Pieces of Me

Chapter Seven

Logan

I know she's cheating on me – again, but I can't even conjure the effort to call her a bitch. Or to care. I watch her out of the corner of my eye, her lips are pulled into a large, bright, white smile. But her laugh is too loud, and it echoes in my ears even from afar. It's actually a really ugly sound. Poor asshole who will have to listen to that for the rest of his life.

Her hand rests on some drunk ass guys arm. She's always been flirty, so I'm not surprised. I lift my drink to my lips and the unadulterated bourbon burns my throat. I welcome the sting.

The party goes on around me, but I don't feel like engaging with any of the people here.
I don't even know what I'm doing at this party. All I know is Bridget got angry at me for no reason and told me not to come. So of course, I did.
The only other thing I do know is that I don't love her. Love is for idiots. Although at least she helps me forget, if just for a little while. But I guess even that wasn't real.
Mostly I'm pissed that no asshole had the guts to tell me she's been fucking people behind my back. So called "friends"... this is why I don't give a shit about anyone, because the reality is, no one gives a shit about you.

I take another long, deep drink from my red cup.
As I pull the cup away, that girl comes into my view - the one who is both Bridget and Andrew's friend. She stumbles slightly through the door . Her deep brown eyes are large, and her smile is bright. She's very clearly intoxicated. Normally drunk woman annoy me, but there's something about her that stops me from cringing. She's seems so free and alive, compared to the girl I met the other day. The red dress she's wearing clings to her in all the right ways and I have to look away.
It's as if she hears my thoughts because suddenly she looks up, her eyes meeting mine. A stunning smile plays on her lips, and a light blush colours her cheeks.
Suddenly the guy behind her reaches for her hand, and she breaks eye contact to look at him. She laughs sweetly and lifts her hand up to his chest, pushing him back before grabbing his cap and placing it on her head. The second gesture stirs something within me, but I can't put a name on it.

My drunken mind plays through our previous encounters. This girl, she's the more innocent of Bridget's friends, which is oddly endearing. People call the group 'The Mean Girls' behind their back, as a reference to the movie. It's juvenile, stupid and makes me roll my eyes, but it's not all together wrong. You just have to take a look at the four of them. I hated high school even when I was in it.
I continue to watch her, as she laughs at this dipshit's jokes.
The interaction shakes some more memories loose....images of us in middle school, both shy in school but then messaging on MSN. How did I forget that?
My thoughts are briefly interrupted as she twirls around, doing God knows what.
How did I not realise how beautiful she is? Like really fucking beautiful.
Unlike other girls, her face isn't caked in makeup and I'd bet $100, unlike Bridget, her nipple isn't pierced either. A girl has a right to do what she likes with her body of course, but now I'm thinking about her topless, her soft tan skin on mine.
I throw back more alcohol. The more alcohol the less it burns. Her hair is brunette, long, framing her face. No fancy styled cut just long and tidy, but it's her eyes that I can't look away from. Her eyes are a dark brown, the depth in them seems incomprehensible. But really, it's the way the dark and gentle combine which has me captivated. Then again, maybe I'm just realllly drunk.
Yet I get a strange feeling in my gut as I watch as the guy follows Anna... no Ashley, I think..like a drunk puppy into the kitchen.
Looking around I realise that Bridget and the three guys have also left. To stop myself from looking for any of them – I grab the bottle of bourbon from the table next to me and skull it. The liquid lights up my insides instantly, making me forget about Bridget cheating on me in the next room, and the quiet brunette who has suddenly invaded my thoughts.
With one hand I slam the bottle onto the table, with the other I wipe my mouth with the back of my sleeve. Fuck it all.