July 26, 2012
By nktwoeyes BRONZE, East Windsor, New Jersey
nktwoeyes BRONZE, East Windsor, New Jersey
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
“I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.” -F. Scott Fitzgerald

Really not giving a s*** and making a solid effort not to care, I hold the red plastic cup in my hand and wish to be far away from my own mind. And this high school banger seems like a good place to start.

It’s a little chilly in the room, but it is October and the after-homecoming party. I’ll be honest, this isn’t really my scene, but James dragged me here and I might as well enjoy it. If everyone always expects me to be the good girl, I’m going to fight it.

With that in mind I lift the plastic cup to my lips and get ready to take a sip of cheap beer when a wrist grabs my hand.

“What the f*** are you doing,” and Jame’s blue-green eyes are piercing mine.

“I do what I want now,” I spit back. But the moment is ruined and I realize how stupid I’m acting so I jerk my wrist away, and head out the back door. After dumping the damned cup in a bush I figure it’s time to get out of here. I’m surprised the small-town cops have let us have this much fun without intervening yet.

I start to make my way down the sidewalk, hands in pockets and relishing the silence. Suddenly I hear a screeching of tires, something gets thrown out of a car window, and the car speeds away, going 3 times faster than the speed limit.

I walk over to the object and pick up a light brown jacket and as I realize who’s it is, my phone buzzes.

“I know you won’t talk to me tonight, but there’s no reason for you to be stubborn and cold.”

Shaking my head, I shrug the jacket on and think about the stupid fight with James. He’s the one who wanted to go to the party and freaked out when I said no, but as soon as I pick up a drink and try things his way, he’s Mr. Protective?

It’s kind of sweet in a way, you know? I continue walking and thinking this for about 10 minutes before pulling out my phone and to call him, but as I round the corner and step onto my street, I see his car idling there.

I open the door and call in, “Why are you sitting here?”

“I knew you’d come back,” he says.

“Well, I do live here.”

“Not come back here. I knew you’d come back to me,” and the blue-green eyes are on mine as he pulls me into the car and his lips meet mine.

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