After fighting against a harsh childhood, Blake Wilson finally believes her life is normal. She seems happy living with her brother and foster parents. Blake hides her true feelings behind a mask of indifference, making it impossible for anyone to k...
Song: "Enter Sandman" by Metallica (Because I like a variety of different songs)
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"Come on, Blake! You won't regret this, it'll be fun."
My fingers paused mid-strum as I glanced up at London. She was laying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"You always say that," I retorted.
"But you always end up having fun when you get on the dance floor."
I rolled my eyes at her as I placed my guitar on the floor beside me. I couldn't come up with an argument because it was true.
"Fine." I sighed while getting up. I walked to my closet and pulled out a burgundy crop top and black high-waisted jeans. Once I changed and brushed out my straightened hair. It was hard to deal with curly hair so I liked to straighten it sometimes.
"I swear I'm jealous of you," London commented. "You look good in everything and you have the body of a goddess. It's so unfair."
I gave her a smile, "Come on, London. You know you're gorgeous."
She sent me a playful wink.
After doing my makeup, we headed downstairs.
"I'm going out!" I called out to my foster mother, Isabelle. She came out of the kitchen with an apron tied around her waist and her blonde hair tied up into a messy bun.
"But it's a school night."
"Don't worry. I won't stay out late and you know I don't drink."
She offered me a smile. "Okay, honey, but be careful."
I walked up to her and kissed her cheek. "Always."
London and I got into her car and headed to the location of the party. It was about fifteen minutes from my house. It was a pretty big house with a giant yard. There weren't many people on the front lawn. That meant that it wasn't going to get super crazy.
We walked up the path to the front door. The bass from the music rumbled, causing the walls to vibrate. People stood around the large foyer with cups in their hands. Most were talking to each other, or shouting in order to be heard over the music. I followed London to the kitchen. She grabbed herself a can of soda and an unopened bottle of water for myself.
"Thank you," I said as I unscrewed the lid and took a huge gulp of the cold water.
I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. People were chilling on the couches while some were dancing. I leaned against the wall, muttering the lyrics of the current song under my breath.
"Not your scene?" A deep, soothing voice asked from beside me, or more like shouted.
"Of course you're here," I mumbled before turning to face him. "I only come if I feel like dancing."
