Dear Meggie

November 1st, 2012

November 1st, 2012

 

Dear Meggie,

There is a lot to talk about. And I don’t know if I like it, either.

The night of the party, I never went home. I just hung out with you after school. You gave me something to wear, even though it was just a little bit too big for me, since I’m shorter than you. And then we headed off to the party.

As soon as we pulled up to the party, I knew I shouldn’t have come. The were flashing lights throughout the lawn, and bottles clashing with one another, and people falling over on the lawn. You had said we were supposed to come late, or else the party would just be dull. We walked up to the front door.

Skeeter answered it. “Well hello theeere, ladiesss,” he slurred at us.

You laughed a perfect laugh. “Hey, Skeeter.” I wiggled my fingers at him, and gave a small smile. “Would you mind letting us in?”

“Of cooooourse,” he said, and swung his body backwards. I followed you into the house.

I was instantly surrounded by crappy pop music, and laughing, and shouting, and clinking of bottles, and gulping of drinks, and dancing of girls, and creaking of floors. It was everything I could have thought of.

I noticed one of the girls dancing on the table to be Sarah. She had her eyes set on Trevor Newman, and he certainly had his eyes on her. I couldn’t help but slightly say under my breath, “Slut.” That earned a “stop it right now” look from you.

“Hey, Harley-”

“It’s Harriett,” I corrected.

“Whateveeer, have a drink, Harriett!” said Skeeter.

“I’m fine.”

“Party-pooper,” he mumbled, or at least I think that’s what he was trying to do. It came out as shouting.

I turned back to see you. You had disappeared. I heard a “Chug! Chug! Chug!” from the living room and followed the noise. There was you, chugging down a bottle of vodka, right in front of Will. It was a bit embarrassing to watch you do, and for once, you didn’t look so perfect.

I heard giggling coming from the steps, and turned around to see Kelly walking down the stairs with Matt, her shirt falling off of her body, while Matt’s shirt was completely off.

“Kelly, what the hell are you doing?” I hissed at her.

“Havin’ a greaaat time with, erm, Craigg!” she slurred at me. I shot a look at Matt. He didn’t look drunk at all.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Matt?” I asked.

“Matt?” Kelly asked, confused.

“She was drunk, she won’t remember anything. Not like Craigg’ll ever know,” he said. “He wasn’t invited.”

“This is wrong, Matt,” I said. “She thinks you’re Craigg!”

“Doesn’t matter, Harriett,” he said. “If you say a word of this to anyone, I swear, I’ll kill you. Not even to Kelly.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” I said. “Your problem now. Hey, Kelly, why don’t you, um…,” I paused looking for something. I spotted some water from the table. I grabbed it, and gave it to her. “Here, take some of this and go take a nap upstairs. Got it?”

“Party-pooper over here!” she yelled, and dropped the glass onto the ground. She then began to make out furiously with Matt. I shook my head and walked back over to where you were, until Skeeter interjected. He put his lips against mine without warning, and the sour taste of vodka spread across my mouth. I pushed him away with as much might as I could.