Rules Of The Game: Book 1

19; I've Got A Drinking Problem

𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟹𝚛𝚍, 𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢
Miles POV

In true west coast fashion, someone is holding a house-party-to-end-all-house-parties the night after the big homecoming win to round out the festivities for the month.

By "someone," I mean Dominic, one of the defensive linebackers on the team. Supposedly it's the football team tradition to throw a bunch of ragers every year in October, every Saturday night leading up to the game, and then having a huge final party the night after... Either to celebrate or drown their sorrows until Monday.

And in my true fashion, I had to show up and help celebrate this year's win.

Besides, Turner invited me last night while we sat together at the game, so who am I to turn a boy or free alcohol down?

It's been one hour since I showed up here with Turner, and everyone is already trashed. Including me. Somehow, a blunt found its way into one hand, and I have a cup of vodka soda in the other.

Best fuckin' night ever.

Taking a drag from the rolled joint, I exhale smoke into the night sky and weave around a pack of arguing girls. It's hard to hear what they're fighting about over the loud music, except I also don't give a rat's ass. Girls always find ways to make too much drama out of little problems.

I slip inside the house from the back patio door as one of the girls starts screaming at her friend. For fucks sake, I should have given her a hit from my joint.

Quickly, those girls are old news as new bodies press up against me. The music is way louder inside, blasting from hidden speakers around the beach house, the floor shaking like a plane hitting turbulence.

My ears ring as a hundred voices rise, screaming the lyrics to the Waka Flocka song being played.

Seriously, the entire high school and then some must be here partying tonight. Don't get me wrong; it's totally for a good reason. That game last night was a total movie. No one expected that other school to raise such a fight, like, literally.

All I have heard around here is Griffins' fight with that opposing team member. He deserves the clout, though. That was a serious power move, and it's too bad that he's not here tonight. Rumor has it that Greyson got so pissed at his son that he grounded Griffin until Christmas.

The other hot topic is one of my favorites: Parker.

He carried that shit single-handly. His playing was phenomenal. I felt like I was in the presence of royalty. Especially that last move--I've never seen a human run so fuckin' fast in my life.

And maybe I'm still caught up on that recognition from him in the lineup, too. I might not be thinking clearly from all of this alcohol, yet I can still picture his face crystal clear, especially that smile. God, that smile.

My heart aches with longing. It's too bad that he didn't show up here, not that I expected him to. A small part of me hoped for it, though. Maybe I want to finish what we started last weekend.

"Yo, watch your gay ass!" Some girl curses at me as I bump her shoulder in passing. I look this basic bitch over slowly, letting my eyes catch on her white tube top and skinny jeans as I exhale more smoke.

"Watch your boyfriend, girl. If you're not careful with your attitude, he might come looking for this gay ass tonight," I snap right back.

Her eyes flash dangerously, and I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to take those fake hoops out for a fight. She must decide against it because she lets out a humph before turning away and disappearing into the crowd.