It's really quite weird, to be "popular" in high school, when you hate parties and sleeping sounds better than any bottle of alcohol. I guess that's why I feel out of place when I show up to parties where most people are either wasted or hooking up with somebody very, um, publicly. Because as of right now, I've done neither. Despite how often I think about doing so, I've never drank, and no, I haven't had my first kiss.
This is an awkward situation to be in at 15, being considered popular and invited to parties.
I guess I don't really need the alcohol though, because I normally just feel numb all of the time. I feel sad and I feel angry but mostly I just feel like going back to bed. I didn't even want to go to that party, really.
Man am I glad I did.
"LLIIIVVV!" I wasn't even in Emma's backyard yet and I already wanted to go home from the sight of drunk guys yelling my name. Well, on my school papers I write Lauren Livingston, but everyone calls me Liv.
I opened the door into Em's cabana and got smacked across the face with the smell of alcohol. God I hate the stuff. I wonder if I'll ever understand it, why we waste our teenage years drunk of our asses, saying things we don't mean to people we won't remember in 4 years. Except me, I say things that I do mean, to the wrong people, who I'll always remember because that's what happens with a photographic memory, but I just do it sober.
There's the kid in the corner, Jake, his dad killed himself two days ago.
YOU ARE READING
Alive
Teen FictionWhat do you do when you have no reason to keep going? Just when I had given up all hope, I found him. Turns out he had already given up. We both ended up giving in.
