"Tigger, I really don't think I should have anymore of that," Haley said, pointing overdramatically at the bottle of vodka in Brooke's hands as the two of them stumbled through the crowd to find the couch they were sitting at before.
"Oh, come on, Tutor Girl," Brooke sighed, flopping down on the couch with a groan at her roommate's up tight attitude. "It's girl's night out without Peyton! Don't you think that's enough reason to celebrate in itself?"
"Peyton," Haley said, the name slurring. She pretended to spit in disgust at the name, causing Brooke to fall into drunken giggles. "That girl has got something up her ass." She tried, unsuccessfully to plop down on the couch beside the brunette, but only managed to land on her floor. Brooke was too busy pouring some more vodka in her drink to notice.
"Tell me about it," Brooke agreed, absently grabbing the cup in Haley's hand while she was struggling to get back on the couch. She poured some vodka in the blonde's cup as well before handing it back to her once she was sitting in place. Haley didn't seem to notice. "I love the girl on most days, but that whole Ellie thing is really getting on my last nerve."
"Boo," Haley mumbled, bringing her cup to lips and taking a sip. "Let's not talk about blonde bitches." She smiled fakely at the two Barbies that had happened to walk by at that exact moment, assuming she had been talking about them.
"I guess that leaves out LucASS, too," Brooke threw out, not really sure why she was mad at Lucas right now. She was sure there was a reason though; he was always doing something wrong. Haley laughed into her cup, causing it to spill all over her brand new shirt. Brooke absently handed her a napkin to clean up. "We'll throw Nathan in there, too. He's not blonde, but he is a bitch."
"And a slut," Haley added with a triumphant smile once she was satisfied with the state of her shirt. She held up her cup and Brooke knocked her's against it. "He bitches and moans about me going on tour with stupid ass Chris Keller, even though nothing happened, yet he goes to my sister's little wannabe Coyote Ugly bar and comes about an inch away from sleeping with her. He doesn't think I know about that, but I do!"
"Whore," Brooke decided, winking overdramatically at the Barbies that walked by them again, sending Haley into yet another fit of giggles.
"This is boring," Haley announced after she had calmed down. She placed her drink on the small table in front of them before leaning her head against Brooke's shoulder in defeat. Brooke leaned her head on top of Haley's simply because it was too much energy to keep it up. "We could have stayed home to sit on the couch and get drunk."
"Then let's dance!" Without waiting for an answer from the shorter girl, Brooke grabbed her friend's hand and pulled her towards the dance floor.
The both of them stumbled all the way there, nearly tripping over everyone's feet. When they finally got to the dance floor, they fell all over each other when they actually attempted to dance. A few guys tried to work their way in between them to dance, but even in their drunken, bitter states, they ignored them.
It didn't take long for their dancing to get people's attention. While most girls like to dance close to each other when they normally dance, dunk girls liked to dance even closer. The moment they started grinning against each other a huge crowd of horny guys had gathered around them.
"Hales," Brooke yelled over the music. It took a moment to get Haley's attention away from her dancing. "Let's go on the bar!" Her suggestion earned a bunch of cheers from all the spectators around them. It wasn't until then that either of them realized there were people watching.
"I can't dance on a bar!" Haley slurred with laughter. She could just picture herself making a huge fool out of herself by falling off the bar. "Do you remember my bachalorette party? The Unfortunate Stripper Pole Incident of 2004!"
"Sure you can," Brooke told her, taking to hold in the laughter as she remembered Haley flying off that stage in the strip club. She pulled Haley towards the bar despite her protests. "You just told me that your sister does it! It's in your blood!"
"That is true," Haley mused. "What the hell?! It's not like I'm gonna remember this in the morning!" Grinning like a kid in a candy store, Haley let Brooke help her up on the bar. The moment they started dancing and grinding against each other again, they owned every man, and even some women, in the place. Haley threw back her head and laughed as she felt Brooke's hands moving on her hips. It looks like Brooke had been right; they didn't need the boys or Peyton to have fun. All they needed was some alcohol.
------
"How was I supposed to know that dancing on the bar was against some kind of health violation?" Brooke defended herself. The two of them had been kicked out of the club only two minutes after they started dancing on the bar, being told they were lucky they didn't call the cops on them for drinking under age. They were currently stumbling drunk down the streets of Tree Hill, trying to find their way back to their apartment.
"That's okay, Tigger," Haley told her, wrapping her arm around Brooke's waist in an attempt to hold both of them up. "It was fun while it lasted." They walked a little bit further before they gave up and feel down, lying on someone's front lawn.
"Yeah, it was fun," Brooke said wistfully, amazed by the stars above her. "Too bad we probably won't remember any of this in the morning." That was the one thing she hated about getting drunk. It was a blast at the time, but the only thing she had as a reminder of the night before was a pounding headache.
"We'll have to write it down when we get back to the apartment," Haley suggested, giggling at the feeling of the grass between her fingers. "If we ever find the apartment, that is."
"Let's ask whoever lives here," Brooke thought out load, pointing to the house behind them. Haley struggled to turn around on her stomach so she could see the house. She was surprised when she saw the front door open and someone step out. She blinked a few times, trying to figure which blur was the real one.
"I know him," Haley spoke, pointing an accusing finger at the man walking towards them, the anger apparent to her even in her drunken state. "He does not look happy."
"But it's a happy night!" Brooke exclaimed, rolling over to see who owned the lawn they had decided to inhabit. Her eyes widen when she saw three versions of the man walking their way. She let out a yelp when he started yelling at them.
"Miss Davis and Miss. James," he spoke sternly, coming to a halt right in front of them. They both quickly scrambled to sit up so they could see him. Haley thought about correcting his mistake, but thought better of it when she saw the look he was giving them.
"Hey, Whitey," Brooke greeted with a dimply smile and wave; not being able to comprehended how much trouble they could get it. Haley covered her mouth with her hand in a failed attempt to stop her giggles. They looked back up at the angry old man and fell against each other in fits of laughter, which only made Whitey even more angry.
"Get your asses up," he ordered them, not knowing what exactly he was supposed to do. It wasn't everyday that he woke up to find two drunken girls from the high school he coached at lying on his front lawn at 2 in the morning. "And go home."
"We tried," Haley explained, leaning on Brooke as they struggled to stand up, gasping when she saw how dirty her new shirt was now.
"But we seem to be having a little trouble finding it," Brooke finished; leaning over and helping the blonde brush off her shirt. She chuckled when she actually grabbed Haley boob. "Opps, just groped you a little bit, Hales."
"That's cool," Haley assured her with a serene smile on her face, clearing not knowing what the hell was going on. "That's the most action I've had in about 6 months."
"Okay," Whitey interrupted, having heard way too much from the girls that he ever wanted to hear. He waved his hands to get them to stop, then physically grabbed Brooke's arms away from Haley when they ignored him. "You two fools can't find your apartment?"
"I think it's that way," Brooke said, randomly pointing in any direction she felt like. Whitey rolled his eyes and grabbed them both by the arm, dragging them in the direction of his car. He ripped open the door and shoved them into the back.
"Stay here," he ordered them, before slamming the door shut and stomping back towards his house to get his keys and some shoes.
By the time he pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, both girls were leaned against each other, fast asleep.