Carry on Like You're Supposed to Be

KYLE'S POINT OF VIEW

After I had stormed out of the house, I felt kind of bad. She was upset. Old habits die hard. And the only time she ever went back to such old habits were when someone had died.
But I couldn't give her outs all the time. She would never learn that way.

And so, as I neared the party that I could hear from my own house, I thought that maybe, just maybe, Alexa wasn't the girl for me. We had a connection that I had never had with any other girl, true, but we annoyed each other to no end. I was messy, she was clean. She was a face-reality kind of person, I was a dreamer. We had everything in common, but then nothing at the same time. I wondered if the baby was the only reason I took her back. But I couldn't come to a conclusion to that thought, as I had reached the front door of the party, and drinks were being thrust into my hands. I drank some of the less repugnant-smelling ones, and was only slightly buzzing.

I wandered around for awhile, until a girl with orange hair on top, and black on the ends came up to me. I could tell from her clouded eyes and by the way she walked that she was drunk.
I couldn't lie, she was gorgeous, in that self-confident, 'fuck you I'm my own person' kind of way. And I think that that, mixed with the fact that I was pissed at Alexa and wanted to do something kind of spiteful, and that I had been drinking a bit, led to what I was doing up until I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.

ALEXA'S POINT OF VIEW

It was 11. And I was drunk enough to call up Caleb. I put on my best sober voice, hoping I could convince him that I wasn't in fact drunk, and that I could in fact make decisions that weren't influenced by the alcohol.

"C-Caleb, Kyle said h-he was going to a par-r-ty. Do you know wh-where?" I stuttered.

"Yeah, it's like three houses to the left of his. Have you been crying? Do you need me to come over?" Caleb's voice sounded concerned. He must have taken my stuttering as sobs. Which, to be honest, they probably could have been.

"Nah, it's f-fine. Thanks." I hung up before Caleb could say anything, and put down my eighth bottle. I walked to the front door, slid on my pink converse, and headed out towards this party to the left.

Once I had arrived at the house hosting the party - that you could tell was already in full swing if you just looked at it - I immediately pushed through the hoards of drunken idiots that filled the dance floor, looking for Kyle. By the looks people were giving me, they must have thought I was a drunken idiot as well, but I didn't give a shit. I was drunk.

I passed by two people making out, a girl with long orangy-blond and black hair, and a boy with messy white-blonde hair. At first I didn't think twice about it, but once I was a few feet from them, it hit me. I turned around, and upon closer inspection, I found it to be Kyle. I walked behind him, and tapped him on the shoulder, my eyes narrowed, prepared to let the alcohol talk for me. When he turned around to look at me, with one eyebrow raised as to why someone would interrupt his fun, I got a closer look at the girl, and my mouth dropped.

Savanna.
Bitch.