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Loud rock music blared through the house. I don't even know how the music was even playing. Someone might have brought a boom box or something. I don't know. Billy returned to my side with a drink in each hand. "Here," He smirks. "It's brandy and liquor. A birthday tradition." "That's a tradition I can get behind," I smile, taking one of the cups. I take a school huge sip of the liquid, and scrunch my face up in disgust. "Whoa whoa, take it easy, babygirl." He takes the cup from my hand. "Getting you shit-faced is not part of the tradition." "It should be," I take the cup back. "Let me have fun, Billy!" "Saturday Night's Alright" byElton John comes on the speakers and I grin widely. "This is my song!" I say, starting to dance with the large crowd. Billy shakes his head but joins in on the fun. He sets his drink down and dances with me, his hands on my hips the entire time. We dance until I decide I need another drink. "Where are you going?" Asks Billy. "To... get another drink," I slur. I'm a little tipsy. "No, I think you've had enough." He grabs my wrist. "Don't tell me what to do." I pull out of his grasp and walk to the kitchen. "Hey Whitley!" A few of my school friends greet me. "Heeey," I drunkenly wave to them. I stumble over to the punch bowl. "Is this stuff spiked?" I ask Tammy Thompson. "Hell yeah it is," she grins before walking over to a group of her friends. "Sounds good to me," I smirk. I grab the ladle to pour the punch into my cup. I realize that I've poured too much into the cup a little later than I should have. The punch falls onto my legs and the floor. "Whoa there," a girl with short light brown hair and freckles comes to my rescue. "Are you okay?" "I'm fiiine. It only got on my legs. Thank god I'm wearing a skirt." I slur all of my words. The girl grabs a few paper towels and helps wipe the punch off of my legs and the floor. "Thank you," I say. "No problem," she smiles. "I'm... Robin." "I'm Whitley," I drunkenly smile. "I know," Robin says. "You're kind of popular." I dramatically frown. "Am not." She chuckles. "To us band geeks you are." "I can't be popular if I'm new here," I tell her. "Plus, don't tell anyone, but I'm kind of a loser." I drunkenly whisper. She laughs. "You're not a loser." "Am too." "Are not." "Am n-" I stop mid-sentence when someone pulls me back. I look up to see Billy with an annoyed expression on his face. "Let go of me," I squeeze out of his grasp. "I was trying to talk to Robin." I step back over to her. "Actually, I think I'm gonna have some of that punch." I drunkenly grin and start pouring a cup. Billy snatched out of my hand. "You've had enough, Whitley." He says firmly. A crowd starts to form around us. "You're not my dad," I take the cup back. "And even if you were, you couldn't be, because he's dead. Because they-" "Whitley!" Steve comes out of nowhere and presses his palm over my lips so I can't say anymore. "Stoptalking." He says seriously. "Get your hands off of her, Harrington." Billy growls. Steve looks at me once more before letting go of me and moving a few steps back. "You both are such assholes." I say drunkenly before drinking the contents in my cup. Billy immediately grabs me by the wrist and pulls me to my room. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Billy demands angrily. "No, what the hell is wrong with you?" I say. "I'm just trying to have a good time, but you have to control me the whole time!" "Because you're being stupid." He growls. "Am I?" I scoff. "You used to get shit-faced at parties all the time! How is this any different?" "Because I was being self destructive then!" He shouts. "I used to sleep with girls every party I went to and do upside down keggers to avoid the shit I was feeling because of my dad. That made me an asshole. So excuse me for trying to keep you from ending up like me!" "Well I don't have an abusive dad like you, so what the hell do i have to worry about?" I shout back. His face turns into a hurt expression. "Fuck you." He says before turning to leave. I sit down on my bed and run my fingers through my hair. I just fucked up bad.
The next morning I wake up filled with regret. Billy probably hates me right now. I get up from bed and step out into the hallway. The house is dirty as hell. There are red solo cups, both clean and dirty, literally everywhere. I walk to the kitchen. Well, at least everyone took the leftover alcohol. I have no idea how I would've gotten rid of all of that. It takes me around two hours to clean everything as it was before. I take a shower after I'm done cleaning and get ready to walk to Billy's house. I have to apologize. I put on a sweater and jeans and start the long walk. Thirty minutes or so later, I reach his house. I knock on the front door and wait with my hands in my pockets. There is loud rock music blaring from inside. When there's no answer, I knock again. "Goddammit." I hear from inside, then footsteps walking towards the door. Billy opens the door, shirtless and sweaty. "What do you want?" He asks, emotionless. "Billy..." I feel tears brimming in my eyes. "I am so, so sorry. I shouldn't have ever said what I said. I'm such a... im such a shitty person for saying that." He presses his lips together as he looks back at me. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I... just had to apologize. I mean, I fucked everything up... your birthday, our relationship-" I stop myself as I realize that I'm crying. "I-I'm sorry. I'll just... go." As I walk back down the steps, tears falling down my face. "Whitley." He calls me. I turn around, wiping tears from my face. "Y-yeah?" "Come here." He says. I go back to him and he pulls me into his arms. "I forgive you," he says and kisses my forehead.
