Too Close [Wattys2015]

Chapter 8: Feelings Mutual

"What are we doing here?" I ask, stepping out of the car, getting beside him.

"What do you mean, we are crashing it!" He laughs.

"Yeah," I say. "A freaking party!"

"And?" He looks over at me, narrowed eyes playfully.

"A freaking college party! I see no people here that go to our school!"

"So?" He asks.

"So?!? Are you crazy, butt hurt jerk?" I ask.

"Slightly." He stares at me fully.

"I'm not going to a college party," I say as I grab the handle to the car.

He grabs my wrist. "Come on, cupcake, loosen up."

"I will loosen up." I say. "At home with Netflix."

He rolls his eyes. "Come on, let's go."

I groan. "No, jerk."

He groans. "Listen you only have one life, which means you have to live up to the fullest and this would be such a great story to tell your grandkids." He tells me. "Plus, most students at our school never get to crash a college party. Now, cupcake, will you please, please come to the party?"

"How do you know this place was having a party?" I ask.

"I heard some guys talking about it in the locker rooms- they were saying that they couldn't go. But they said the address and everything."

"Well okay then." I say. Gosh these people could be crazy murderers like I thought butt hurt jerk was. . . Or maybe he is with him- I need to get out of here.

I look away. "Do we have to?"

"Yes." He says, crossing his arms.

"If not?" I mimick his actions, crossing my arms.

"I'll carry you or just drag you, either way your are coming in there with me." He explains.

"I really, really dislike you." I grumble.

"Well, you can dislike me all you want, you can't deny that you don't love me." He smirks, dragging me towards the house full of blaring music.

"Don't be so cocky, butt hurt jerk, it doesn't suit you very well." I look around at the people stumbling up the big porch steps- drunk and laughing or crying.

I yank my wrist away from his huge hand, following him up the steps, passing drunk people.

"I swear if we get in trouble. . ." I warn.

"Yeah, yeah." He waves me off, opening the door like he owns the place- cocky butt hurt jerk.

We walk in, getting swallowed by dancing, drunk, making out, and who knows what else people.

"This is so-"

"Hiya!" A guy says, forehead beaded with sweat, two red cups in his hand. "Welcome to. . . Whoever's house this is! And I'm a server drink."

"You mean drink server?" I ask, looking at him closely. He is obviously drunk, eyes glossy and words starting to slur.

"Whatever!" He waves me off, shoving the cups the cups in our hands.

"Is this-?"

"Yes it is, cupcake." He smiles.

"Don't drink it!" I hit his drink and it falls with a thud.

"Why the heck!?!" He yells.

"They may have drugged that drink for all you know." I state.

The music is way too loud in the house, the house getting hot and stuffy.

"I doubt it." He says. "You are making this party lame."

"Well you shouldn't have invited me here!" I said.

"I figured you'd be fun. Guess not." He remarks.

I feel my face flush. "I-I can be fun!"

He rolls his eyes. "Prove it."

I press my lips tightly together, walking towards a cooler filled with drinks. I pull out a bottle of liquor, and shove it into his chest.

"Go ahead and drink it." I say. He looks at me, trying to read my expression.

"No, I gotta drive. You don't." He says.

"But you gotta deal with me." I say.

"Feelings mutual." He says, winking at me.

"Ouch." I mock being hurt, putting a hand over my heart.

"Just drink this," he wiggles the bottle of liquor, hearing the swishing of the liquid in the bottle from his wiggling.

That kind of sounded wrong.

"So you can kill me?" I laugh. "I'd rather not."

"Then what are we going to do?" He asks.

A girl and boy stand not far from us, I put on a fake voice. "Honey, what I think we should do is go back to our child instead of this party! You dragged me here anyway."

He catches on because he plays along. "Cookie, the baby is just fine with it's nanny Ben." The two people look our way, eyebrows scrunched together.

I shake my head. "Exactly! We've been married since we started high school and you can't remember our baby's name!" I exclaim. "And for one, the nanny is a forty-five year old man who sleeps the whole time- Billy Bob, our baby, is probably crying while the nanny is passed out." The two people look around the room, trying to not make it obvious that they are listening.

"Billy Bob needs to learn to be independent, anyway." Butt hurt jerk replies.

"I'm such an awful mom!" I fake cry.

"Baby pie, don't cry, you are a good mom." He soothes, hitting my back hard.

I stop crying, grinning. "I am a good mom! Let's go party!"

The two people stare at us wiry weird looks as we wall deeper into the crowd. We both laugh and joke about those people's faces.

"Phew, that was a good one." He says, running his fingers through his hair.

I laugh. "I know, honey!" I put my fake accent in again.

A guy bumps into me, causing me to fall to the ground.

"Oops. I'm sorry!" He holds out his hand to help me up. I get without grabbing his hand.

"It's okay." I say, waving his apology away.

The guy searches my face then butt hurt jerk's face.

He looks at us suspiciously. "You guys look a little young to be here, don't you think?"

Crap.