Concrete Castle

I got dressed in what Baylee threw at me, because really, there was no point in arguing with her. It was he birthday, but she used any excuse to play dress up with me.

I had on one of her short black dresses with a sloppy bow around the waist that showed off my almost nonexistent, but still there, curves and strappy black heels. My hair was half up, a strand curled here and there and teased to perfection. She even did my makeup, dark around the eyes, and light everywhere else to show off the tan that I had acquired.

I don't know why she tried so hard, it's not like I was going to hook up with a random dude.

I never had a fake I.D before, but Baylee handed me one anyway, I didn't plan on drinking, and I would probably blow the whole thing anyway. When it came down to it being illegal, I was a bad liar. Any other time, though, I was gold.

I sighed, stepping out of the room to wait for Baylee. She had chosen a dark blue number with black trim that ended in a bow right between her breasts with shiny black high heels. Now she was just doing her makeup and hair.

Garrett, Kennedy, and John were still here, Jared and Pat had left. Pat and his girlfriend had already made plans to see a movie and Jared didn't leave anymore explanation than he had other things to do.

Whatever that meant.

Sitting down on the couch between Gary and John, I tried to pull down the tight fabric of the dress that was definitely too short. Not to mention, it didn't have any sleeves or straps, so I was probably going to fall out of it at one point or another.

“You loo-look nice, D-Devon.” Garrett stuttered, his cheeks pink.

“Thank you, Gar.” I smiled. He just nodded at me. Sometimes, Garrett's shy awkwardness was so cute. This was definitely one of those times.

“You have nice legs.” John mentioned and I felt his eyes traveling up my legs and body. I grimaced.

“Not what I like to hear.” I growled, daring him with my voice to keep staring. He met my eyes and smirked. The douche bag smirked.

I hate him. I really do.

Even after that, I could still feel John's eyes wandering all over my body.

It seemed like forever before Baylee finally came out all ready, looking perfect like always. Secretly, I was always a little jealous of her. She was petite, where I was athletic and therefore bigger than her. She had sparkling brown eyes where my gray eyes held no such twinkle.

It didn't even matter, all that was just for attracting attention from the opposite gender, and well...I kind of really didn't want that. At all. I would only get hurt in the end.

We all got into Baylee's red Cavalier. She was smart and actually went with the Chevy. Once again, I was smashed against John and Garrett while Kennedy and Baylee took the front. Only, this time, it was in closer quarters than in the apartment. John's thigh was rubbing against mine, and his shoulder brushed mine, practically every other part of us touching too. Garrett was just the same, but I didn't mind him touching me.

John though, made me sick to my stomach.

Every time I would look at him, I would see a flash of my father in the last moments that I saw him. That stupid self-assured smile, the arrogant slope of his lips. I couldn't stand it, it made my skin crawl.

I slowly counted to two hundred to keep myself in check until we got to the club. I tried following the rest, pretending like I knew what I was doing, feigning confidence as I flashed the I.D. To my surprise and pleasure, the bouncer didn't say anything, he just waved us through. It wasn't a very trendy or popular club, mostly because we couldn't afford something like that on a college student's budget.

But, it certainly would fit the purposes we had. To get smashed and have a good time.

With my assurance from the bouncer that I wouldn't get caught, I walked up to the bar and started right away. Bottle in hand, I went to the dance floor. Within moments, the first bottle was drained, and I moved to get another.

“Here you are, m'lady.” John smiled and handed me another beer. With a sloppy smile, I accepted.

I'm sort of a lightweight. I can't handle much beer.

So, in a sudden lapse of judgment, I pulled John onto the dance floor with me just as a fast-paced rap song came on.

In high school, they had several dance courses and they counted as gym credits. I hated school gyms, preferring to work out and run on my own, so I joined one. As sort of a dare from Baylee, it was the hip-hop dance one.

One thing I learned from that class: your hips and move in several different directions at a very fast rate.

And that's what I was doing, John following my lead.

What scared me most, I was actually having fun.

With John.

He had never given me reason to feel this unadulterated anger and loathing towards him, he had actually been nice to me ever since we met. But, like I said, he reminded me of my father. I pushed all the thoughts of my father from my mind and just let go.

A couple songs later, John and I collapsed in a booth, panting and laughing. “You know, you're kind of fun.” I slurred drunkenly, pointing at John.

“And, you, my intimidating friend, actually have a sense of humor.” He laughed. “And you can dance” He approved.

“I didn't take that class for no reason, Mr. Ohh.” I laughed.

Any other time, I would probably be punching myself for acting like this with John. But, right now, I was drunk and I couldn't care less about whether or not there was something about him that repelled me.

Baylee and Kennedy were elsewhere in the building, probably macking on each other in a corner or, knowing them, right out in the middle of the dance floor for everyone to see. They didn't care much about social boundaries or PDA. I could see Garrett at the bar talking with a pretty blond. He was our designated driver for the night, so he only had a coke.

Not like he was going to drink anyway, that boy didn't know the meaning of fun. And people called me a prude. I picked up my fifth or sixth bottle, thinking maybe I should stop since I couldn't remember.

I hadn't really ever gotten so drunk I lost all control, and I wasn't going to start now. But, it felt good, after a stressful week, to let go and just have fun. Especially since I couldn't remember the last time that I actually had...

“You know, I'm probably going to regret drinking all of this tomorrow.” I giggled.

“Then, here is to hangovers!” John raised his bottle in the air and I copied his actions, clanging the bottles together.

“Hey!” We heard Baylee yell over the music, appearing beside the table with Kennedy. “We're going to get a taxi back to Kenny's place...will you guys be alright alone?” She asked, giving a sly look to John. What was that about?

“Yeah, of course.” I waved off her doubts, though it didn't seem like she had any anyway. “We've actually been having quite a bit of fun.”

“I thought I'd never see the day....” Kenny muttered.

“Well, with alcohol, anything is possible!” I announced, waving goodbye as Baylee pulled Kennedy urgently towards the door.

“Guess who's getting laid tonight!” John laughed as our friends disappeared in the crowd.

“Do you want to go find Gary and go find someplace else to have drunken adventures?” I asked.

“Yeah.” John nodded, “But should we interrupt his conversation with that pretty blond?”

“Ahhh,” I thought out loud. “Yes, I'm sweating balls in here.” I said, getting up and fixing my dress. Right now, I didn't really care if I was flashing everyone, I just wanted out of here, and in the air.

“Or we could just wander around town on our own, leave Gary to have some fun.” John asked.

“Devon thinks this is also a good idea.” We made our way towards the doors, and exited into the slightly cooler night air. Screw Arizona, it's too hot.

“God, why is it always so hot out here?” I groaned, leaning against the cold brick of the building, pressing my back to it. John moved so he pinned me against the wall, his body flush against mine.

Maybe we had drank too much.

“What are you doing, John?” I asked, my voice low and husky as my skin got a little warmer.

“I want to ki--”

“What are you guys...” Garrett's voice sounded, and he realized what was happening, I pushed John away, “doing out here...?” He finished.

“We needed some air.” I answered. Garrett was being trailed by the same blond with a small smile on her face.

“Do you guys want to go home?” Garrett asked, though looking like he'd rather not.

“I'm hungry.” John mentioned.

“We ate before we came.” I put in, though I kind of felt hungry too. “But I do feel like a cheeseburger.” I added.

“We should go get a cheeseburger.” John agreed and we turned to the street again, scanning for Baylee's car.

“I've got to go look after these drunk idiots, I'll text or something sometime.” Garrett said goodbye to the still unidentified blond and followed behind us.

“Awww, Gar-bear has a wittwe cwush...” I cooed, leaning against his shoulder, watching as his face turned red even in the dark. “You're so adorable.” I pinched his cheeks.

“Gary is gonna get a girlfriend!” John cheered.

“What's her name, loverboy?” We pestered, Garrett getting visibly annoyed.

“It's Beth.” He sighed, unlocking the car.

….

I woke up, pounding headache, in my bed still in the clothes I had worn last night. I stumbled out, hands over my eyes to block the light, to the kitchen. “Look at this hot mess.” John called.

I groaned loudly, “What are you doing here?”

“Gary didn't want to drive all the way to my apartment because it was pretty late, so we crashed here.” John explained, not suffering as bad as I was from the hangover. I guess he was just used to it. “And, you might want to fix your dress, though I won't mind if you leave it like that.”

I looked at my clothes, the dress dangerously low at my chest. Embarrassed, I yanked it up. “Also, I made pancakes.”

“I'm not sure how I feel about you using my stove unsupervised.” I grumbled, struggling with the Tylenol bottle. “Where is Garrett, anyway?” I asked, looking around not seeing the boy.

“He left sometime ago...”

“Why didn't you go with him?”

“I don't have any pancake mix.” John shrugged.

I grabbed two pancakes from the stack and put them on another plate, they were still warm, and sat down, “No syrup?” He asked, puzzled. I shook my head, I couldn't tell if the hunger and headache were just because of the alcohol last night, but the tingling and shaking told me my blood sugar was too low. It was like this every morning. So, it was kind of a good thing John had made pancakes. I needed the carbs.

Another reason I shouldn't drink, I have hypoglycemia. I was actually pretty lucky, with how much I drank last night, that I didn't have a seizure, faint, or go into a coma.

After finishing the pancakes and without a word to John, I went to take a shower.