bad girls

19

Tori

I don't know why the hell I did that. But Tristan didn't seem to mind, so I guess I shouldn't mind either. He's really weird, though. He's cocky as hell but there is something fishy about him. Like there is something really wrong about him. Yes, he is a drug dealer, and yes he is a cocky son of a bitch. But there is something else. I guess I'll have to be around to find out.

When we enter the party, it is all I am used to. Red solo cups in every corner, beer pong, a bottle of every different liquor you can get in America. I look around and see people making out in every way possible. Boys and girls, boys and boys, and girls and girls. Drugs seem to be around everywhere. In the tables, the floor, the walls, the freaking ceiling. For fuck's sake! It seems like Tristan gets a lot of work in nights like this, though. The air around here could get you high just by breathing. But I like it, because this is what I'm used to. This is what I live for.

I turn to the girls and say, "This is what a party fucking looks like!" I lead them to the heart of the party, the kitchen. I pour myself a shot of vodka and drink it like it is holy water. Then, I turn around and all the girls are gone. Oh please! Fucking prudes. I shrug and chug down some more shots of vodka. Seven? Ten? Who cares?! I look for the ingredients to make a Martini when a certain drug addict brunette boy stops me.

"Hello, Tristan." I purr drunkly. Something worse than being high is being drunk.

"Hey beautiful. Why are you drinking alone?" He asks.

I just shake my head. I don't know why the hell I'm drinking alone. Before I can think of an excuse to get out of this situation, Tristan says, "Let's get out of here." I'm about to answer when I feel that I'm being dragged out of the kitchen.