Why do you pick fights with other boys? It's the question Ryan has been running from all his life. The answer will shock you.
For as long as Ryan can remember, he's always wanted to be someone special. Now, a promising high school wrestler and a po...
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The night was only mildly cold for late Fall. Several parties blocks apart from each other were in full swing. On a weekend night, a dozen or so college and high school parties were not uncommon in Barclay.
Popular seniors from Barclay's high schools were attending a party hosted by Ali Bullard, Cyrus's off and on again girlfriend. Some lowerclassmen had crashed the joint, bringing the total number of attendees well past the twenty or so guests she invited.
Jocks drank while engaging in loud, rambunctious activities including playing beer pong. Stoners posted up outside smoking joints and taking bong rips. Some upperclassmen snorted coke and crushed pills in the bathrooms. A few couples were hiding in the bedrooms to soil Ali's siblings and parents' bed sheets. All in all, it was a pretty standard Saturday night.
Dalton sat on the couch in the living room while sharing a joint with Cyrus and Ali. Most of his night was spent selling dimes and eighths of weed. A few freshmen who snuck in bought a half ounce off him, bringing his total sales for the night close to five hundred bucks.
Cindy had been at the party for a couple hours, essentially wandering from room to the next. Familiar faces were greeted, casual conversations came and went, and alcohol was a constant companion. But the allure of the party wasn't there. Without Ryan, Ali's house was just an excuse to drink which she wasn't vibing with.
Why am I here? She asked herself.
A strange feeling sat in the pit of Cindy's stomach. There wasn't anything necessarily wrong with the party, aside from Ryan's absence. It had all the hallmarks of a traditional night out. But this growing feeling of anxiousness and dread grew in Cindy's gut. It wasn't from the unwanted glances of some drunk attendees nor her general boredom. It was something she couldn't pinpoint, but it was making her uncomfortable.
Ashley Benson, Cindy's best friend, cozied up next to her boyfriend, Luke, as they heavily made out on a couch. Dalton ejected himself from his seat, as their intimacy was invading his space. His buddies smoking with him followed suit.
In the middle of her make-out session with Luke, Cindy impolitely nudged Ashley. "Can we go?" She asked.
"Why?' Ashley asked sloppily. Cindy could smell the tequila off her breath. "What's wrong?"
"Why'd you stop kissing me?" Luke asked even more sloppily. He turned Ashley's face back to his and continued kissing her.
Cindy nudged Ashley again. "Ashley, come on."
Her phone chimed. She looked at the text from her boyfriend:
hows it going?
She texted him back:
Ashley's drunk. Im ready to go.
Ashley pushed Luke away. "Alright, alright! Hold on!" She turned her attention to Cindy. "You need to go?" Then back to Luke, "You have the keys?"
