Blue // Daniel Seavey

Chapter 4

Tori

Do you think I'm going to go through the effort of putting make-up on and a nice dress for a high school party? Hell no. I'm not about that life. Instead, I throw on a pair of blue ripped jeans with a simple off-the-shoulder top. When it comes to dressing, I'm plain, and I like it that way because then it means I don't get any attention. And by now, we all know I hate attention.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I contemplate whether I should make more of an effort in my appearance. I look at my honey-brown eyes that are slightly too large for my face, my dark eyebrows that are kind of too thick, and my lips that are a tiny bit too big.

Maybe I should curl my hair? My hair is golden brown and naturally waved, but not curly, ending about half-way down my back. I only ever make the effort to curl it for special occasions. Should I?

No, we'll just leave it.

Deciding I shouldn't waste my efforts on a teenage party, I quickly throw on a pair of black vans, grab my keys to my exceptionally small car, and exit my bedroom.

"Mom, Dad, I'm leaving!" I shout as I unlock the front door, trying to get out as soon as possible.

"Hey, Tori, come here first!" My mom shouts back from the kitchen. Sighing heavily, I turn around and make my way over to her.

"What's up?" I ask, leaning against the kitchen door. My mom and dad are sat down at the table, a mug of coffee in both of their hands - a very common routine between the two of them.

"You know you need to be home by eleven, Tori. Don't drink, especially because you're driving. Be careful, and do not let any boys do anything to you," my mom demands, her wide eyes sending me one of those 'or else I'll wring your neck' looks.

Not even needing to hear these obvious obligations, I simply nod.

"Yeah, Tori." My father cuts in. "That's where all your self-defense classes come into use. If anyone tries anything," he makes gestures with his arms, punching the air, "hit 'em straight in the balls." He raises a thick black brow. "Got it?"

"Yes, Dad." I smile, shaking my head. "You don't need to worry, guys. You know I'm a very responsible child. Very."

"Yeah, we know," my mother says, rolling her eyes, before dashing me one last smile. "Have fun, sweetie."

"Thank you, I'll try!" I answer enthusiastically, turning away and walking out the front door, getting the hell out of here before I'm given any further futile instructions.

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The throbbing music pulses loudly in my ears. As soon as I take three steps into the house, a red cup is placed in my hands by a complete randomer. Curious as to what it is, I bring the cup up to my nose and inhale, before the rancid smell of the strong liquid fills my nostrils. Ew.

Whose house is this? How can a normal teenager that attends our shitty school have parents that can afford a place like this? It's so big. Scanning my eyes across the whole scene, I see large crowds of people filling the area, some young, some quite mature-looking. There's a massive group of them dancing and jumping to the loud music, some others gulping alcoholic drinks down their necks, and a few couples swallowing each other's tongues. Charming. This is exactly why I don't like coming to these type of scenes.

"What are we supposed to do?" Corbyn screams loudly into my ear, as this music is too freakin' loud to hear a bomb explode.

"Just walk around, dance, chat with some people, I don't know," I shrug, having to shout over the music also. "Here, take this. I can't drink 'cause I'm driving." I pass him the red cup with the mysterious liquid inside it, and with excitement in his eyes, Corbyn almost brings it to his lips.