Never Doubt

“GABBY!” my best friend in the whole wide world greets me.

The scene I was in is a house party. I’ve just arrived and best friend is already drunk, great. She fortunately is the one who greets me by the door. We’ve just finished our finals and what a better way to celebrate than go to a random party at a random part of Illinois. Yeah, Illinois is big but this place was the closest and she did say she knew who was throwing the party. I honestly didn’t care, all I wanted was to let off steam and a party with free booze sounds good.

“I see you’ve had your share,” I complimented her.

“Well, you were late,” she smirked back and I laughed. She grabbed my hand and led me through the house, specifically the kitchen.

“So,” I went to the counter where I spotted a couple of beers, “do you really know who’s house is this?”

“Of course,” she scoffed.

“Okay,” I took a long swig of my beer, “Who?” I challenged.

“Uh,” she thought about it for a moment, “I can’t remember, but this guy from the record store, the one we go to, and uh, he had this friend over there one time – I could tell he was checking me out by the way, so he invited me to this party, and I know we both need a party right now so I thought why not, right.” She smiled, proud she got that fact straight.

I nodded my head. “So this is his place?”

“No, his parent’s.”

I nodded again. This dude is kind of loaded. The house is big. When I parked outside, the lawn was wide open. The kitchen is also big.

“So, you wanna dance or something?” she asked.

“Nah, I’ll just go around first,” I looked around, “and eat.”

“Uh, third floor is off limits.”

“Okay, I’ll see ya,” I started walking away.

Yes, I’m a party goer but I make sure first. I always tour the house by myself and see if I knew anyone other than my buzzed best friend. Maybe get to know the host through pictures. I can easily distinguish who the host is by the family pictures on the wall by the stairs. It just a gift that sometimes comes in handy, like this one time, we went to a very random party and it turns out the host was a buddy of Berna’s ex. We got out as soon as we knew but we took a couple of beers so we could continue out little party over at Berna’s room.

I around walked as casually as I could. And just as I expected, family pictures on the wall by the stairs. A very typical location to put pictures on. I went to see each one of it. The first was of a family. I could tell the parents are strict, judging by the tight smile they had. Then there were two boys and a girl in the middle. I knew instantly the girl was the youngest but the boys were tough. They both have a goofy grin while the girl had a sheepish smile. The kids looked like they’re between 8 and 13. I need a more recent picture.

Right next to that is another family picture. This one more recent. The kids from before are a little older. I could tell they’re in high school. The boys still had that goofy smile though, while the girl has a shy smile. The parents are very different from before, now they have the same smile as the girl. Looks like they’re proud of something or someone.

“See anything you like,” a voice interrupted my thoughts.

Turning my head to the side, I saw one of the boys in the picture but he has longer hair now and much older than the pictures. He had a smirked on his face, like I was caught taking a cookie from the cookie jar.

“I…, uh…”

“You know, it’s the first time I saw someone look at family pictures in parties,” he smirked again.

I tried really hard to come up with something to say back, but I was caught in the act. I don’t know what to say.

His eyes, traveled from my face to my body to the bottle in my hand. I could tell he knew I was underage but hey, he hosted a party he should know that teenagers crash parties.

As I expected he had that knowing smirk on his face. I’m seriously hating this guy more and more.

“What,” he chuckled, “cat got your tongue?”

I gave him a flirty smile, walked a little closer to him and stuck my tongue out in the most childish manner I possibly could and walked away.

I managed to find my now very drunk best friend out back. She was lounging in one of the garden couches by the patio, eyes closed.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked as I sat down beside her.

She shook her head no. Then she laughed. She laughed and laughed and laughed.

“What the hell is so funny?” I nudged her arm.

“You,” she giggled, “me, this, everything.”

“You’re drunk,” I told her.

“Yes,” she smiled proudly at me, “Yes, I am.”

“Comm’on creep-o,” I tried getting her off the couch, “I’ll drive ‘ya home.”

“But I don’t wanna go home,” she whined. “I like it here, free drinks, nice music…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she didn’t even give a fight. I had one of her arms over my shoulder. I didn’t want to run into the guy inside again so took the longer way around the house. It’s a good thing I parked near the house. I got Berna settled in; seatbelt buckled. Then I went over to the driver side and made our way home.

“TURN THAT FUCKING ALAM CLOCK OFF!” I shouted to whoever was with me but it kept on beeping making that most annoying sound in the world.

Groaning, I got up and snatched the clock of the bedside table turned it off and threw it at the door.

“Fuck,” I muttered pulling the covers over myself once more.

I closed my eyes, letting the peacefulness take over once more but there was nothing. My heart was still thundering in my chest from that stupid alarm clock. Just five more minutes, I told myself but my body wouldn’t have any of it. I got up again and head to the adjoined bathroom.

I’ve just finished putting on my underwear when the door opened.

“Good morning beautiful,” I greeted her.

“Ugh,” she groaned back, heading straight to the sink, rinsing her mouth.

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to get drunk,” I chuckled.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose,” she pointed out. “You were supposed to get drunk too.”

“Yeah, well,” I pulled on one of her ex’s hoddie and some skinny jeans, “there was this creepy guy who came to me and ruined it.”

“Yeah, so?” she asked, stepping out of her clothes.

“Well, the dude totally knew I was underage,” I argued, “he could’ve called on me.”

“Gabby,” she turned to look at me, “everybody there was underage.”

“Nu-uh,” I objected, “the dude looked old enough to be in college.”

“Wait, did he had a goofy grin?”

“Yeah,” where is she going with this?

“And a uni-brow?”

“Uh… I think so… I don’t know dude. I was buzzed.”

She smacked my arm and gaped at me.

“What?”

“That was Pete! You saw Pete!!” she was gushing.

“So?” I raised an eye brow at her, “The dude was creep-tacular.”

“He was the guy I was talking to you about,” she explained. “The guy that invited me-us, to the party.”

“And your point is?”

“Did you not see his face clearly?! He’s so hot,” she said the last part dreamily.

“You just said he has a uni-brow. How is that hot?” I countered.

“Did you not see his face clearly?! He’s cute and boyish and charming and-“

I pushed her into the shower effectively cutting her off.

“You definitely need a shower.”

I reached in and turned on the water for her, “A freezing shower to clear your head.”

“GABBY!!!” she screamed.