Unpredictable~A 5SOS Fanfic

29. WonderWall Believer and Let Her Go.

So we picked up Michaels date, Olivia, and we just arrived at the party. The house was packed, people were outside on the lawn, and there was garbage everywhere.

This house was in the same "Party" neighborhood as the last house party we were at.

"Hey guys." Michael started, before we got out of the car, "Let's try and stick together, yea?"

"Ok!" We all replied.

We made our way up to the house and into the kitchen, since it was the least crowded.

I wanted to stay sober, but at the same time I wanted to drink. To help me forget things. So that's what I did. They fixed me a cherry vodka, and I sipped on it.

We all stood around the kitchen, drinking, and bobbing our heads to the music.

"Guys. Ali and I are gunna go dance before we have to go up!" Calum yelled over the Skrillex beat blasting in the background.

"Yea I think me and Livey here are gunna go to!" Michael added. Luke and I just nodded our heads.

A couple of minutes passed when Luke turned to me, finally speaking up.

"Hey, Mia! Do you um, wanna dance?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"Sure." He took my hand and led me to the dance floor. I lent up to his ear.

"I've never really danced."

"Me neither."

Soon we just fell into the beat of the music, sawing back and forth. Luke spun me around, my back pressing against his front, still swaying with the beat. He placed a gentle kiss to the base of my neck, making me smile. The last time I felt like this, I was with.

No.

Stop it Mikayla.

Just stop.

You can't think about him.

Not tonight.

I opened my eyes and looked around the room.

Hair.

Curly.

Light brown.

Glasses.

Framing honey blue/ green eyes.

Strong frame.

Mussels.

Damn those mussels.

White t-shirt.

Black skinny jeans.

Black vans.

Black leather jacket.

The boy wearing this you ask?

My one true love.

The one I can't get over.

No matter what.

-----*****

I turned myself back to Luke, almost making him trip.

"Woah, you okay Mikayla?"

"Huh? Yea. Yea. I just-." I stop.

"Just what?"

"Nothing. Nothing."

"What's wrong?" He pulls me into the kitchen.

"Nothing. Just, whose playing drums for him?"

"Well, uh. I'm not sure. We may just have a track of him playing or someone's filling in."

"Oh. Ok."