Tease // Robbie Kay

Chapter 14: The Illest

Chapter 14: The Illest

It was about 7:30 pm when Natalia, Kylie,  Zoey, Danielle and I piled back into Kylie's car. 

I was back in the spiked lolitas, denim shorts, and a fitted, cropped, long sleeved daisy print tee.  I had on winged eyeliner, false lashes, and berry lipstick.  I kept my blonde hair straightened, and I kept my cell phone and lip gloss in my back pocket. 

I hadn't really been to such a party, but I imagined this is how the other girls dressed, and therefore, I should dress like them too.  Boys don't notice basic girls.

We arrived at Harry Shane's house at about 7:50.  The sky was already dimming and we could hear the bass from the beginning of the driveway. 

His house was huge, that's for sure.

As we pulled next to the sidewalk, Kylie quickly shut off the car and busted out the door, along with Danielle coming out the passenger side, and Natalia and Zoey coming out next to me.  We started walking up the sidewalk and pavement to his front door, passing the already drunken boys running through the yard and the buzzed girls spilling beer from their cracked red cups.  Walking over the soiled drink stains, we continued approaching the door until, as if we were waited for, a curly-haired brunette boy swung open the door.

"Ayyee, ladies!" he slurred, stumbling back a step as he held the door open further for us to pass in.  As soon as we passed the threshold, he slammed the door shut and pulled Zoey out of our group.

"Babe, I've been waiting," he growled, laying his overflowing cup onto a nearby corner table and pinning Zoey to the door.

"Good," she whispered, roughly nipping his bottom lip, before roughly grabbing his collar and smashing her mouth to his.

"Disgusting," Kylie whispered, pushing us further into the house.

It was basically squirming through people completely careless as they drunkenly stumbled throughout the rooms.  I swear we're only an hour late and everyone is already vomiting in the bathrooms and passing out on the couches.

Ecstatic to be drunk, I presume.

I watched Danielle and Kylie venture through the living room, pushing past the dancing teens as the walls reverberated from the stereo.  No Hands, Waka Flocka Flame?  You best believe a teenage boy picked this playlist.

Natalia and I past several more people who were hovering by the stairwell, until we reached the kitchen.

In here, the lights were dimmed, and the music a little quieter.  Only four or five people were lazily pouring something to drink in their cup, then running back into the main room. 

"This party is crazy," Natalia said, grabbing a plastic cup from the counter and filling it with water from the sink.  She noticed me watching her.  "At least I know this isn't spiked."