Chapter 1: Parties

It was a strange night, and there seemed to be a chill in the air. I knew I shouldn't have gone to the party. It was a stupid mistake. Even now, as I gazed up at the moon from Robbie Bryant's spacious and deserted backyard.

God, this was stupid.

I wrapped my arms around myself, and tilted my head farther back to see more of the star sprinkled sky. "What are you doing here, Vanessa?" the heavy weight of an arm was on my shoulders. Victor.

I looked up at my big brother. Victor Andre Sanford. Cropped hair, the same coppery brown shade as mine. My mother's green eyes, my father's short jaw and as football player's biceps. Yep, my older brother.

"Jocelyn invited me," I stated plainly.

"Fan-tastic."

That's the thing about me and Victor. We're the same in how we talk. Simple, short sentences. No one understands this, except for the both of us. See, I may hate his football playing, cheerleader dating, military enrolling guts, but he's my brother and as much as I despise it: he gets me. He has since we were little.

"What about you?" I focused my gaze on a particularly bright star. A few seconds passed when he didn't answer, and then I could feel "the look". The "I'm-popular-that's-why-I'm-here-duh!" look. I rolled my eyes, and turned my gaze on him, "Right."

"Mhmm."

Do you see what I mean? He didn't have to say anything, and I got what he was trying to say. What was I going to do when he enters the military?

"So, I can't get a ride home?" I questioned, already knowing the answer. "Not a chance," he was shaking his head. Right, he came with Camilla- the whore. I sighed, "Fine." He shrugged, "Oh, come on, Nessie! You know better than anyone that you'll be able to get a ride! Any of these 'strapping young fellows' would be happy to take you home," he began to rant. I hated when he did this. Sure, I was used to Jocelyn or my other friends ranting, but my brother- no way.

I rolled my eyes. "First of all, I want someone sober enough to stop at a stop sign. And two, I'd like to go to my house, not there's." I crossed my arms over my chest. A chuckle reverberated through him.

"Well, you'll never know if you don't go look," he patted my shoulder. "VIIIIC! Where are you?"

I ground my teeth together, and glared up at my brother. "I despise you," I muttered. He chuckled again, "Nooo you don't, Nessie," he ruffled my hair and continued, "You hate her." He removed his arm from my shoulder and turned to find his...girlfriend- a Miss Camilla Daniels.

Camilla Daniels. There isn't a whole lot to say about Camilla Daniels that you haven't already heard describing some other snotty cheerleader. She's the type that you just know will be back for the 25th year reunion, with a fabulously rich (and probably tan) husband, and will aim to sleep with Victor (her ex-boyfriend). She had perfect blonde hair, soft hazel eyes and a cheerleader's figure. Ugh, she irked me to no end.

Turning, I followed my brother inside the rowdy house. This was sure to be a fun night.

I stepped inside, my knee-high boots clacking against the tile of the kitchen. "Vanessa!" I smiled, "Hi, Jocelyn." I examined my drunk best friend. She had a drunk Robbie Bryant attached to her neck. "I'm having so much fun!" she giggled.

"I bet," I whispered lightly under my breath.

"Oh! Robbbbie!" she continued. I rolled my eyes, and walked out of the kitchen.

I leaped over the puddle of vomit soaking into the tan carpet as I entered the heated living room. Once over the disgusting pool, I scanned the room for anyone even remotely sober.

"Hey, Vanessa."

I looked up to see Zachery Flores. The timid freshmen who hit it big time on the varsity soccer team this year. "Hi, Zachery," I smiled at him. He was a sweet kid, and I could tell he hadn't had a single drink tonight.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned playfully. He seemed to warm up after that. He shrugged and grinned.

"No idea. Camilla picked me up."

I nodded, it all made sense now. It was a minute or two before we spoke again. "Are you alright, Vanessa?" It took me a little while to analyze what he'd said, fore I found myself staring at Pierce Riley. Strong and silent, darkly handsome- Pierce Riley. The "scary" one. The one only invited to the party because they were scared what would happen if they didn't.

I sighed, and turned my gaze back to Zachery, "Fine. But... you don't happen to have a driver's license do you?"

He laughed heartily, "Um... no, I'm only fourteen..." he wrung his hands together. "Don't you have one?" I nodded, "I do. But I'm lacking a car," I frowned. He was grinning as he nodded, and to say it was infectious was an understatement. I grinned too, knowing that by the end of the year he'd be one of the most popular guys in school. And by Junior year, he'd be soaking up the attention... he'd learn to love it.

"Yo! Van-es-a!"

I ground my teeth, and closed my eyes. Please, please, please, not him."Hey, sexy." Too late. Zachery sighed, "See you later, Vanessa." Poor guy, I think I was his only sober company at this party. I frowned and looked up at him.

Tanner Fuller. The biggest prick in all of Everett. And, no matter how many times I try to reject him, he remains under the belief that we are a "thing". Messy, greasy brown locks. Dangerously soft brown eyes. A slight fuzz dusting his chin and jaw. Thin lips, thin eyebrows and a dwindling brain cell count.

"Hello, Tanner." I shrugged his arm off my shoulder, my nose wrinkling at the smell of alcohol. "So, sexy, wanna go... get a room?" I sighed. How very blunt of him. I looked up at him, his eyes were red and glassy. Great, he was high. But, a fuck was a fuck to him, I suppose.

"Not at all." I pushed him off me. He fell to the floor laughing maniacally. I rolled my eyes, and stomped out of the room. I hate parties!, my head screamed. And, I do. Despite my unwavering social status, I despise parties, and alcohol, and drugs and all these stupid people that love those things.

Soo... what'd ya' think? Hmm...? Please tell me! I'll give you a figurative cookie. :)

Review!

Happy 4th of July (eve)!

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