Nerd Is A Babysitter ✓

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Life isn't a fairy tale.

And yet, some people believe it is. The sad truth is that life can never be as picture perfect as fairy tales. So, if you lost your shoe at midnight, you're probably drunk.

People don't even have the decency to return your pencil, so I don't see the point for someone to walk a single step just to return a shoe.

And don't even get me started on Rapunzel. Who can grow hair that long, and what was going on in her mind to chop almost all of it off?!

I would never cut my hair. Okay, maybe a trim, but not to that extent.

Thoughts like this come to your mind when your best friend decides to ditch you in a party full of hormonal teenagers grinding on each other. I shouldn't have fell for that puppy-dog face of hers. It has always lead me into trouble, and I learned that the hard way.

Going to a party with Drake blasting in full volume, people making out and doing it wherever they can in every corner of the house, and people drinking their life away is definitely not how I planned to spend my weekend. Movie marathons and binge-watching Vampire Diaries is what I had in mind. But of course I was done for when Stella marched into my room with two slutty dresses in her hand.

"Get up bitch! We are going to PARTAYYY!" Is what she said, in those exact words. I tried to plead with my brother to help me out, but of course Stella already sorted everything out.

The backless black dress hugged my curves, sparkling in the dim lighting. It had a low neckline and ended, luckily, upto my knees. Somehow, this was much more modest than Stella's dress. She forced me to put on makeup and let my hair cascade down my back, ending at my elbows. Honestly, it would've been easy to just tie it into a messy bun, but Stella shoved that thought down quickly. This is so not my scene. It felt like my heart was beating out of my chest because of the loud music that practically shook the house.

This is yet another one of the famous James Parkins weekend parties, which usually ends with massive hangovers and people nursing their heads, which most likely feel like someone took a bat to their brain. I don't understand why people think it's cool to have random teenagers puking in gardens and doing the dirty all over the house. I don't even let people kiss on my couch. It just grosses me out.

My eyes roamed around the room, only to land on a certain someone with blonde hair and green eyes wearing an almost transparent black top over a Victoria Secret black bra and a short skirt. My eyes landed on the boy pressed against her. He was cute, but he didn't look like someone from our school. My eyes roamed further and lent on him. He was unmistakable with his black hair and piercing blue eyes. His black shirt hugged his biceps, perfectly matching his jeans. I gawked at him from afar, knowing he wouldn't see me in the dimly lit room.

He was making out with some chick, and they were literally eating each other's face. The chick sitting on his lap was none other than Catharine Wallace, the queen bee of the school.

Don't they feel embarrassed doing that in public?

Not judging or anything, maybe, kinda, sorry.