It was supposed to be just another party. One of those gatherings where you go with a couple of friends, and end up in the corner with the resident's pet. And there you'd sit, just staring out into the crowd, noting everyone pairing off and getting wasted. You don't know why you bother coming to these, and half the time you aren't even sure why you're friends with these people. After a drink or two, all they do is tease you. You're the virgin, you never get nailed, you never cut loose, hell - you probably don't even like boys! Maybe you're a lesbian. You don't let it bother you though. You pride yourself on not being the friend with the likelihood of a fungus growing out of your vagina. And at least they are still paying attention to you, so they can't be all that bad.

You shouldn't have worried this time, though. It seemed that the moment you entered the house, they vanished almost instantly. You actually find yourself disoriented from the sudden lack of friends. Sighing, you find yourself questioning your friendship with these people again, and begin to wander around aimlessly. Subconsciously, you find yourself scanning the crowd, looking for a corner or a couch or something you can just sit and not be bothered. Preferably with a cat, that way you'll have someone intelligent to talk to. But the more you wander, the more you come up empty. Sighing again, you decide it might be worth a shot to actually try and enjoy yourself for once.

You wander into the kitchen, and find the customary cluster of shitty beer laying around. You find one that seems undamaged, and crack it open. If you're going to have a good time, you need to start somewhere, you think to yourself. And a beer is as good a place as any. You cringe, however, when the smell of it hits your nose. And again as you take the first sip. Literally shaking it off, you take a longer swig, and then turn around to leave. The kitchen is far to crowded to do much of anything, and that's not fun at all.

You turn around, and suddenly you're staring into my chest. Your feet keep trying to carry you forward, and I'm pushed back a bit, spreading out an arm to keep my balance. I look down at you curiously, just as you look up at me. Your eyes linger on me for a moment, and I can feel you summing me up. I'm older than you, but not by much. I watch your eyes trace over my cheekbones, and then my eyes are wandering. I look at you, modestly dressed. I can see the outline of your tits, and just a bit of cleavage from your top, and I can't help but get a grin. You're going to be fun.

You open your mouth, about to say hi, when your mother's voice pops into your heard, and you're suddenly listening to a lecture about strangers. You gulp back the smile, and take a swig of your beer.