Average At Best.

Chapter 1

It's 9 pm on a Saturday and I'm already regretting my life decisions.

Why did I even agree to come here? I never let anyone tell me what to do.

Well...anyone except Jen. She has that innocent, pleading look that makes you think she'll immediately start crying if you don't agree to what she's asking, the same look that makes the guys go crazy. I know damn well that I, her best friend who has seen her do that a hundred times, shouldn't fall for her tricks but somehow, I always end up letting her get her way.

Just like today.

If it weren't for her, I'd probably be spending the evening getting cosy in my dorm room, just me, my fuzzy blanket, a cup of hot chocolate and a trusty BBC period drama playing on my laptop...

But Jen doesn't take no for an answer.

When she bursts into your room like a hurricane demanding that you go to this 'super exclusive' party she miraculously has an invitation for, she expects you to come with her.

So now I'm here.

At a party.

Which I haven't done in forever. No wonder.

While my little brother would have killed to be invited to such a party, I have vastly different ideas of what a perfect Saturday night looks like.

And it's not this.

And all just because I can't say no to the girl who dragged me here. Where is she, by the way?

Searching for my friend, I let my eyes wander through the room. There are WAY too many people for my taste, and that although it's only quarter past nine and this is supposed to be a 'small home party with a veeeery exclusive guest list', as Jen put it.

It's true though. The guests seem very...exclusive.

Most of the girls I see look as if they were planning to attend a red carpet, all dressed up in sparkly mini dresses and high heels, standing around in flocks like glittery, champagne-sipping sheep while they talk about whatever the hell rich people talk about.

The guys don't look any less posh with their designer suits and expensive haircuts. They all seem to know each other, from one elite social club or another, and something tells me that about 95% of them play golf on a regular basis. Ugh. Remind me again what I'm doing here?

Right, Jen. I spot her in a corner talking to a dark-haired girl, seemingly having fun and giggling like a middle schooler while shooting glances at a nearby group of guys.

With a sigh, I walk over to my friend.

"Y/N, THERE you are! I've been looking ALL OVER for you!".

Sure she was.

"Are you having fun?".

"I- ".

"You haven't even been trying, have you?". She playfully pokes my nose. "Well, I'm here to change that. See that group of guys over there?".

I look over to guys I've seen her giggle about earlier. There's three of them, and they all look like celebrities with their tailored suits and crystal whiskey glasses.

"Well, Charlotte and I" – she nods to the girl next to her as if to introduce her to me – "just made bets about which one of them is gonna approach us first. She's for the tall one with the handsome face, I'm for the one in the shiny green suit. What do you think?".

I glance at the guys for a second time, now examining them more carefully. The one in the green suit that caught Jen's eye seems to be telling some sort of exciting story to the others. I can't hear what he says, but his eyes light up as he talks and from time to time, he laughs as if he'd just heard the joke of the century – even though it's only him talking.