I waited a few moments before going inside.

My mouth started getting sticky from nerves

as waves of anxiety whirled in my stomach.

This party was more intense than the one I went to yesterday.

The musky scent of everyone's sweat mixing together

along with the nasty, bitter smell of weed

registered in my mind.

I walked my way through the house

until stopping in front of a door.

Girls were stripped down to their bras and underwear

as guys poured narrow white lines of powder

on their skin.

Kids in the back of the room were leaning against each other

as puffs of smoke emitted from their noses and mouths.

My eyes connected with a guy's in the back of the room,

but before he could say anything,

I turned around and sped out of there.

My heart pounded in my chest

as I looked back.

And I couldn't help but feel stupid.

I couldn't help but wonder

if I had finally gone insane.

Because who in their right minds

would follow a group of guys to a party?

Head still turned,

my body crashed into something.

And in the next moment,

I was sprawled out on the floor.

A string of profanity left the guy's mouth as he

crouched down next me.

I'm so so sorry.

I fixed my eyes on his disheveled hair

and black rimmed glasses.

Are you okay?

His voice was soft

and laced with worry.

Without even knowing it,

tension rolled out from my shoulders

leaving me more at ease.

Accepting his offer in helping me up,

I nodded my head.

Yeah. Thanks.

It was silent for a moment as he pushed up his glasses.

Would you like to join me in having a drink?

His question surprised me.

My immediate reaction was to politely shake him off,

but as I stared up at his face,

red tinted his cheeks and ears.

Sorry, that was lame.

Would you like a drink?

With me?

Or, I mean-

His stuttering caused a grin to settle on my face,

and for the first time that day,

peace washed over me.

Sure,

I said cutting him off.

I'd love to.

~Sarah