After going back to Rory's house to change into more appropriate party attire, the girls drive to the neighborhood over. They haven't even reached the house yet and can hear the music a block away. Luckily, the thrower of the party, Parker Dyer, lives in a big house on a large plot of land.

"We're in the rich kid corner now." Rory laughs as she gazes out the windows, gawking internally at the mansions she drives past.

She turns the car onto the next street and they are finally able to see their destination.

Emily nods in the passenger seat of the car. "Imagine having that much money..." She glances back over to her friend whose red lips stand out against her light blonde hair and black body-con dress.

"Come on now, darling," Rory says in a shrill, British accent while putting the car in park. "We're rich in other, more important things, unlike these fancy pants." Her voice returns back to normal.

"Pray tell?" Emily raises her eyebrows. An amused smile plays on her lips.

Rory grins. "Good humor for one. But other than that, I'd say we're rich in love."

A hearty laugh escapes Emily's pink lips. "That was so cheesy." She opens the door of the car and steps one of her black heel-clad feet onto the pavement, followed by the other.

"Love you too." Rory laughs, getting out of the car now as well.

Crawling out the backdoor. Didn't leave a mark. No one knows it's you, Miss Jackson. Found another victim. But no one's gonna find, Miss Jackson.

Miss Jackson, by Panic at the Disco, plays loudly from every direction on the lawn. Every inch of it is filled with dancing, drunk teenagers.

Emily pulls at the hem of her black skater dress and follows close behind Rory as they weave their way through the yard. "Rory, where are we going?" She shouts over the music. Her eyes stay trained on her blonde hair that was pulled up into a high, sleek ponytail.

"You'll see!" Rory shouts back.

Oh no, is Emily's first thought.

"Hey, ladies!" A bright voice calls over the music. "I'm glad you could make it!" Jack Tatum's smiling face appeared in the crowd, causing Emily's heart to skip a beat.

Emily doesn't even have to see Rory's face to know she's grinning. "Oh, hey, Jack. Fancy seeing you here."

It takes a lot of willpower from Emily not to roll her eyes and pinch the girl next to her. She's not quite sure how they ended up friends. Instead, she pushes a lock of her curled hair behind her ear.

Jack throws his head back and laughs. Amusement shines in his bright, hazel eyes. They land on Emily, who is not quite as amused as him. "Come on, Emily. Let's get you loosened up." He stretches his hand out to her. "Dance with me," he tells her.

The brunette bites her bottom lip, fully aware of Rory's penetrating stare next to her. If she doesn't respond, Rory is bound to say something that will embarrass her further. So, with that in mind, she agrees. "Sure."

Emily takes Jack's hand. Her heart beats rapidly and her brain screams: shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. 

Jack leads them through the crowd so that they are in the middle of other teenagers. Everyone else is grinding and dancing in ways that make Emily want to splash holy water in her eyes.

Her eyes cast upward from the ground to finally meet Jack's eyes which are watching her curiously. He grins and it causes Emily to smile. Her smile isn't fake, or nervous, it's real for the first time in all of their fatally awkward encounters.

His hands find her waist and he pulls her closer to him. He begins to move his body to the beat. His hand gently pulls at Emily's waist, encouraging her to move with him.

Emily, almost a foot shorter than him, gets the memo. Her hips slowly begin to move to the beat of Cake By The Ocean which has just started to play. Her hands find their way to her hair and she bounces on the balls of her feet while still moving her body fluidly. Her mind drifts away from Jack.

The only thing Emily can do without being a wreck it seems like, is dancing. Five years of dance when she was younger helped. But mainly, Rory's younger sister is in a hip-hop dance crew and occasionally she recruits Emily to help fill in for someone who drops out of a performance last minute.

Emily's pretty bad with her words. I think the past 24 hours have been proof enough of that. But when it comes to dancing, it's hard for her to be clumsy. Her hips move to the beat perfectly. She feels free for the first time in a long time. Expectations don't trap her.

When the song ends, Emily is brought back to reality. She laughs out of pure happiness. She and Jack are both breathing heavily. Emily stops moving and laughs again. She can't stop it. This causes Jack to look at her oddly. He smiles regardless.

"I haven't done that in forever." Emily breathes out. Her smile is permanent on her lips.

Jack looks intently at the girl in front of him. His eyes are glazed over with an emotion that Emily doesn't recognize. She shifts under his gaze, her smile dimming. "What?"

He smirks in response. "You finally loosened up." He laughs when Emily hits him on the arm playfully.

"I'm going to get a drink," Emily shouts over the music.

Jack nods and watches her leave the mass of sweaty bodies. His mouth parts, the smirk leaving his lips and replaced with a curious smile.

Emily sees people coming out the front door of the house with red solo cups. Her feet carry her up the steps of the large house, or rather, small mansion.

She doesn't have to look long for the kitchen since the floor plan is very open. On the outside, the architecture is a mix between modern and Italian villa vibes. The inside, however, is purely modern.

In the kitchen, a very long, black marble island holds about fifty bottles of assorted liquor, many cans of beer, and different syrups, juices, and condiments to make cocktails.

Emily's eyes set on the alcohol and flashes of her brother enter her mind. His dull blue eyes and straight brown hair, still neatly styled from the party he was at.

"Shut up, Emily. I'll have as much as I want, you're not my mother." He swiped the bottle of whiskey out of her hand, his blue eyes lacking their vibrance. He glared at her from under dark eyelashes.

"'Sup, Thompson." Parker Dyer struts into the room, flicking his hair out of his face with a subtle whip of his head.

Snapping out of her memories, Emily looks up to find Parker pouring some things into his cup.

"Want a drink?" He offers, glancing up after squeezing a lime wedge into his red solo cup. His dark brown eyes stare into hers as he waits for a response.

She steps forward, standing directly across from him. She sets her hands on the island. "I don't drink alcohol."

Parker nods. "I know. I meant like a..." He looks at the ceiling while biting his lip. "Mocktail." He grins and looks back to the brunette, tilting his head to the side slightly.

Emily stares back at him, silently wondering how Parker is so oblivious to his own actions. Just today he was poking fun at the girl in the hallway. And now, here he is, offering to make her a drink. "I don't get you." She ends up blurting it out. She's not able to keep her thoughts in her head.

Parker chuckles at her comment. "And how so?" His eyebrows, which were light brown instead of dyed blonde like his hair, rise in amusement. It causes the skin on his forehead to wrinkle.

With a scoff, Emily throws her hands in the air. "Earlier today you were trying to embarrass me in the hallway."

Parker rolls his eyes. "No, I wasn't. I was poking fun at you and Jack because it was funny. You really think of me that low?"

Yes!!! Emily wants to yell at him and list the numerous amount of dumb things he's said over the years. However, she holds her tongue because, despite her judgments, she doesn't actually know Parker. "You have Coke?" She changes the subject.

The blonde-haired boy smirks, causing a dimple to appear on his cheek. "Mhm." He nods. "But tell you what. To apologize for earlier, I'll make it fancy." He winks at her.

A light blush appears on Emily's cheeks as Parker turns to open the fridge. He pulls out a jar of maraschino cherries and another bowl of lime wedges.

He grabs a can of coke from a smaller fridge under the counter and pops it open.

Emily watches him make the drink. Every now and she finds her eyes drifting to his back. The muscles in his upper arms flex beneath his white t-shirt, causing the fabric to stretch with every movement.

Parker spins around and holds out a red cup.

Emily's eyes glance down at it hesitantly.

"I'm not going to drug you, Thompson." A casual smile plays on his pink lips.

"I wasn't even thinking about that until now! But now I am!" Emily laughs. But in her mind, she is actually thinking about it as a possibility.

Parker chuckles and smoothly lifts the cup to his lips. He takes a drink and then holds out the cup again. He licks his lips and patiently waits for her to take it.

Emily grabs the cup this time and a small smile graces her lips. "Thank you, Parker."

"Don't sweat it." He winks before picking up his own cup and exiting the room.

A weird feeling sets in Emily's stomach, but she ignores it and takes a sip of the drink that Parker made for her. She smiles to herself.

Taking her cup with her, she exits the kitchen and walks towards the front of the house, towards the music. But before she reaches the door, she spots a figure out of the corner of her eye.

She turns her head to see Luke sitting on a bench. He is gazing out of the large front window with a cross between a grimace and amusement set across the bronze skin of his face.

Emily purses her lips, contemplating whether or not to say anything to him. She sighs. Screw it. Her feet begin to move towards the boy.

"So, do you always come to parties just to sit inside and stare at everyone else?" The words leave her lips before she can stop them.

Luke's head tilts up to look at her. His full lips pull into a smirk. His green eyes meet her wide blue ones. "Ah, you're the girl from earlier that was staring at my ass."

A/N

QOTD: What team? (Wildcats!) LOL, but for real, are you team Jack, Luke, Parker, or Carlos?

AOTD: Is all of them an answer?