Nine:

I started to hate the party as soon as I got out of the cab.

Empty bottles of beer were strewn across the lawn. Loud music echoed throughout the whole dim lit street. Carly Duncan's two story house was bathed in the moonlight, the warm light emerging from the windows making them look like two giant eyes.

A knot formed in my stomach. "I can't believe you talked me into coming here." I heaved a small sigh and glanced at Chloe walking beside me.

She sketched a smirk. Her caramel long hair swept across her short dress. Her smokey eyes and bright red lips looked more prominent in the light of the full moon.

"You should be thanking me, Bree. You're basically doing what every girl in those teen fictions of yours from Wattpad does at some point. Partying. Maybe you'll even meet your bad boy tonight, eh?"

My eyes did their involuntary roll. "Don't cliché-speak to me, okay? Those are just books. This is reality. And even though I happen to know a certain so called 'bad boy', that doesn't mean he's my Prince Charming. And I can tell you that he certainly isn't."

Chloe chuckled as her heels crunched from stepping on a stick. "You're so pessimistic. Just give yourself a chance to have fun. That's all I'm asking."

I let the silence fall between the two of us as we walked the steps on the front porch.

The music filled our eardrums with probably one hundred decibels of noise, but I was too zoned out into my own thoughts to mind the music coming from inside.

The noise, however, hit my ears as soon as Chloe and I entered Carly's house. The pulse in my veins accelerated instantly.

The living room was decorated with groups of teenagers swinging to the rhythms of the song, each of them holding a red cup with transparent liquid. Everything was dim lit, the only source of illumination coming from the small lightbulbs on the walls and the few improvised disco lights.

There were also a few heart shaped cardboards hanging from the ceiling as Valentine's day decorations, suggesting the theme of the party.

My eyes scanned the mobs of teenagers. I recognized a few classmates, more people from school which I didn't have classes with, but mostly there were friends of friends.

I didn't yet see Carly - nor Michael, for that matter. Not that I cared.

Too much.

I turned towards Chloe expectantly. "Okay, now what?"

Her gaze darted through the people dancing before her. "I'm going to go find Carly," she shouted over the music.

I frowned. "Um, alright. But what - "

"I'll see you later, okay?" she said abruptly. "Go have fun. Carpe Diem. Enjoy the moment."

Chloe patted my shoulder, spilling out random encouraging words that didn't sound so encouraging to me.

She flashed me a sympathetic smile and then turned around, elbowing her way through the small crowd of people. I watched as Chloe disappeared within the dark scene, her body now just a mere shadow slowly walking away.

I felt like a kid left behind by their own mother. Even my inner voice seemed awfully quiet.

I looked around, still standing a few feet away from the door, watching the teenagers dance to the rhythm, each in their own way, but nonetheless surrounded by their friends or partners. My chest tightened at the sight and I suddenly felt small.

Chloe leaving me behind definitely wasn't a part of the plan. I mentally scolded her for not understanding my need of company in moments like this, but I knew it was for nothing. It was too late.

She was gone.

What was I supposed to do now?

"Hey, watch out!" An alarmed voice screamed over the music, and I instantly broke away from my thoughts.

I turned around in my heels and sat on my tippy toes, looking over the heads of the others as I searched for the source of the scream.

I spotted a familiar figure somewhere at the edge of the crowd of dancing teens. I immediately walked a little closer. He seemed to be surrounded by a group of people, a large part of his face obscured by the person standing directly in front of him, but I knew. I knew exactly who the person was.

I carefully approached the familiar boy, elbowing my way through the crowd just like Chloe had done merely two minutes before. I could make out a few more loud comments, followed by that same alarmed voice that was now more of a set of groans instead.

My eyes landed on the boy as I was now barely ten feet away from him.

Oh my God.

My heart started pumping heavily in my chest as I ran to a hurt Michael, his face sprayed with drops of blood all around his nose and above his mouth.

"Michael!" I gasped. I reached his spot as he leaned against the wall, struggling to keep his wobbling legs from falling, his gaze set into nothingness as if he couldn't focus to his whereabouts anymore.

A group of teens circled him, staring at him and gawking with rather frightened expression, but I just shoved past them and ignored their annoyed looks as I did so.

"Michael, what happened to you?"

His hands cupped the wall behind him even tighter, enjoying his little corner. Blood still dribbled from his nose, but he didn't even seem to mind that.

"He got punched," one of the guys next to me said, though Michael's broken nose kind of explained everything.

I wanted nothing more than to take him away from there, but I still had one question circling into my mind. "Who punched him?"

As if on cue, Michael blinked, lifting his brown eyes to mine. "B-Bree?" He stammered, his expression puzzled as if he'd just now acknowledged my presence. "What are you doing here?"

I leaned closer to him. His breath fanned on my face, the smell of alcohol very much persistent. "I heard a scream and I came here... Are you drunk?" I asked, despite knowing the answer.

He swallowed, trying to focus on my face features rather than the floor. "I dunno... Am I?"

Asked, and answered.

"Come on," I grabbed his arm boldly, "Let's get you out of here."

"But I'm fine," he whined, clearly annoyed at my awkward attempt of a rescue. "I'm not d-drunk."

Despite the anger and fear travelling my body, I rolled my eyes and pushed him a little further into the crowd. "Whatever you say, Princess."

He tried to break away from my tight grip but eventually gave up after a few tries. He couldn't even stand straight onto his own two feet, for Heaven's sake. And I still had no idea how he had gotten himself to such a beautiful bloody nose.

With his arm locked within my grasp, the two of us managed to travel the living room filled with the other drunken teens, and exit through that very same door I'd entered through not even ten minutes before.

I just wanted to get out of that hassle.

We got out of the house and walked onto the front lawn, no clear destination into my mind. All I knew is that I wanted Michael to sit down.

I spotted some sort of backyard furniture on the side of the house, and decided to guide Michael to that area.

We reached three white patio chairs abandoned onto the grass, and realized that those would have to do.

I got Michael safely to them and he took a seat on one of the chairs without tripping or falling on his face - which was an accomplishment considering his current state of mind.

I propped myself onto the other chair across his and heaved a loud sigh. "Great. So now that we've got out of that hellish atmosphere you people call party, can you please explain to me what happened?"

"Ugh..." He touched his nose, as if checking if it was still in place. He winced. "I'm not sure..."

I was getting impatient. "Think, Michael, think."

He scratched the back of his neck. "Um... The last thing I remember was... S-someone coming toward me. A guy. A buff guy... He said something... I don't remember. I got annoyed. Next thing I know, I punch him, he punches me back. It hurt..."

I chewed on my lip. "Let me see." I took a seat next to him on the chair and slightly touched his nose. The blood had dried, but the view wasn't exactly pleasent.

He flinched under my touch. "Still hurts?"

"Yeah." He slowly nodded and turned to look into my eyes. He blinked, his glistening eyes like two brown marbles, and reluctantly opened his mouth to speak. "Thanks, Bree..."

I frowned. "For what?"

"For helping me. Again."

I waved him off, knowing that the alcohol he had consumed was making him say this. "It's okay. Don't worry. You'll probably not even going to remember this by tomorrow, so..."

He shook his head so desperately I almost flinched myself. "No. No. I don't want to forget this moment."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, even more confused by his antics.

"Bree, I... I was an ass to you before. I know. And I'm sorry."

I pursed my lips as my eyes remained locked within his. "It's fine -"

"No," he argued, "you were always sweet to me. I know you'd never treat me the way I treated you."

Except that I only happened to post your most embarrassing secret on a public blog.

I cleared my throat awkwardly, averting his eyes. "Um, yeah..."

"Bree," he called, his hand landing on my arm as he grazed it slightly. "I - I need to tell you something."

My heart skipped a beat. His expression looked so delicate and fragile (quite literally, considering his broken nose), the same as when we'd last spoken into the library. His gaze wondered within my own brown eyes as he seemed to be processing through his words.

"What?" I asked, but my tone came out all squeaky. I almost winced.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't make it that far.

His expression morphed into a gagging face, and well, you can pretty much guess what came next.

He bent his head down and threw out all of his previous meals onto the once fresh grass.

I swallowed and looked away from the view. "Thanks for the confession, Michael."

______

Poor Michael. I really feel bad for him. Don't you?

You're going to see more of Bree and Michael during the next chapters hehe :3

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