romeo + juliet ↠ l.h

8

I started drinking again.

I tried so hard not to, I really did. I guess I didn't try hard enough.

It was on a Thursday night, the next week after the dance. I got bored, started overthinking, laid in my bed crying, and then found my way to the inferno. I had no exact reason to be sad. I had the perfect life, but just like Luke had said, I'm ungrateful. I felt the need to feel sorry for myself. Why did I constantly play the victim? There had to be something wrong with me.

I almost expected Luke to be there, waiting to take care of me.

But this time, he wasn't.

He hadn't talked to me since the night of the dance. I wondered if he was just avoiding me because he didn't like me or because of our parents. Either way, it hurt my feelings. I didn't know why I was so hurt exactly. We had only spoken a few times, and it wasn't like I would consider him a close friend.

I just would have liked to have known why he suddenly decided to ignore me.

Without Luke there to sober me up, I had stumbled through Michael's back door at around 4 am, somehow managing to not wake anybody in the house up. I passed out on the couch, and had to come up with an excuse as to why I slept there and not the guest room I'd been staying. Michael could see right through my lies, though.

He looked sad. He looked like he didn't know what to do.

Why could I not see how much this was hurting the people around me?

But anyways, enough of me pitying myself.

Tonight, a Saturday night, I found myself at a house party. Alice, unaware of the issues in my life, dragged me here, and then preceded to ditch me. I didn't have a problem making friends though.

Making my way to the kitchen to grab a drink came natural to me. I moved as if I was in a dream, like I had no control over my actions. This is what it has come to, I thought.

After I had decided on a drink, I turned to leave the kitchen, only to be faced with the boy who had not acknowledged my existence for seven days.

"Are you following me or something?"

"Well somebody's gotta keep track of you." Luke leaned against the kitchen counter. I didn't know whose house this was, but they threw a nice party.

"I don't need to be kept track of, Luke. How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?" I rolled my eyes, attempting to turn around and return to the party, but he lightly grabbed my arm.

I turned around to see Luke holding his hand out, as if waiting for me to give him something.

"What?" I questioned, but all I received was an expecting glare.

"Give it to me." He gestured towards the bottle of vodka in my left hand.

After a week of completely ignoring me, here he was. I was confused as to why he could not give a shit about me one second, and the next be telling me what to do.

I knew he just wanted to help, and I knew I should give it to him. I wanted to give him the bottle. I couldn't bring myself to, though.

"You'll have to come get it." I declared, running off to the basement where everybody was dancing. Before I was even downstairs, I could hear the pulsing bass of the music. It reminded me of the Inferno.