I Hate My Brother's Girlfriend

Way too drunk

Willow's POV
After walking away from my very public breakup I decide that since I'm already here I might as well enjoy the party. To do that I know I am gonna have to get very drunk.

I head to the kitchen to find Kayla's parents' private stash. For parties she only had the cheap stuff, but I needed something way stronger.

I grab a bottle of vodka and start to drink straight from the bottle. "Really dude? My parents's not so secret stash. You must be really feeling the breakup if you pulling out the expensive vodka," my best friend says from behind me.

"Oh I don't really care about that. I've been wanting to dump him for ages. I just needed a reason, so I could make a fool out of him in the process," I explain to her.

"Girl. You are a scheming little devil and I mean that in a good way," Kayla laughs.

"You're already drunk. So let's save this post breakup talk for tomorrow when we're both sober," I tell her.

"Ok. But your okay for now. Right?" She asks concernedly.

"Ya. I'm fine. Go have fun," I answer.

She runs off while I stay wondering why I lied. Why I didn't tell her what happened. Why I didn't tell her whole reason I stopped turning a blind eye to Logan's cheating. Why I suddenly cared. Why I didn't brake up with him the first time I caught him cheating. Or the second. Or the third.

Why I am sitting here practically inhaling the alcohol just so I can mildly enjoy the party when going to parties used to be the one of the only things that gave me joy in life. Why now all this makes me miserable.

I sit here lost in my thoughts while watching people come in and out refilling their cups. Soon enough half the bottle was gone.

I am finally feeling drunk enough to go out there. I make my way out to the living room only half conscious of what is going on around me.

Lexi's POV

After a few minutes of standing alone, unsure of what to do, I watch as someone approached me.

"Hey. I know we sort of met before, but I'm Easton." He says with a smile.

"I remember," I respond, while thinking back to the dinner a few days ago.

"Most people just call me East."

"Well East, it was nice to meet you."

He gives a bright smile. For a moment there is silence between us. He then speaks again. "If you don't mind me asking. Why are you just standing here alone?"

"Because I don't really know anyone and the people that I do know disappeared," I answer honestly.

"Oh..." he says. "Well those people are idiots. Who wouldn't want to hang out with such an amazing girl." I smile at his response.

I can't remember how long we have been talking. In the middle of our long conversation, something catches my eye.

I watch as Willow stumbles across the room, obviously very drunk. I wonder if this was a regular thing for her or was a result of the huge breakup she just went through.

"Lexi. You with me?" Easton asks grabbing my attention.

"Yes. Sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was just asking if you play any sports."

"Oh. I play soccer currently. At my last school we went to state in the fall. I used to do tennis and gymnastics, but I quit so I could..." I start, but trailed off as I watch the scene behind him.

Willow is now on some guys shoulders. People cheer as she drinks the reminisce of a bottle. Once she is done she throws it across the room and it crashes against the wall.

I turn back to Easton. "Is your sister okay?" I ask him.

He turns around and looks at his sister. "Ya. She's fine. She does this all the time."

Just then the girl falls off the guy's shoulders and onto the ground. She then gets up and yells, "Who wants to see my do me a...a...a flipyback. No a backflip." The crowd of drunken teenagers around her cheers in response.

"I'm sorry but someone has to stop this before she gets hurt. It was nice talking to you though. I hope to do it again sometime," I say to Easton before walking away towards his sister.

When I reach her she was standing on top of a table. "Willow get down," I instruct her.

"No. I'm gonna do a flip." She states, slurring her words.

"What you're going to do is break your neck."

"No I'm not," she argues.

"Yes you are. You're way to drunk to do a backflip. So get down."

"Nooooo." She whines.

"Don't make me carry you out of here." I say in a strict tone.

She ignores this. Instead she got into a position like she was about to do the flip. Turns out a drunk person's definition of a backflip is jumping off of a table backwards.

After jumping she lands on her feet, but soon fell to her butt. "Come on we're going," I tell her.

I reach out my hand to help her up. As soon as she stands I direct her towards the door and out to my car.

I start to wonder why I am doing this for her. Why was I helping her when all she had done was be rude to me? I realize that I didn't have an answer. Still I continue driving with her in my passenger seat.