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???
I'm woken up the next morning by someone jumping up and down on my bed. Without opening my eyes, I pull Gracie's ankle and she falls right on me.
"Fuck!" I yell out in pain, clutching my pulsing nose. "Like I haven't broken my nose enough times."
A disgruntled Gracie rights herself and sits down next to me. "Don't yank people's ankles then, dumbass," she says matter of factly.
"How about next time you just wake me up nicely? What time is it anyway?" I ask through a yawn.
"Nine. I have big plans for us today," she chirps, practically jumping up and down with excitement.
"Shouldn't you be in school?"
"Did you hit your head or something? It's Saturday, you tool. Get dressed. You have ten minutes!" she exclaims, ruffling my hair. The door slams shut behind her and I groan. I guess I know what I'm doing today.
I grab my phone and unlock it to see tens of angry text messages, but I only care about a few of them, including the ones from my furious girlfriend describing her strong distaste with my decision to run off without a goodbye.
I let out another groan and send a group message to let them all know I'm okay. I guess I could have been a bit more considerate. Especially with Ava, but I can't. Not until I figure things out.
With a sigh, I get ready quickly before Gracie rushes me even more. I knock on her door and pull it open. The strong, potent smell of perfume makes me sneeze as soon as I enter the small, pink room. Pink? I look around her newly decorated room and raise my eyebrows. It looks like a barbie threw up here. Gracie has never liked the colour pink. This is so weird.
I lean against the door frame and watch as she dabs makeup on her face at her vanity. "When did you paint your walls pink?"
She turns around with a hopeful smile. "During Christmas break. Do you like it?"
"Oh yeah, sure," I lie. "It's really...bright."
"I know, right?" she chimes and leads the way downstairs. "Mom, we're going out!" Gracie yells when we reach the bottom of the stairs.
"Have fun, be back by dinner!" Mom calls from the kitchen and is rewarded with an eye roll from Gracie.
???
As Gracie and I were on our way out of the mall, we were bombarded by Andre. After receiving a lecture about not telling him I was in town. He invited me to a party that he's throwing tonight, no surprise there. I refused at first, but I've never been able to say no to my best friend.
He now greets me at his front door with a crooked grin. He's in his typical douche attire: khaki pants and a white polo.
"Hey, buddy, the whole team decided to come out to see you!" Andre shouts over the loud music blaring from the speakers scattered around the packed living room.
The potent smell of sweat and pot is enough to make my stomach twist. For such a small house, Andre has never had a problem fitting hundreds of people in here. Not even the multiple visits from the police and their warnings to keep it down have stopped him—or even phased him, for that matter.
"Awesome, it's been a while!" I shout back as I look curiously around the room. The flashing lights make it hard to make out the faces we walk past. I can already feel the beads of sweat drip down my neck, and my heart hammers against my chest.
Well this is bringing back memories I would have liked to stay forgotten.
Andre slips away, leaving me to remember the names of half of the people here—a task that I am not cut out for. The music drops suddenly, and his voice blares from a microphone plugged into the main speaker.
"My boy is back in town! Let's give him a big welcome!" He winks at me, waves at a few girls, and drops the mic.
The music returns all too loudly as he approaches me again, and I groan. Annoyance is written clearly on my face as I shove his shoulder lightly. "You know I don't like attention, you prick."
"Oh, loosen up, Lee. Let's get you a drink," he says and drags me over to a bar area before I can protest. Andre gets two red cups and fills them both up with a brown liquid. He hands me one and I take it from him with a shrug.
Someone bashes into my back and the drink spills down the front of my hoodie. I turn to see a blonde girl about my age giggling beside me, trying to keep herself upright.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that," she slurs, her cheeks flushed. I sidestep around her and glare at Andre. I am not in the mood for this shit.
"It's okay, beautiful. You don't mind, do you, Oakley?" he asks smoothly, shamelessly flirting with the drunken girl. He slinks an arm around her waist and squeezes. I tense and eye his arm warily.
