Sequel: Among Broken Guitar Strings ›
Status: Done! Sequel coming/in progress.
The Redhead, and The Dreamer.
Cool.
I suppose the hardest part about becoming a party girl was figuring out how to keep it all hidden from my mother. Sure, my father had been a dead beat, town to town drifter, who didn’t stick around for more than a few months after I was born, but my mother was the only family I really had since my grandparents on her side died. She thought I was an angel, and I really didn’t want to ruin that for her, because I knew she loved to brag to her friends about how good I was in school, and church choir, and everything else to her friends like there was no tomorrow. Just me dying my hair made her look at me funny. I couldn’t ever let her find out anything else was going on. She’d never trust me again.
The thing most people don’t realize about small towns is that they’re full of druggies, and sex addicts, and underage alcoholics. People move to these kinds of places to keep their kids away from the stuff, but in most cases, all they end up doing is guarantee their kids get into the stuff at an incredibly young age. Someone’s always having a party somewhere on a Saturday night in smaller towns, and most of the cooler adults don’t care if minors show up and party with them as long as they’re somewhat decent looking. Never forget this, and I’m sure you can manage to have a good time when traveling or moving to a new place.
The first party I went to was awkward at first. I followed Crystal around and sipped slowly from my plastic cup. I wasn’t sure what was in it, but I knew whatever it was, it was spiked with vodka. It was a party out in the woods behind the high school and nearly everyone was there with the exception of the weirder, less accepted kids around school. It was weird, because a month ago, I never would’ve been caught dead at a place like that. A month is a long time though.
After the alcohol got into me a bit, I loosened up, and the next thing I knew, I was half naked and making out with a guy who graduated the year I was a freshman. He called me hot, and I just giggled. Had he told me that while we both went to the same school, I probably would’ve fainted, but not now. Fainting wasn’t cool afterall.
The thing most people don’t realize about small towns is that they’re full of druggies, and sex addicts, and underage alcoholics. People move to these kinds of places to keep their kids away from the stuff, but in most cases, all they end up doing is guarantee their kids get into the stuff at an incredibly young age. Someone’s always having a party somewhere on a Saturday night in smaller towns, and most of the cooler adults don’t care if minors show up and party with them as long as they’re somewhat decent looking. Never forget this, and I’m sure you can manage to have a good time when traveling or moving to a new place.
The first party I went to was awkward at first. I followed Crystal around and sipped slowly from my plastic cup. I wasn’t sure what was in it, but I knew whatever it was, it was spiked with vodka. It was a party out in the woods behind the high school and nearly everyone was there with the exception of the weirder, less accepted kids around school. It was weird, because a month ago, I never would’ve been caught dead at a place like that. A month is a long time though.
After the alcohol got into me a bit, I loosened up, and the next thing I knew, I was half naked and making out with a guy who graduated the year I was a freshman. He called me hot, and I just giggled. Had he told me that while we both went to the same school, I probably would’ve fainted, but not now. Fainting wasn’t cool afterall.