I've been to this party before.

I mean, I haven't. Clearly I haven't, but at the same time... I have.

I've been to this party so many times I could go home now, and still know everything that took place. I could tell you what songs were played. I could tell you who hooked up with who. I could tell you that the alcohol tasted like a watered down version of what it was supposed to taste like. I could tell you that the air smelled like sweat. It mixed with the scent of pheromones coming from the dancing teenagers, all of whom were drunk out of their minds. It clung to the air, sneaking into your nostrils. Making you either want to join them in their sloppy grinding in the middle of the cleared out living room, or vomit.

I should go home. I wish I was at home. I wish I was anywhere but here.

But, I can't be anywhere but here. I need to be here, because if I'm not here then I'll be asked why I'm not here. If I'm asked why I'm not here then I would have to lie, because if I were to be honest they would ask more questions. So in attempt to keep myself out of the never ending circle of questions, I'm here.

"Lilly! Take this." The slurring sounds of my best friends voice brings the sound of the thumping music back. It had been quiet in mind, just for a second. The loud, rhythmic vibrations had all but vanished, replaced by only a quiet humming. My best friend Clara stood in front of me, holding one shot glass in each of her hands.

I took it without question. I was already drunk, but one more couldn't hurt. Who knows? Maybe it will even help. I ran my eyes over Clara as she downed the other shot. Her blonde hair was dishevelled. The sandy coloured strands were gathered into a messy pony tail, the base of which was tangled into one gigantic knot. Almost as if it had been clumped in someone's fist.

And... judging from the rest of her appearance, I'd be willing to bet that's exactly what happened. The right side of her white tube top was pulled down, her nude bra on display. Her black eye makeup had found itself on the skin beneath her eyes. I guess whatever she was choking on had made her eyes water.

My best friend of thirteen years. The honour role, class president with more extracurricular activities than the Ivy League colleges will know what to do with.

One of those extracurricular activities was being... promiscuous.

Not in a bad way. I loved it for her. She didn't care about boys, she only cared about how those boys made her feel. On her terms, when she wanted it and how she wanted it. I couldn't blame her. I've never judged her for it. Though I've never been able to follow her lead, I've always ended up falling in love before I knew it. Not for the last two months, however. Another one of the many consequences for our bad behaviour. Another one of the many consequences for the never ending list of secrets, of lies. They're one and the same here. I can't tell where the lies end and the secrets begin.

And our secrets... our secrets were enough to ruin all of our lives. Our secrets were a one way ticket to jail, if anyone ever uncovered the truth... and we all knew it.

"Take it!" Clara squealed out, too drunk to meaningfully notice the way I had zoned out. She pushed the shot glass towards my mouth, grabbing my jaw with her other hand and pulling it open. She pushed the shot glass over, the brown liquid falling onto my tastebuds and making them squeal with displeasure. Whisky. Who the fuck even likes whisky?

"You know that I hate whisky." I coughed out, almost choking on my own saliva in disgust. I yanked my head away from Clara's hands, walking briskly to the kitchen in search of anything to get the putrid taste of whisky out of my mouth. I didn't care to see who each person was as I elbowed them out of my way. I grabbed an open can of coke off the counter, not worrying who's it was as I drank from it quickly.

Once the taste was almost gone, I leaned back against the counters. I watched the people who were here. The girls grouped together in duets and trios, pretending not to notice the way the boys stared at them. The boys, on the other hand, were not pretending for a second that they didn't all have their eyes focused on the girls.

It was always the same people at these parties. Never any variety. The same people who would kiss tonight, had already swapped spit with the other one's best friend last weekend. The same people who were flirting with each other, they had flirted with each other last weekend. They would flirt again next weekend. Then, maybe the weekend after that they would finally fuck, and then they would ignore each other the weekend after that.

It was always the same. Don't they get bored? Don't they want more?

And not in a preachy, judgemental way. I don't mean that kind of don't they want more for themselves? I mean... don't they want more? Don't they want to dance with people they haven't known since sixth grade? Don't they want to make out with strangers? Don't they want to flirt with people who didn't know what kind of cake they had on their 14th birthday?

I want more. Why don't they?

"If you keep acting like this, people are going to get suspicious." The voice that whispered in my ear made me shrink back on impulse.

"Can you not touch me?" I told Jesse, ripping his hand away from my waist.

"Can you not act like a total bitch?" Jesse whispered back. He removed his hand, but only because he placed it on my lower back instead. I wondered how the same touch that used to give me butterflies now just made me nauseous. "My girlfriend wouldn't just stand here alone in the kitchen, watching everyone like a creep."

"I'm not your girlfriend anymore." I reminded him, and I hoped my voice held even a trace of the displeasure I felt at the fact that he was speaking to me. Not that I needed to remind him. I told him every chance I got.

"I know that. You know that. But they don't." Jesse cast his eyes over the group of people that were standing a few feet away from us. They were already sending curious glances our way. "We don't need people to start talking, we don't need people to start asking questions."

"I know." I said quietly, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek for show. He's right, even though I wished he wasn't. We didn't need people talking. We didn't need people asking questions.

"Good girl." Jesse smiled back at me. "Now why don't you go back with Clara, and act how you're supposed to act. You're too pretty to sit here and pout. Drink, dance, have fucking fun Lilly."

I faux smiled at him, feeling his touch disappear as I moved away from him. I didn't want to go find Clara, though. I didn't want to go pretend to have fun. I'm so tired of pretending to have fun. I'm tired of pretending that I enjoy this. I'm tired of pretending that I'm not a fucking bad person. We all are. Me, Clara, Jesse, Brett, Khalil. We're bad people.

I went outside instead, feeling the chill of the autumn night kissing at my bare skin. There was a lot of bare skin for it to kiss, after all. My legs were bare, my arms were bare, my midriff was bare. It was all bare. I'm bare.

I walked without a purpose, my eyes focused on the sky instead. The stars were peaking out through the faint clouds. They were bright, even through those clouds. They looked like beacons of hope, the way they sparkled against the black background. So brightly, they glimmered and they sparkled. They sparkled like how my smile used to sparkle. They glimmered like how my eyes used to glimmer. I don't sparkle anymore. I don't glimmer. I'm dull now.

I walked down the uneven side walk, feeling relief swell inside of me as the music started to fade in real life this time. Each step I took further away from the party, the music became less and less loud. I used to like the thumping of music, the way it pulsed through my body, igniting all my nerves at once. Not lately. I much preferred the silence lately.

As I brought my eyes down from the sky, looking in front of me, I could see the outline of someone. Whoever they were, they were sitting on a car hood. I could see the faint glow from the cigarette they were smoking. He looked up at me as I approached him. They closer I got, the more I could see him. I faintly recognized him. He might go to my school. He might not. He wasn't the kind of person I would know. I knew that just from first sight. The way he was sitting, the way he was smoking, the way he was looking at me. It all screamed one thing... not my type.

He didn't move as I walked up to him, except his hand, which had pulled the cigarette from his mouth. Even in the dark, I could tell his eyes were blue. Bright blue.

"Can I have one?" I asked him. I don't know why I asked him that. I don't smoke. I've never smoked. None of my friends smoked.

He didn't answer, he just retrieved the pack of cigarettes out from the pocket of his leather jacket. He pulled one out, handing it to me. I placed it in between my lips, not knowing what to do next. I had to light it, but I didn't have a lighter.

I guess he knew that too, because he leaned forward, his face only inches away from mine. He pressed his lit cigarette against my own. I watched with intrigue as my own cigarette started to burn. When he leaned his head back away, I took an inhale. I felt the smoke as it forced itself into my throat, and eventually down into my lungs. It scratched my flesh as it went by, as though it was made of barbed wire and my throat was made of silk.

He didn't laugh when I started coughing my lungs out. He should have. I would have. I'm sure I looked like a fool, asking for a cigarette yet not knowing how to smoke. He didn't laugh though, he just kept staring at me, the same look of apprehension on his face.

"That's fucking gross." I finally said, after drawing in some much needed air. When I flicked my eyes back towards him, he was still looking at me. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the ground, breaking his gaze at last. "I'm just wondering why Lilly Green is asking me for a cigarette."

I titled my head at his use of my name. He must go to my school. The knowledge of that didn't surprise me. There were a lot of people that went to my school that I wouldn't be able to recognize in public. That's what happens when you're confined to the same group of kids for so many years.

"My name isn't Lilly." I told him. "It's Lilac."

He seemed surprised at my words. Not that I can blame him. I've been called Lilly since elementary school. But... it's not my name. I hate that nickname.

"Sure." He nodded before climbing off the hood of the car. He stepped right in front of me, so close that I could smell his cologne. So close that I could feel the zipper of his leather jacket pressing into my bare torso. I didn't step back. I looked at his blue eyes instead, because they were looking back at my green ones.

"Have fun, Lilac Green. Doing... whatever it is that you're doing." He said, and then he opened his car door and slid in.

I watched him as he pulled away, and my eyes followed his silver car as it sped down the street. I hadn't even asked his name, I realized.

Not that it would matter. I could never know someone like him.