Chapter Text
"I really should've worn something heavier..." Chloe complained as she walked through the door with you, Brooke and Jenna. Yes, dressing up as a sexy baby in a fake diaper with no leggings and a bonnet wasn't the best idea, but Chloe just had to do it. Jenna chuckled as her blonde friend shivered, and opened the door which welcomed them to the warm air, even though Chloe was still shaking. As you all walked in, stepping on the now dirty rug (which you were sure Jake's parents would beat his ass for getting dirty), you could hear music, already drunk teenagers, and Brooke telling Chloe over everything ear deafening, "Well its not my problem you wanted to be a slutty baby with no onesie!" with a clear annoyance in her voice. You made sure to give your jacket to Chloe, knowing it would be at least somewhere below 50 at night, but she must've left it in the car; it wasn't on any of you girls, and you seriously had to remember to get it before you left. Like Chloe told the group before they arrived, "whatever you leave behind is now mine". And you didn't want to see if she wasn't kidding. That jacket was an early birthday present for yourself, and cost you half of what you earned from work. You hoped to get into the car before the girls did when the party ends, because chances are they'll leave you behind and you'll have to call an Uber or something. No, the four of you weren't best friends, but you were somewhere near that. You were friends with Chloe back in kindergarten, and maybe Jenna. Brooke came along one day in first grade, and she joined the group of friends. But overtime, you all faded apart. Well, except for you and Jenna. Jenna kept in touch with you all throughout the 8th grade by texting after getting your number after school when your rides were late. You and Jenna have been keeping up for a while, and as much as you felt Brooke hated you, she let you hang out with them for a while. Being glad Brooke liked you, Jenna happily invited you to the party, as she wanted to hang out with you again. It was a mystery of why Brooke liked you now when she didn't even breath the same air as you in freshmen year. But, you did manage to become prettier, even without makeup, and you never saw the girls all throughout high school until now. Speaking of those girls, they now all spread out; Chloe was the first to leave, walking over to a group of boys to flirt and chat. Jenna and Brooke must've wandered off too, as they were out of your sight. You sighed, relived the girls were enjoying themselves, and that you were out of their range for a while; any longer with them would get some boys to trample you trying to get to the girls and possibly you. You walked towards the refreshment table, pushing some people out of your way, and nearly tripping over someone dressed up as a ninja turtle like you, only dressed as Leonardo. You however were dressed as Donatello. You sighed as the purple mask began slipping, causing you to tie it tighter and even double tying it. God, were you thirsty all of a sudden. Jake said there would be drinks, right? Of course there would be, it was right next to you when you turned. You looked at the table and spotted only booze. Where did Jake get all of this from? It was probably him and Rich walking into the liquor store with some fake IDs and buying a mountain of Coors and- was that a Fireball bottle on the table? How did he managed to get his hands on that, and was he even going to drink it? You didn't want to know how he got it, and just made your way over to the open fridge, with a scratched up sign that said 'HANDS OFF!' written neatly in a black sharpie. It was probably from his mom, since you have never seen him write that neatly. As much as you hated it, the sign was starting to look...crappier...by the second. You made sure no one was looking, then quickly threw the paper out in the near black bag. You didn't want Jake thinking you'd stay to clean up his mess, or that you were trying to ruin the party with a fight if it was HIS writing. The last thing you needed was to come home late with bruises all over your face, a bloody nose and teared skin. You especially didn't want anyone home to clean you up, as you liked to clean your own wounds. Your first wound you cleaned was a small scratch, which you cleaned up easily, and your second one was after you had gotten into a fight. When you let someone touch your injuries, you had to go to the hospital to get taken care of, because one of the wounds got infected. And to this day you clean yourself. As you looked around, you spotted Jake climbing up the steps with that overly excited theatre girl. You had to admit she was cute. You went to her last play where she played as Juliet, and you liked her performance more than you'd like school plays in general. As you looked at them walk up the steps, you heard Jake bang on the door and scream for Jeremy and someone else. You couldn't tell over the screaming and music and decided to ignore it. Going back to your phone, you stepped by the fridge where someone was already. They were wearing what seemed to be a sexy skeleton outfit; she wore black leggings with bones on them and a dress that marked where her torso was, as well as minimum skeleton paint. You asked them if you were allowed to take food from the fridge, in which they ignored. After a minute of standing, they went back into the crowd after their supposed boyfriend in a blue body suit with the hood zipped down came to grab them. You stood by the fridge, checking your phone a couple of times, and waited for someone to just walk to the fridge. As much as you hated an open fridge, who cared? Jake's parents would pay it off easily. Plus you were eying that turkey for a while now as well as some of that Pepsi. No way in hell were you going to drink some cheap beer, any alcohol of the sort, or even that type of beer in general. You were now officially bored and hungry as hell. You should stop by a McDonalds or something on the way home. Maybe take a drive up to Little Silver or Shrewsbury with someone. Opening your phone, you swipe through your apps, checking Instagram, playing some different games you downloaded, and just waiting for someone to stop by that fridge so you could eat something other than expired cupcakes on the table next to the drinks. As you send a snap to one of your friends, you heard someone banging on the bathroom door repeatedly, and enjoying themselves. It seemed like a girl and guy were slamming their fists against it. As soon as you saw them stop after what seemed like forever, you made your way over to the bathroom door, since everyone was now moving in the opposite direction. You eye some of the people moving, some dancing harder and turning up the music. You made sure no one was by the door and walked to it, knocking on it.
"Hey, you okay in there?" You ask from the other side of the door. You could hear the person in there recollect them self, and wait a few seconds. You were ready to give up or call again since they didn't respond and thought it was just you hearing things. Suddenly, the familiar turn of the doorknob creeks at last, and you see a boy with a set of pointed circular frames, messed black hair, and a black sweater, with the words on it spelled out to read 'C REEP S', the C on his right arm and the S on his other. The shirt looks between either home-made or bought in a store and designed poorly. From what it looks, he was crying from the look of the whites in his eyes pink. Or was he just high? A small sniffle seemed to disapprove your theory of smoking anything. You asked once more if everything was alright. He paused, staring at the ground, making you worried. You hated seeing anyone upset, especially in big crowds; it made them feel smaller than they all ready were in sizes mentally and physically. He shook his head no, and you placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You want to...get out of here? If you're not okay you can leave with me." You said to him calmly. He nodded immediately and you took him with you outside. One arm was wrapped around him, and vice versa for him. You both managed to make your way through the large crowd of intoxicated teenagers, and pushed the door open, as it seemed like no one bothered in closing it. You and the 'CREEPER' boy began walking, past at least three teens who had managed to start a small fire in the grass and run around it for fun. It was obvious they were drunk. If that got out of control, Jake's parents would kick him out of the country all together. As your feet both hit the asphalt street, no cars in sight, you make your way over to yours, pulling out your keys. You pressed the unlock button on the remote and follow the sound of the two beeps, and the lights that flashed for a minute. As you take your keys, jingling them carelessly, you mentally slap yourself; you can't drive anywhere without your crew. You quickly text Brook, telling her you were leaving, and if she wanted to come or find a ride home. There wasn't anything you could do, and you were already in the car, getting things sorted out with both Brook and the boy now sitting inside your Grey Volkswagen GTI. You hoped to god he wasn't intoxicated at all, since you didn't want throw up on your seats, especially after someone else threw up all over them once. You feel the boy touch your hand gently, and you give him a reassuring look, telling him everything will be okay with a look of your (E/C) eyes, and a upturn of the right corner of your purple colored lips. You take off the little bandana, giving it to him as he begins to cry again. Over the middle console, you feel a buzz in your pocket, in which you secretly check. Brook finally texted you back, telling you she'll get an Uber for the three of them, just as long as you paid her back tomorrow. You respond with a yes with your dominant hand, while your other is holding the other boy. With a smile, you read the text and ask him "You wanna get some Wendys?". He nods and chuckles, in which you turn the key and start driving, waving goodbye to a now passed out kid who retreated from the small and now put out fire in your head. You hope things go okay for Jake, because if you were his mom or dad and came home to two kids carrying another passed out kid across the lawn, you'd be furious. You'd be even more furious to see a kid throwing up into your front lawn, and then walk back inside the house.
Driving, the boy sighs and reclines the seats a bit, smiling. You ask if its okay to roll down the windows, since your car always finds a way to heat up even in the coldest weather and you don't want you both to get heatstroke. You could use a car like this in an apocalyptic winter. He says he doesn't mind, and in which you roll down the windows, letting both of your hair fly free and wildly. He closes his eyes and places his glasses in his hand in which he rests on his stomach, ignoring everything, even the terrible scent of gasoline New Jersey held. God, you could never stand it, even as a kid. His phone goes off multiple times, text messages, phone calls and just notifications from social media. As he's about to check it and pick it up, he groans and throws it in the glove compartment after shutting it off and going back to his peaceful sleep. Driving down the multiple streets, you finally make a turn into the Wendys drive through. You shake him awake, in which he hums.
"What do you want to eat...I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." You tell him awkwardly. You really should've caught it before you left the party; for all you know he could be a famous serial killer you just took to Wendys. He sits up and introduced himself as Michael Mell first and repeating the question again, you order your meals and head into the parking lot to relax and eat. This is calming; just sitting, listening to his choice of music on the radio and becoming full of junk. To be honest, he was really starting to get you into Bob Marley now. Looking over to Michael, you smile as he sings along and closes his eyes while he foes so, and look up at the little but some dots in the sky; you can clearly make out the little dipper. During your midst of checking on Michael, you happened to catch a glimpse of the clock out of the corner of your eye. It was almost twelve o'clock, and you'd be dead meat if you were home later than one. Turning the key again to start up the car, you put it into gear, and drive out of the parking lot. At twelve seventeen, you made your way to Michael's house after following his directions once back in Red Bank. The tires stopped in front of his house, and you wished him a good night out of the drivers window when he got out. Before he could walk back up to the house, you added him onto your Snapchat, telling him to send her anything in case he needed anything. He nodded, wished you goodnight, in which you replied the same. Checking the time once more, you drove home.
By the time you arrived home, it was about twelve thirty, since you did happen to stop at a couple of red lights and drop Michael off at home. As you pulled your keys out of the slot, you wondered where he would be tomorrow. Sure, you've seen him around freshman year and some during your Sophomore year probably, but never once have you seen him during Junior. Leaning back in your chair, you picked up your phone, checking the time after your car turned off and hurried out of the car, closing the door as you grabbed everything you needed and walked up to the door. Taking the silver keys from the chain of three keys you had, one for the house and the other two as car keys (a backup in case you lost the first one), you unlocked the house after fumbling with one of them and slipped inside the house, pushing the screen door open and walking quietly to your bedroom. Even though you weren't in trouble, you couldn't help but feel guilty; you rarely ever came home later than nine, especially on a school night. Once managing to sneak into your room without waking anyone up, you slipped into your pajamas and fell into the sheets under.
You couldn't help but feel like something was wrong, because when you fell asleep, you heard police sirens and ambulance ones as well, which quickly faded off into the distance, leaving you time to sleep and wonder what they were chasing after.