It's Terribly Perfect.

20. It's Terribly Perfect: Remembering.

I felt dizzy as memories swarmed into my head and I scanned over the familiar face in front of me; the too dark brown eyes, straight nose, pillowed lips twitching up and his broad jaw was set tight. Goosebumps rose over my skin as I eyed his malevolent smile.

And I remembered everything.

-

“What? Who told you that and most importantly, why did you believe them?” I scoff into the phone.

“That doesn’t matter! Did you do it or not?” Luke yelled back, his voice booming out from the speaker.

“No you idiot! Why would I cheat on you? Let alone with Calub?” I riposte.

“You two used to be close right?” he rumbled angrily. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t remember. He just stopped talking to me one day and became a total ass.”

“I don’t believe you. You slept with him didn’t you?”

“No! God no!” I object quickly, the vile rising in my throat at the thought.

“Sure, Kasynne. Whatever, just forget it. Go to the party without me. In fact,” he spits out, “go with Calub. Goodbye.”

“Wait, I-“ but my words were cut off by a beep, signaling he’d hung up. I groaned, throwing my phone onto the bed with too much force. I snatched it up after it bounced to the floor and inspected it for scratches and cracks, exhaling in relief when I found none.

Why does he get so jealous over a silly, – and quite revolting – meaningless rumor? I swear, one day he’s going to go too far if he ever sees me with someone else.

“Kasynne!” I hear my mother call from downstairs. “Your friends are here!”

I scanned over my thrown-together outfit that consisted of a baby blue chiffon top and a pair of white jeans before pulling on my shoes and grabbing a jacket from the closet. I said a goodbye to my mom and Tyler as I skipped down the stairs and out the front door, tugging out the hair tie that was holding my ponytail, allowing my hair to fall down in messy flips and flicks to the mid of my back.

Reaching the van parked in our driveway, I arched an eyebrow at the noisy teens in the vehicle before yanking open a door and looking to the driver,  Austin Peters. I don’t know him too well but it’s not very hard to notice that he’s a punk wannabe.

“Where’s Arin?” I shouted to him over the chatter of unfamiliar students. She begged me for a solid hour and a half to come to this silly ‘end of the school year’ party. Events such as this one aren’t exactly my cup of tea.

“We dropped by her house,” he called back, shrugging as he glanced at me with grayish eyes. “She said she couldn’t come, that her parents were busting her chops about something.” He ran a hand through his greasy black hair, signaling with his other for me to climb in. My stomach churned, feeling nauseous as I scooted in between two sweaty jocks that were, by the looks of it, high and drunk already.

I don’t know why, but I have a nasty feeling this night is going to get bad.

*

“Kasynne! Babe,” a red-faced boy came staggering over to me, drops of only God knows what splashing out from his red plastic up. Classic.

“Don’t call me babe,” I drone, my face twisting in disgust as he slings a lanky arm over my shoulders. “You stink.”

“And you are not very nice,” he slurred, his breath reeking horribly of alcohol. “Here!” he spurted, jutting out a cup with pink liquid sloshing inside of it toward me. “Drink up and have some fun, eh?”