Muse. | Fionn Whitehead

11. Fruit Punch

I texted my dad a couple of hours ago, asking him if I can stay over at Elsie's tonight. I just left out the party part of the story. I mean, I'm not going for that reason, I'm going for the safety of my friends and Ronny's impulsiveness to drive even when intoxicated. Was there ever a time where teenagers didn't find the need to have that party experience? Probably not.

Sure, as long as Elsie's parents are okay with it. Text me when you get there, the text from my father reads.
I send him an okay and place my phone on my bed. I don't make an effort on trying to look good because I'm not going to impress anyone.
There is, perhaps, another reason as to why I'm going to this stupid party anyway.

The history of Bryan and I is long gone and I was 17 and stupid for liking this boy my junior year. He's 19 now and he's probably in his first year of college.
Maybe Ronny's right about saying he's matured, but I'm not giving him the benefit of the doubt. I never got to say what I needed to say  the last time I saw him and I feel that — maybe — this is the perfect opportunity.
We never dated, just clarifying that now. I just simply liked him and I thought he did too. I was infatuated by this tall, doe eyed boy that spoke with a lot of charm in his tone and I despise him for it. I didn't know the person beneath all of that, but I wish I did at the time. I do know now though, very much.

"You like me?" His voice echoed in my head and I nod, slowly.
"Oh," wasn't quite  the response I was looking forward to hear.

I shake my head to stop me from thinking about that night any further and throw a pair of   denim jeans and a black, loose, spaghetti-strapped top onto my bed.

After getting dressed, I take a look at myself in the mirror and shrug. I decide to leave my hair down because again, I could care less and I just want this night to be over. I grab my duffle bag and double check if I throughly packed my pajamas and toothbrush for the night. Finished, I head out the door.

In Ronny's car, I can feel the two of them silently judging my outfit and none of them chooses to say anything. I already agreed to going with them and that's why they're deciding to keep their mouths shut.
Elsie's wearing a red velvet bodycon dress that hugs her body and sometimes I envied her for not appreciating it enough.

"At least you have big boobs," Elsie praised me with a sigh, indicating the judgement of my outfit that I already assumed.

What are we, high school seniors, doing at a Monday house party you ask? I don't know, but my friends are party-crazed. It's an opportunity for them to meet, mingle, drink, or receive whatever else the night can offer them.
I'll just be in the background, hoping that the night would end sooner.

Going to a party #highschoollife I send the text to my stepbrother, Ced as a joke and he doesn't take it as that.

Ced
With whom?

As I'm about to respond to his text, my phone rings and I roll my eyes. "Yes?" I say after the first ring.

"Who are you going with?" He questions, his voice is so deep it scares me sometimes and it's like I'm talking to an uncle.

"Ronny and Elsie," I say calmly despite his tone. Ced is overprotective, but tries not to show it the best way possible. I know I can trust him though.

When I was 13, I broke one of my mother's vase while I was staying over at her and Sam's. I knew she would be pissed. Ced, at 20, was living with them at the time and helped me clean it up, then we went out to purchase a replacement just like it. Mom never knew the original vase she bought was shattered. Until today, that story stays between Ced and I.
I can't forget about last year, the most recent secret he's ever kept for me. Ced wanted to kill Bryan that same night I told him what happened, but I managed to keep him from doing so. He even warned me about being around Elsie and Ronny, but I told him that it was me to blame. I'm the one who got myself into that mess in the first place.