Underage drinking is illegal. But do you think that she cared? Hell no, she wasn't complaining, not tonight. For the first time ever, Sasha Braus was going to do things her way. Even if it meant getting completely wasted at a house party the night after high school graduation.

Having finished ninth in her class, the Braus girl felt a little sad, but a little not. She was now going to be stress-free for… for like three months. Frowning, the girl downed another shot of whiskey, the fiery liquid burning her throat. Just need to get a good buzz, forget about the stress, she told herself, taking a seat in the living room of the house, on a beige couch.

The music was loud, but the estate was large and just outside of town, so it wasn't bothering any neighbors. Since there were no neighbors, there weren't going to be anyone calling the cops on the kids.

Kids, she thought with a sneer, I'm 18, I'm an adult now. I do what I want. With a huff, she stretched out her arms and let them fall on either side of her, the right one extended onto the couch while the left lay on the armrest. Parties weren't her thing. All through high school, the only parties she got invited to were little get-togethers with her friends, where they marathoned action movies and ate twice their weight in popcorn and potato chips. Sasha hadn't drank much before—other than that one time she went to France when she was sixteen—but she did know her drinks.

She was supposed to be an honor student, doing her homework, getting straight-As, and getting into Ivy League universities. Sasha wasn't supposed to be drowning the pain and stress of the past four years in whiskey shots and wine coolers. High school was over, and yes she had a job this summer, waitressing at a little café in town, but that didn't start for another week. Therefore, she had plenty of time to just do whatever she wanted, whenever.

Suddenly, the music changed. It wasn't quieter, nor was the song something slower. It was upbeat, and the bass seemed to rock the entire floor of the house. She felt the pulse in her veins, her heart, and felt her foot tapping to the beat. Hazily, she stood up and wandered through the crowd, heading toward the stereo set in the next room over where people were dancing. It was far too loud for conversation, and the lights were turned off in this room, save a few by the built-in bar, obviously meant for entertaining adults, not drunk teenagers.

Wait, whose house was this again? Sasha couldn't remember, but that didn't bother her. Something that should have been of concern to her didn't seem to matter anymore. Instead this beat, this music filled her. As she glanced around the room, she saw bodies moving together in a mass. She wanted to join them. She wanted to be them.

Sasha wanted to be that girl over there, the girl in the cropped shirt and ridiculously short jean shorts, with the tall, hot guy behind her, grinding his hips on her, one hand on her waist, the other ridiculously close to her chest. Something that the girl should be uncomfortable with, but because of her intoxication, she didn't really care.

There, something told her to look to her right. Standing against the wall was a tall, incredibly handsome boy. Maybe it was just the lighting, but his hair almost seemed two-toned, with an undercut that no one without his jawline could pull off. He had a can of beer in his hand, and he was tapping a finger against it to the beat of the song. The flashing lights glared in her eyes for a moment, causing her to wince, but then she found her feet moving toward him.

The brunette girl wasn't shy at all, but she wasn't the type to just go up to a stranger. No, not a stranger. He finished in the top of the class above me, that much she could recall. His name, however, was not something she could remember. No matter, that typical precaution wasn't going to ruin her night. She was getting her dance.

Boldly, she stepped up to the broad-shouldered boy, smirked at him mischievously, and placed a finger on his chest. With a slight frown, he looked down at her, a questioning brow lifted.

"You. You're going to dance with me," Sasha stated. This wasn't a question, this was a demand.

"Why would I do that? I don't dance." He pursed his lips, gold eyes narrowing under a now furrowed brow.

"Because I want to dance like them," she gestured to the sweating couple she had watched earlier. That pair would've normally disgusted her, but Sasha wasn't in her right mind tonight.

Closely, she watched his eyes follow her hand, glancing at the two dancing, then slowly turned his chiseled face back to her. He tilted his head to the side, blinked, and nodded slowly. "Fine," he muttered, "But only because I'm drunk, and for some stupid reason I think you're hot."

Barely giving him time to set down his beer can, Sasha grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the dance floor. Immediately the music worked its way back into her veins, and suddenly her heart was pumping sound waves instead of blood. She turned her back to him, grabbed his forearms, and wrapped them around her body, placing them dangerously on the waistband of her shorts. At first they just swayed back and forth a bit, but as they both felt the song take over them—it was a new one now, but the beat was just as good—they got more into the movement.

Before she knew it, he was grinding his hips on her, she was moving her back and forth, arms in the air, bangs whipping in her eyes. With a drop of the bass in the song, she ripped her ponytail holder out of her long brown hair and ran her fingers through it, loosening it and causing it to be a hot mess. Sasha hardly knew what was going on, but the lights were flashing, the room was dark, but everything was vivid. In what she lacked visually, she made up for physically.

The way his fingers had moved under the hem of her shirt and brushed her skin sent shivers up her spine. Slowly, she felt his left hand moving from her waist to her hip, then her thigh—her inner thigh. This should be alarming, but it didn't even raise a red flag. In fact, it made her move more into him. She pressed her body against his, and with the hit of the next heavy bass note, she dropped herself down, bringing herself back up again, with her hips and rear leading her, dragging herself against his groin before rolling up with her entire upper body. She felt him take a sharp breath in, and felt the hold on her thigh tighten.

His forefinger played with the bottom hem of her shorts, rubbing back and forth against the boundary between fabric and skin. The other hand that had been on her waist was now making its way up her torso, sending a sensation that caused her to arch her back, bringing her arms up and behind her head, placing one hand on his neck and the other ran through his hair. His right hand was now on her ribcage, and moving up. Thumb was brushing the underside of her breast, only cotton fabric between hand and chest. She could feel his fingers tracing the underwire of her bra.

Suddenly she felt electric.

Sasha turned around and grabbed his wrists.

"What the—?" he began to object, outraged that she had stopped.

"Shut up," she snapped, not angrily, but just to get him to not interject, "come with me."

Dragging him off once again, she walked out of the room into what seemed to be a study. The music still coursed through them, the bookcase on the adjacent wall seemed to throb with the beat. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pushed him into the armchair. He opened his mouth as if to speak again, but she quickly silenced him by leaning forward and placing her lips on his.

"Mmm," he hummed into the fierce kiss, proceeding to grab her waist and pull her on top of him. Her legs straddled his waist as her arms wrapped around his neck, one arm bent to allow her hand to run through his hair. Goosebumps spread across her skin as his hands wandered from her waist to her ass, groping her in a firm, but not harsh manner.

Lips parted, and he thrust his tongue into her mouth, tilting his head for ease of access and to press their mouths closer together. They intensified, hands wandered, but no matter how much they seemed to want one another, they dared not go farther.

Sasha kept a bit of dignity that night.

Somehow, she made her way home, back into the house. She slept off a horrible hangover, and no one found out. However, the next afternoon as she showered, she couldn't help but remember the attractive boy with the undercut. That nameless boy would haunt her.