Lost in time G.D E.D

68

For me, most parties sucked.

It usually consisted of people staying glued to their phones, taking videos of things they'd regret the next day, awkward selfies looking high as hell, blasting some whiny singer being drowned out by electronically-created instruments, a group of guys daring each other to drink different concoctions and brews, and some girl wandering aimlessly throughout the party while holding her shoes and asking everyone where her friends went. 

I had a tad bit more hope for the 90's, but the night was still young. 

Tyler and I got out of the car in front of the giant house in a snow-blanketed suburb.

I could hear the beat of a hip-hop song vibrating through the bricks and onto the sidewalk.

"Do you think her neighbors will call the cops?" I asked, looking up at the house. 

Tyler shook his head.

"Nah, Sammy throws these parties every time her parents are out of town, which is pretty much always," he said walking up to her house.

"You coming?" He called over his shoulder. 

I took a breath and followed after him.

He knocked on the door, and Sammy  answered, a cheery smile on her face.

"Hey, Brad," she gushed, holding a red cup in her hand. She looked at me.

"Hey...you," she greeted with the absence of my name, not caring I was there.

I have a sarcastic smile."

"Yeah Hi, Sammy." 

"Come on in," she said, closing the door behind us.

"You can put your coats wherever."  I looked around at what seemed to be most of the jocks, preps, and popular kids from school.

Okay, this was sort of a good thing.

Yes, it might be intimidating, but I did have an advantage.

I was Tyler's friend, so this gave me a little street credit. But also, they didn't know me yet.

I had a chance to start over.

And chances are, if they figured that I was invited to this party, they'll assume that I must be 'someone.' And I could use some friends in high places of status for strategic reasons. 

Wait what am I talking about?

Fucking death making me think I'm staying here forever.

The party reeked of the 90's teenager.

Uncontrollable mix of hormones?

Check.

Lots of tasteful plaid?

Check.

House-party vibe?

Check. 

I wondered how the hell Sammy managed to invite this many people without the help of Facebook

I guess gossip really does spread if you need to get the invites out. I imagined her passing out printed flyers for the party with her address on it,

and then I thought about how cheesy that sounded by my own time's standards. The flyers most likely promised alcohol, which would get most students' attention.

I wondered if they called up each other on the phones Bye Bye Birdie style to spread the word. 

I glanced around the rooms.