chelseaaa!" they exclaim. I can hear that they've been drinking, but not enough to be totally drunk.

Chelsea grabs the taller of the two, and motions for them to follow her back onto the dance floor. "This is my friend Katherine, today's her birthday!" she shouts over the mound music. "This is Zach and this is Peter," She points to them. Zach is the taller one who she seems to be closer to. Knowing her, they're probably just friends with benefits. Zach has dark hair that brushes his face and caramel eyes. Peter's hair is in between blonde and brown. I personally find him more attractive (even more than Mike.)

I awkwardly smile at them, not sure of what to say. Chelsea declares that it's time to dance and immediately starts grinding on Zach. I look away, regretting that I had suggested dancing at all. Peter clears his throat, also unsure of what to do. Neither of us are moving. We're just standing in the middle of a bunch of drunk dancers.

"So," he starts, "uhh, how old are you turning?"

"Seventeen."

"Cool. I'm nineteen."

"Okay."

"Do you want to dance?"

"I guess."

Our conversation died quickly, since neither of us had much to say. Peter starts swaying back and forth to the beat that the DJ has created. I do the same. Dancing was never really my thing.

"I'm a shit dancer," he declares. "God, I need a beer."

Peter slowly turns to walk towards the bar. I debate on going with him. I shouldn't have another drink, but I feel so out of place. I look over at Chelsea, and she has obviously forgotten about me. All that's going through her mind is Zach. I come to the conclusion that she's not going to acknowledge me while Peter is gone and I will then be left here alone. Although I barely know him, Peter is better than no one.

I quickly catch up to him and we return to the bar.

Mike grins once he sees me. "Ah, coming back for more? That's the spirit," he winks. I ignore his comment and order my third vodka.

Peter gets a beer, as he had said. I begin to pull a five dollar bill from the cash I have stuffed in my bra, but Peter stops me. "No, I got it," he says.

I thank him as we grab our drinks and return to where Chelsea and Zach are dancing.

Now that I have more alcohol flowing through my veins, I can dance so much easier. I don't have to think about it, I just do whatever my mind is telling my body to do. Peter does the same, and I start to have fun for the first time in years.