What is Written

Chapter 7

Scarlett's eyes meet mine, and I feel my stomach drop. I begin to question why I feel that way, but soon the questionable feeling is replaced with anger as I remember the event that happened today.

She looks away from me and focuses her attention back on her friends. I don't look away, though. I can't. She looks.. different. Her hair is down more, her clothes are more casual, and her makeup isn't all there. I eye her as she makes conversation with the prissy brunette that let us in. I can tell she isn't all that interested, because she keeps smiling and nodding without saying anything.

Why is she even here? Isn't she like, older then all of us? She has a masters degree in psychology, or whatever the hell she took, so that makes her at least two years older then me. Plus, she dresses older, too. Who the hell wears jeans and a t-shirt to a party? Not that it looks bad on her, it actually looks good. Her black v-neck is tight on her, and I bite my lip as I eye her appearance.

"Hayden?" I hear someone call my attention. I turn to see Rachel, her hands grabbing my wrist.

"What do you want?" I fire at her. She's so goddamn annoying.

"I just wanted you to get a drink with me, is that okay?" She asks. I glance over at Scarlett, and she's now fully engaged in a conversation with another guy.

"Sure," I give in, and I turn on my heel to enter the kitchen. I don't bother waiting for Rachel, she can follow behind me. I hear Ryder ask where I am going, but I choose to ignore him and keep walking away.

As I enter the kitchen, I notice that it's completely trashed. Empty cups are everywhere, surrounded by bottles of countless names of alcohol. I nearly have to hold my damn breathe as I wait for Rachel to pour herself another cup, it smells that bad. It doesn't seem to bother her, though, because she's laughing at nothing as she picks the Hennessy and pours it into an empty cup.

"That's enough," I grab the bottle away from her as she pours it nearly half way. She's insane.

"Hey, you can't take that away from me," she frowns at me and puts her hand on her hip like a child.

"Yes, I can. You had too much to drink already, take it easy." As I speak I realize I do sound like a goddamn dad. Whatever, I don't care. At least I'm not some drunken asshole, wasted out of my mind without any common sense. I'm done doing that shit, plus my hangovers were so bad, I don't even think I can handle another one.

"I'll be in the living room," I tell her, and before she has a second to answer, I dart away. I can't stand the smell anymore, and as much as I don't want to admit it, I want to see what Scarlett is doing in there. She doesn't seem like the type of person to be here, granted I've only met her once, barely, I can still tell her and parties don't usually sit well together.

I enter the crowded room and I begin to look for her, but her place on the couch she was just sitting at is empty. I was only gone for a few seconds, where could she possibly have gone? I look around me, but all I see is random people I could care less about. Gunner is completely gone, I have no idea where that asshole went, but I honestly couldn't care less. Ryder is still involved in some conversation with the group sitting on the couch, and I'm left uninterested.

"Have you seen that blonde girl, anywhere?" I ask the a random girl that the brunette introduced us to. She looks up at me with a smile.

"Who, Scarlett?" She asks, a bit louder then necessary. I nod my head and she stands from the couch, "She went upstairs."

Upstairs? Why would she go upstairs?

"Why?" I ask her eagerly. She notices, and she's slightly caught off guard.