At parties, the rooms were broken up into categories. Most people hung around the porch and the living room, basically loitering. People, mostly girls, huddled in the bathrooms to gossip. The converted basement was swarming with gamers, after they stole every TV possible in the house. Their cries of anguish could be heard by the next-door neighbors, over the pulsing pop music that absolutely no one was brave enough to start dancing to (with the exception of gross couples). They just weren't playing the right songs and I wasn't brave enough to add my playlist:

1. Let's Dance to Joy Division by The Wombats

2. Mr. 10pm Bedtime by GIRLI

3. Shake it Off by Taylor Swift

4. And You Don't Even Know It by Everybody's Talking About Jamie (Original West End Cast Recording)

5. Etc.

Two kinds of people hung out in the kitchen, the people who only came for the food and the people who brought something and they were obsessively checking to make sure people were trying it. My mom bought me napkins to take, but I didn't care as much as I just wanted my pick of the pizza and the birthday cake.

I was getting the feeling that Olivia, the birthday girl, caught onto my game of continuously refilling my red solo cup with coke and seemed a little miffed I was draining the household supply. My mom didn't let any soda, boys or happiness into the house. Little did she know, I only wanted two out of the three.

Offering Olivia a tight smile, I poured myself one more drink and stepped out of the kitchen. The music wasn't so loud I couldn't hear myself think and all the lights stayed on (a rule from Olivia's mom). I moved around the group of people laughing themselves silly over a game of Cards Against Humanity. I peeked into various rooms before I opened the front door.

I caught one second of Camille and jumped back when I noticed she was on the phone. I caught a few words and suddenly, I just had to stay and listen. She said, "Yeah, I miss you too..." I took a sip of her sappy sweetness and my stomach churned, placing a grimace on my lips. She continued in a soft voice reserved only for people she wanted to make out with, "No, no don't worry. The party is pretty dead anyways. Yeah, I'll probably leave soon...."

She glanced at the door, spotting me. I grinned innocently and stepped completely through onto the creaky porch. A mist of rain piddled from the sky. I could see each individual drop from the lamplight. Goosebumps trickled down my arms and I zipped up my hoodie.

I mouthed at Camille, crossing my arms, "Is that Him?" Capital Him. Capital Billy. I whispered with a little head nod, "Tell him I said hey."

"Okay," she said to him, not me. "Alright- okay, yeah. Bye Bills."

Before she could hang up, I snorted. "Bills? How many names does this kid have?"

"Fuck off." Camille grinned because of him, not me. She slid her phone into her back pocket. "So, are you like done with this scene? Cause I've been over it for an hour."

"We got here an hour ago."

"Is that a no?"

"It's a you're ridiculous, but yeah let's go. Can we go to your house?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Yeah, I wanna watch vine compilations and eat pizza."

"No one deserves you, not even Billy Bob."

"I hate you. As punishment..." She raised her brow, giving me a knowing look and hopped down each step off the porch. She grinned wickedly with what felt like sharp teeth. "Go find Parker."

"But do you know what makes an evening of memes better? No Parker."

"My mother's standard SUV does not leave the driveway without my ginger. I'll start the engine!" she called, already halfway down the walkway and waving her hand behind her. I whined, loud enough for her to hear and stomped my feet like a kid that just got told the word "no" for the first time. I totally forgot Camille even drove Parker here. She was like a ghost haunting my life and making it worse; like in all horror movies, I didn't have the sense to run away. By my own volition, I was walking down to the dark and scary basement to meet my maker.

"I don't even know where she is!" I insisted, but Camille was already gone, and the house pulsed behind me. With a sigh, I dragged myself back into the house and willingly looked for Parker. If I knew her like I thought I knew her, she was probably talking so much and so fast, she was giving herself hiccups.

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Let's thrash ya'll. True story, I have given myself the hiccups by talking too much/fast. Let's go find Parker and who better than Lizzie, right? We're getting so very close to Part Two :))