I pull up at Jenna's house and knock on the door. I'm nervous that this will turn out like it did as I remember, with us being reported to the police for being too loud, and having to stash the drinks and pretend we were just dancing. Some people were arrested. I don't know why I bothered to come here. I guess I don't want to disappoint my friends.
"Oliver! It's about time you got here." Jenna laughs, clearly drunk. "Come in! Hey everyone, the birthday boy is here! Say hello!"
Instantly all the attention is on me. I wave awkwardly. "Hi..."
"Happy birthday!"
"Heeeeyyyy!" Mason slurs and drapes his arm around my shoulders. "Itsss about tiiime you got here."
"You. Are. Drunk." I push him off. "Dude. You're totally wasted. Get off."
"Oh, live a little." He shoves a cup with some mystery liquid at me. It sloshes over the brim, and I cringe a little.
"Uh... yeah..." I tentatively take a sip, and nearly spit it out. I always hated alcohol and still do.
"Come onnnnn, party!" He disappears into the mosh pit. I stick to the wall and stand around awkwardly. Some people come up and wish me happy birthday. I want to leave. I have to get out of here before something happens.
I start for the door, when someone knocks loudly on the door. Jenna opens it, and is greeted by the police. I take this chance to slip away out the window, and land on my butt. There, I am greeted by a very unhappy looking Jessabelle Corey with her arms crossed.
"Chandler, what are you doing here?" She doesn't sound too surprised to see me.
"Um... I was invited here... for my birthday..."
"Save it. You're realise you're in huge trouble, right? I just called the police."
My eyes widen. "You called the police?"
"Yes!" She says, exasperated. "I live. Right. There. Next door?"
"Oh..."
"Do you get it? It's two thirty in the fucking morning."
"Yeah..." I bite my lip.
"You know what? Just go home."
"Wh-what-?"
"I can't stand looking at you. Just leave. I won't report you, just... go away." She shakes her head.
"..." I sit there as she turns away.
"What are you waiting for? Leave!" She yells. I stand up shakily.
"You aren't drunk, are you?"
"No." I say quietly. "I'm sorry for bothering you."
I turn and run.
YOU ARE READING
Collateral Damage
RomantizmJessabelle Corey commited suicide on December 9th. Now, Oliver Chandler has the chance to save her life. The catch is, he only has twenty one days, and if he fails, he will die in her place.
