How To Save You

Step Four: You Bring Her Home

I got ready for the party, slipping on some artfully ripped jeans and a white dress shirt rolled to my elbows. I was done within no time; my good looks did not need aid. I quickly checked my wallet for cash; I had thirty dollars in there which would definitely be enough. After all it was a house party, the biggest plus was that you didn't have to pay for the booze.

I jogged out of the house, avoiding Brandi's attempts at a hug, patting Joy (who was far happier, but also dressed sluttier) on the head and assuring my dad I wasn't going to get completely wasted (complete lie). I got into the cheap car I'd been given (don't get me wrong, I was very thankful but that thing was still a piece of crap). I turned up the Arctic Monkeys and let my head nod along to the hypnotic beat.

I picked up Carl at his house. He was dressed in his football jersey and a pair of black trousers. He got into the car and grinned at me.

"You're totally going to hook up with Ingrid, huh?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

I laughed, "I don't know, man."

The truth was, I felt kind of bad. Ingrid was totally hot, but she was just so nice. And I didn't want to be a dick and break her heart. I really didn't want a girlfriend, I just wanted to have some fun. That was what seventeen was about. Ingrid was not a girl who you would have 'fun' with. She was girlfriend material.

"Why not?" Carl laughed.

I explained my dilemma to him and he just rolled his eyes.

"She knows what she's getting into with someone like you," he shrugged my worries off.

I was about to agree when I realized what he said, "what do you mean 'someone like you?"

"You're a bit of an asshole," Carl punched my shoulder playfully and I rolled my eyes.

I parked in front of a nice house, with a white picket fence and all. People were piling into the house, holding six-packs of beer and some already drunk. I grinned, this was going to be a hell of a good night. Especially seeing the skimpy outfits the girls were wearing.

***

My face lit up when I saw what Ingrid was wearing. Or what she wasn't wearing... She was in a skintight, sequined red dress which barely covered her butt and revealed her deliciously long, tanned legs. Her straight brown hair was out of her ponytail for the first time, and it was bouncing on her shoulder. Alright, my good morals were thrown out of the window.

I snuck up behind her and hugged her from behind. She jumped a little and a huge smile spread across her lips as she saw who it was.

"You came!" she shrieked, twisting in my arms and pressing her front against mine.

She was wearing a little too much sickly-sweet perfume and I pressed my lips together in distaste. My nostrils were practically burning. I let her go and I was about to go to the beer keg where Carl was standing, preparing to drink upside. She snatched up my hand and pulled me onto the makeshift dance floor.

Some detestable Nicki Minaj was playing.

"Oh my gosh, isn't this song the greatest?" she had to yell to be heard over the blasting music.

I forced a smile on my face as she backed into my body, shamelessly grinding, "Uh... I don't know... I like rock, a little more."

She was rubbing herself against my body, and I had to give credit where credit was due... she was pretty good at dancing. Except she was basically giving me a private lap dance. In  fact she was pushing me with her rear into the sofa, and she seemed to be intending to do that.