Geeks, Punks, and Pick-Up Trucks

Chapter 1

Music thumps from outside the bedroom door. There is laughter and singing and I can practically hear the sloshing of beer being illegally downed by minors. I don't know why I agreed to come to this mess of a party in the first place. Rather than dancing with my best friend and getting drunk off my behind, I'm locked in a guest room with a book between my legs instead of a guy, and a pen behind my ear for taking notes.

I wonder how many people think I'm doing...things. Like, inappropriate things. I, Sarah Daniels, am not exactly that kind of girl. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But maybe people don't really know that I'd prefer to be hidden away in a locked bedroom reading than out partying with everyone else.

Finding I'm suddenly distracted by the idea of other people spoiling my reputation, I pack my book and pen back into my messenger bag, slinging it over my shoulder and leaving the bedroom. I glance at the blue watch on my wrist, seeing the time is past 11. I work my way around the house, searching for a pretty blonde girl, a prettier girl with dark, curly hair and skin the color of ground coffee, and a boy who is the male version of me, plain Jane looks and all. My three best friends: Lola, Melanie, and Matty, respectively.

I spot Lola with her mouth attached to a boy just as pretty as she is (and just as drunk). I wrench her away and drag her alongside me. She's an angel when she's sober but after hours she's a total party girl. Because of her tendencies to go a little "girls gone wild" she's often pegged as an idiot blonde, but she's got the top GPA in the school district and she's on her way to valedictorian of Kennedy High School.

Melanie is standing by the door when she sees us. She's a stubborn girl but she's the greatest. Even though she refuses to drink, she always gives Lola a little help with her hair when she's bowing to the porcelain throne after a few drinks of whatever. Lola's a little bit of a lightweight but that doesn't stop her from having fun. She knows her limits, and when she forgets, Melanie's there to remind her. A poor guy is trying to flirt with the beautiful Melanie Jackson, completely unaware that she is only interested in the well being of animals. She sees me and Lola and blows him off, walking towards us.

"Sarah, have you seen Matty?" She asks. Partially due to constant years of unwanted attention, her voice is almost always a flat, uninterested tone unless the conversation goes in the way of protecting manatees and Bengal tigers.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing." I respond, grasping Lola's hand so she won't wander off like a lost puppy. She pulls me in the direction of the punch, which I know has been spiked with something, probably vodka or tequila. "Lola, we're going home. No more drinks for you."

We know we've got to sober her up a little by tomorrow but right now, we're counting on Matty to not crash us into a tree because he's intoxicated. Neither Mel nor I feel like driving and I don't exactly know how.

She leads the way as I pull Lola with me towards the back of the house and to the big yard that has teenagers strewn everywhere. She spots a brown mop of hair that towers over most of the others and points us in that direction. "Matty!" Melanie calls and the head turns to face us. He looks bored and it's pretty clear he's not drunk because he rolls his eyes at the boys who are funneling beer into their mouths.

"Hey, ladies. Please say we're ready to go."

I nod, and Matty adds, "But don't let her puke in my car."

"She's not gonna puke in your car unless Sarah drives." Melanie replies.

"I'm not that bad." I defend myself.

"You are." Lola giggles.

"We're all going back to my place." I say, changing the subject. "Matty, you're welcome to join us if you're willing to not leave any trace you've ever been inside my house."

I live with my mom and her unborn child. Her boyfriend, Evan, doesn't live with us even though he knocked her up and thinking about it grosses me out. Anyway my mom doesn't want me pregnant too so there's a strict "No Boys" policy in the house, especially when she's on business trips like today.

Before we can make our way to the front of the house, Matty is pulled aside by Philip Palmson, one of the most popular boys in school. "Matt, can we get a ride?" He slurs. The boy is gorgeous. He's blonde and blue eyed and dumber than a bag of rocks. He's not a jerk, like some of the popular guys, and his stupidity is endearing, but he's not my cup of tea.

"It's cool with me if it's okay with the girls." Matty replies. I nod again. I don't mind at all as long as I get home and don't have to talk to them. Parties make me anxious enough as it is, but add boys that aren't Matty to the picture and it's downright emotionally exhausting. Mel and Lola give their okay, though Lola's is more of a slurred agreement. We make our way back to the front of the house. Isabella Reslin tells us goodbye as we leave but I'm sure she barely recognizes us, much less remembers inviting us to her ridiculous house party.

Matty unlocks his minivan (his mom had 4 kids that all grew up and left her with an old car and a 17 year old son) and hops in the front. Philip calls shotgun, so me and the girls squeeze in the back, making sure Lola buckles up. A handsome boy with black hair and tired eyes gets in and then the last person I would ever expect follows and closes the door.

Miles Birch. Green hair and all. His black jacket and skinny jeans give him a messy look, but it's as if he's meant it to be that way. He hasn't touched up his hair in a while and blond roots peek from his scalp. He's really handsome in a quirky punk rock way and he catches me staring. I look at my hands and will myself not to blush.

I knew Matty was popular. Average looks open more doors for men than for women. He's in the nerd girl's league and he's cool enough for the popular ones to like his company. I had no idea he was friends with people like Miles, who was infamous at Kennedy High School for his antics. Everyone knows who he is and everyone was afraid of him except his friends.

Matty pulls away from the party. Mel's half asleep and Lola's already snoring. There's small talk but I don't join. Neither does Miles.

It appears my home is the closest. Matty pulls into my driveway, I wake Lola and Mel, and we climb out.

"Does your offer still stand?" Matty asks from the drivers seat. I raise an eyebrow to signify my confusion.

"Can we come in for a bit?" He clarifies. "We won't leave a trace of evidence we were here."

I glance at Melanie and Lola who seem unresponsive, so I nod, making brief, awkward, eye contact with Miles. What's the worst that could happen? Matty hardly ever has bad ideas. I figure I can deal with a little while of getting to know Matty's eclectic group of friends.

"Come on, then." I gesture towards the door.