Upon returning inside my house, I quickly assessed that my mom hadn’t returned yet, which was fine.  I hadn’t even been gone that long, really.  I jogged up the stairs, heading to my room.  Grabbing my phone off my desk where I had left it before my walk, I saw that I had a text from Lydia saying to come over whenever I was ready. 

It was still really early, but Lydia always liked Haley and I to come over early whenever she had parties.  Their motto was usually something along the lines of the earlier you start drinking, the better.  It used to be mine, too, actually, but tonight I had no desire to drink.  When I turned into such a bum, I didn’t know, but I suspected it had everything to do with Harry. 

I texted Lydia back saying I just had to get ready quickly before coming over, hoping to appease her.  I wondered how much I could get away with drinking tonight.  Or, not drinking, really.  After changing into a more party-appropriate outfit and putting on some make up, I gathered up my over night stuff. 

Sleepovers were an unspoken rule to parties; whenever there was a party, Lydia, Haley and I would have a sleep over to revel in the drunken memories of the night.  Sending a quick text to my mother, I explained that I was going over to Lydia’s for girl’s night and that I would be back in the morning.  It was almost the truth. 

When I arrived at Lydia’s, it quickly became clear that I would not be able to get away with not drinking much.  Entering the kitchen, my eyes widened taking in the vast assortment of alcohol scattered around.  Jello shots, jungle juice, some frothy pink drink in a watermelon, and bottles upon bottles of liquor decorated the countertops.  My jaw dropped open.  There was enough alcohol here to get the entire school drunk, even more so when you took into account the countless beers that were stacked in the fridge. 

Lydia’s parents were very wealthy, and their house boasted to that fact.  Huge, open, and impeccably furnished, it was the type of house I would never dare to throw a party in, much less as often as Lydia did, which was nearly every weekend.  Her parents took the approach that they’d rather she and her friends drink safely in their own home, under their supervision, than sneak off to a random house and do god knew what.  This being the case, I was still surprised when her mother strolled into the kitchen, smiling at me as if we weren’t surrounded by enough alcohol to kill a small fleet of sailors. 

“Hello, Joey dear,” she purred.  Lydia’s mom was the stereotypical wealthy mom- extremely fit for her age, botoxed perfectly, never a hair out of place.  She even had the fake boobs.  Despite her semi-fake looking appearance, she was actually really nice, always welcoming Lydia’s friends into her home, being more than gracious when it came to throwing parties. 

“Hello, Helen,” I responded politely.  “How are you?”

“Oh I’m fine, thank you sweetheart.  Ready for tonight?” she replied excitedly, handing a jello shot to me. 

“Guess I better be,” I joked, accepting it.  Lydia and her mom cheered, each grabbing a jello shot for themselves before eating it.  I followed suit, not even tasting the alcohol hidden in the fruity flavor.  We had just thrown down three more jello shots each when Haley entered the kitchen, arriving early just as I had, just as we usually did.  She smiled at me, once again acting as if nothing was wrong.  If she was going to smile and be pleasant, then so was I.  I didn’t want to get into anything tonight, anyway. 

Lydia’s mom excused herself while Lydia started playing music, getting herself psyched up for her party.  She insisted that we all try one drink of everything she and her mom had prepared.  While admittedly the drinks were all delicious, they were extremely potent.  To say I was sufficiently drunk by the time the first people started to arrive was an understatement.  While others showed up slightly buzzed from whatever pregame they had attended, I had already drank more than I needed to last the entire night. 

By the time the party was in full swing, I had managed to find myself a seat at a table where games were being played.  My drink, which I was slowly nursing, sat relatively ignored in front of me.  I could feel my eyes glazing over as I stared at nothing, mind wandering more and more to what Harry was doing, wanting only to be with him.  The party was fun, and it was good to see my friends, but my heart wasn’t in it, despite being hopelessly drunk at a relatively early time.  A burst of laughter across the table woke up my fuzzy brain.  Blinking furiously a few times, I finally focused on the source: Haley, Lydia, and Jack sat across from me, laughing loudly at whatever had been said.   I smiled drunkenly, pretending like I had heard. 

Suddenly a loud crash sounded from in the kitchen, causing everybody’s heads to whip toward the sound, including my own.  Above a pile of broken glass stood Colt, hands thrown in the air as if surprised, shocked look on his face quickly being replaced by one of amusement.

“Whoops,” he said, looking sheepishly over at Lydia.

“Damnit, Colt,” she huffed, heaving herself up from her seat to go and clean up the mess.  I stood up as well, feeling like I should try to help.  While Lydia dug a small broom and dustpan out of a cupboard and started sweeping, I stood over her, watching, completely useless in my drunken state.  Colt took my proximity as a cue to start talking to me.  Everyone else had fled the kitchen in fear of stepping on broken glass.

“Looking good tonight, Joey,” he said, glancing up and down my frame sluggishly.

I tried not to wrinkle my nose in disgust.  “Thanks.”

“No, really.  Damn,” he elaborated, eyes lingering on my body before winking at me.  I was unable to suppress a shudder as I just stared back at him.  “So what’s this shit I hear about you and that Styles kid?” he spat suddenly, sneer dominating his usually handsome face. 

“None of your damn business, that’s what,” I replied harshly, making sure not to slur my words. 

“Oh really?  ‘Cause I’m pretty sure it is my business,” he said back, taking a step forward, cornering me against the counter.  I could smell the acrid scent of liquor clearly on his breath and see the haze in his eyes.  He was drunk.  Very drunk.

I put my hands firmly on his chest and pushed, earning little result.  “No, it’s not, and it hasn’t been for months.”

“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time with that little fag when you could just have me back instead,” he jeered, jaw set in aggression.  This time I shoved him harder, grunting a little as I pushed.  He moved maybe two inches back. 

“Get away from me,” I warned.  “And shut your stupid fucking mouth about Harry.”

“Why?  Once you get done fucking around with him I know you’ll come running back to me,” he said, leering at me.

“I said back off,” pushing even harder against his chest.  When he didn’t move, I set my jaw and let out a heavy breath in frustration.  “Move, Colt!”

“No,” he said, pressing me even further into the corner.  While is still could, I raised my hand before swinging it as hard as I could, connecting my fist with his jaw with a loud smack.  Intense pain seared immediately through my wrist and up my arm, but I had never felt so satisfied.  His head whipped to the side, angry red mark already showing through his skin where my fist had struck his jaw.  When his head came back around to face me, a mixture of shock, fury, and something else I couldn’t quite decipher were displayed. 

“You’re going to wish you never did that,” he threatened, his voice deadly calm.  He stared into my eyes, malice evident.

“Leave me alone, Colt,” I said, surprised at the steady tone in my voice.  Giving me one last derisive look, he finally backed away from me stalked back into the party, disappearing into the crowd of people.  The same crowd of people who had surely just seen what was happening and didn’t do a thing about it. 

I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick.  Sick from the alcohol, sick from my interaction with Colt, and sick from the pain that was still radiating through my fist.  I could feel the embarrassing sting of tears forming behind my eyes, coming from a combination of what had just happened and a sudden burning hatred for these people.  These people who only cared about themselves, who couldn’t be bothered to stop a girl from being publically berated in the kitchen three feet away, and who obviously thought themselves too important to stop their partying for anything. 

Suddenly furious, I shoved myself away from the kitchen and pushed my way through the crowd of people towards the door.  Not caring who I squeezed my way past, I bumped into shoulders, arms, legs, surely earning myself some bruises on the way but not even noticing.  By the time I made it to the door, the tears had spilled over my eyes and streaked down my face, stinging on the way down. 

Finally, finally¸ I shoved the door open and practically threw myself out into the brisk night air.  I gulped in a fresh breath, trying to clear my head from the haze of alcohol and adrenaline, tears coming stronger than ever now.  Once outside, the look on Colt’s face came back to swim in front of my eyes.  The hint of the look I hadn’t been able to identify coming through clearly now; it was a look that promised revenge.  I choked out another sob.  Without even thinking, I pulled out my phone and dialed Harry as I started to walk briskly away from Lydia’s house.  After ringing twice, his beautifully raspy voice filled my ears.