blue (book one) - h.s. ✔️ watty's 2019

chapter 1

"If you had just let me drive, we could've been their in half the time," Alex groans from the opposite end of the car.

"You drive like a total grandma, Parker. This is torture. I should be there already!" he cries taking another long swig from the vodka bottle.

This is the last time I play chaperone.

"I don't trust you or your driving when you're tipsy, Alex. Nothing changes just because you're drunk. It's quite the opposite, actually," I sigh sounding like a broken record.

Immediately after my lecture to Alex I feel a slight bump in the road and gasp mortified. I pray that I did not just run over something-

Or someone, my snobby subconscious interjects adding more to my stress.

Living.

It's pitch dark out right now, so my vision is limited. Without looking down, I reach below me, searching for my glasses anxiously before I notice them lying on the dashboard.

"Can't you speed up, Parker!" he groans banging his head against his headrest, like a toddler.

"I'm the fucking life of the party. Do you not realize that they need me?" he slurs pushing me roughly, causing the car to swerve a bit.

Oh my gosh.

"Please, stop? We're almost there."

I continue driving for not that long before I can hear the sound of loud music pounding in the distance. I'm surprised no one's filed a noise complaint. There has been an assembly line of vehicles parked on the curbs of both sides of our car for about a mile now. The closer we get to the party house the more that our car quite literally starts vibrating to the beat of the distant music.

This can't be real.

Regardless, I continue driving until a large house comes into view. It looks completely trashed with toilet paper rolls strung about and painted writing decor eating the white exterior. The house looks like it has potential to be a very posh, well done house. It kind of bothers me a bit of how it's being treated.

"Finally!" Alex cheers as we pull outside of the loud house.

I roll my eyes, but don't comment as I'm sure that he won't respond well to my sass in this state.

I don't even realize it until I look over at him, but his door is swung completely open while he's finishing off the large bottle.

"Here, Park. Have some. It'll help take out the stick lodged up your ass," he slurs drunkenly.

In any other setting, his words would have hurt me greatly, but I've dealt with this boy one too many times to know the drill. Against my better judgement, I finish off the bottle looking proud when it's all gone.

"Good, boy. Now let's go," he shouts running out of the car and tumbling down halfway up the small stairs.

I laugh lightly, hiding the spare keys in our special place known only to me, Alex, and his parents, under the hood of the car, just in case one of us losses the actual car keys.