Montage // Billie Eilish

You know how the Great Wall of China is visible from space? Well, Drew's house was audible from space. It was heaving with people and pulsed like a heart. I could practically see the sound waves. I didn't need to worry about being early. By the looks of things, half the kids here had been day drinking since graduation had finished at four. Why hadn't I thought of that?

The noise sucked me in like a black hole. Someone had hooked up their phone to enormous professional-grade speakers that stood outside the front door like odd, modern sentinels. The music was so loud I couldn't just hear it, I could feel it pounding inside my body, making my heart thump in rhythm with the beat. I liked it like that. 

I let myself get pulled into the orbit of people congregating in the garden, slipping in between bodies, suffocating in a blanket of smoke, aftershave, and sweat. Being June in a heat wave, most people had opted for outdoors. It was still warm and bright at eight. Even so, once I'd gotten into the house, it was so crowded, navigating my way to the kitchen was like a special round of The Crystal Maze or the zombie apocalypse. I had my eye out for Quen or Odessa so I could avoid them if I had to, but neither had replied to the group message that went out, so I wasn't expecting them. Hands grabbed me and people called my name, but I couldn't see who they were. I squeezed through arms and legs and a tangle of intertwined people who had decided foreplay was a spectator sport, and they were putting on a good show.

The kitchen heaved like a living organism. People slithered over one another, through gaps in cliques, to reach the fridge or the door. It looked strangely choreographed, and I felt out of place like a scientist observing it under a microscope instead of being part of it.

Luckily I'd been to plenty of Drew's parties before and I knew where the solution would be. I skittered around two people who were basically dry humping against the kitchen island to reach the freezer and sure enough, several bottles of vodka were nestled among the luxury ice cream and ice cube trays. If you're wondering what kind of kid has free alcohol at their party, it's the really rich kind. I pulled a blue bottle from under a bag of frozen peas and used my sleeve to wipe off the frost on the neck. I grabbed an empty cup and started to fill it with the vodka, clumsily spilling a little over the sides.

"Is that yours?" A girl had taken a stool at the kitchen island, and I hadn't noticed her watching me. She'd been obscured by the humpers before. She had wavy blonde hair that was tied up in a loose updo. She was round and soft in her face and her body. I liked it. 

"Drew owes me." I spoke far too quietly for the noise of the kitchen and gave her my crooked half smile that always worked. She leaned in over the counter to hear me better, and I could see a hint of bubblegum-pink lace peeking out of her top. I leaned forward too.

"Oh, does he?" The girl seemed unconvinced, but maybe a little amused. She was cute, even if she was an officer of the Vodka Crimes Unit.

"What's it to you?"

I watched her lips move as she replied. "This is my uncle's house. I'm staying for the summer."

"You're related to Drew? How sad for you." I rubbed her shoulder sympathetically, casually, as if I wasn't noticing how soft her skin was. She locked eyes with me as I did.

"You'll need one of these," I said, and I poured us each a shot into (hopefully) clean plastic cups. I pressed one into her hand, letting my fingers linger for a second. I downed mine, the heat sliding down my throat and into my belly, but she set hers aside and took a sip from a can of Sprite.

"Living life on the wild side?" I remarked with a smirk.

"Is this the famous peer pressure I've heard so much about?" she said. She leaned back, breaking out of my orbit. Damn. "Are you the cool girl who's going to shove me in a locker because I don't drink?" She laughed to herself and hopped off the stool. My eyes followed her to the door, taking in the beachy waves in her hair, her bare shoulders, and tight jeans hugging curves that made me bite my lip, hard.