The Party

"If I left now, would anyone even care or notice?"

What a sad thought. At only 18 I had managed to completely isolate myself from everyone else. But I still have the gall to show up to other's parties. "No, you're only here because you want to look out for your sister." I told myself. As long as she doesn't get hurt, the awkward corner is worth it. Plus, I need a pick-me-up after last week.

Jesus, what would mom think of me now? Holding a red cup as if I'm going to drink the bitter liquid inside, hoping to catch the attention of someone when deep down, I still love someone else. Is this the way she would've wanted me to turn out in my senior year?

I made my way to the driveway for some fresh air, and a break from the flashing lights. A boy, Alex, was holding his girlfriends hair back while she vomited into the bushes. How disgusting. I'm only saying that because I'm jealous. Jealous they're having fun, jealous they have each other, jealous that they're happier than me.

Why did I think I would be fine after only a week? I knew I wouldn't, not after everything we did together. But that's what happens when they prize something over you. I took my phone out of my pocket. I needed to talk to someone. As I scrolled, I lingered on Oliver's. The phone seemed to take a new weight. Should I? Would he want to talk to me?

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, OUR ONE AND ONLY OLIVER PIERCE!"