"I didn't know you were still friends with her." I stated rather absentmindedly as I kept my eyes on the pine trees speeding past me.
"Yeah, well sort of. We still talk and whatever. It's not like she completely fucked me over after I decided to leave her clique back in the 4th grade."
I scoffed with a roll of my eyes "The other guys did." I replied under my breath.
Stan released a small huff, basically agreeing. "They now eased up a bit, but they were assholes, Henrietta was different; she was always… really cool."
I paused for a moment, and wrinkled a single brow trying to filter out his subtext. I always knew he still somewhat talked to Henrietta but I never got any implication it was anything further than that until now. Acquaintances always summed it up for me but I suppose regarding to his peculiar undertone that he failed to hide with me, there has to be something more that I'm not aware of, and being his best friend that seriously blows. "Did you…did you ever have a thing for her? I mean after you and Wendy…" I asked, trailing off.
Stan looked at me as if I was some psycho. "Dude! No!" He shouts a little too defensively for my taste.
I stared at him skeptically. "Alright." I say calmly as I preserve the doubt laced in my tone. "You know you can tell me shit like this, but if you don't want to that's fine."
Stan snaps his head back to the road ahead of us and continues sharply. "No Kyle, I never did have a thing for her even after Wendy and I broke up for good back in the 9th grade. Henrietta was just always cool with me, and don't you start preaching about being honest with each other. You still never told me about that little incident you had last year, it doesn't matter much anyway, it's obvious what really happened." Stan finishes now clearly getting defensive about the question I asked.
I decided to drop the subject right there. The event that happened with me last year is the last thing I want to talk about. It happened so fast and unexpected and I seriously didn't want anyone to find out about it especially Stan, but that desire was unfortunately not granted to me. Also the thought of Stan acting all odd at the party with Henrietta due to a silly inquiry didn't sit well with me either.
We stayed silent for a few minutes before Stan broke the silence; regret now replaced his previously callous tone. "I'm sorry…" He softly began with a slight stutter. "I didn't mean to-"
"No, its fine dude, don't worry about it." I cut him off with a reassuring smile however it barely touched my eyes. I didn't want him to apologize like that. I know for fact he didn't mean anything spiteful by it. He just got a little carried away and that is a very common flaw that Stan has to handle with control on a daily basis. His awesome friendship is one feature that I will forever treasure but his temper is on a completely different field that I rarely get involved in, and he loathes it when I fall into his episodes like the beginnings of this one.
"Kyle, I didn't mean to bring it up like that, I'm really sorry dude, I'm serious." Stan honestly said, completely ignoring my earlier request. He did appear truly sorry and there was no way I could get angry with him with that genuine look of concern and regret plastered on his face.
"…Thanks, but its fine." I replied giving him one last assuring look before focusing my attention back to the fleeting trees.
We arrived at the party at around 11 p.m. or so. Thank Moses my mom was already asleep before I left so she didn't have to see the way out look I'm sporting tonight. When we pulled up on the edge of the street to park I can already hear the thumping of music, and it wasn't your average mainstream music you'd hear at a typical house party, it contained more of a deeper tone, heavy bass, with some screaming involved in the lyrics. There also appeared to be a strobe light blinking through the windows of the house.
"Great... I'm walking into a fucking rave…" I mumbled as I unbuckled my seat belt.
"Don't worry dude, it's going to be fine, just be yourself and you'll be alright." Stan assured me with one of his trademark smiles.
I didn't respond and simply got out the car. As we both sauntered down the walkway heading to the front door I kept feeling a little self-conscious about the jeans I had on. I swear that this article of denim material is intended for a girl, which should concern me a bit of how Stan managed to get these. I already know they don't belong to his sister; she's a bit more on the curvier side.
The thumping of the music got louder and the lyrics became more incomprehensible, the piercing screams of the artists didn't exactly help me with understanding of exactly what their screaming is about to begin with. It was jarring and not something I'd never see myself listening to. Stan invites himself in the front door and I follow behind as discreetly as my body allows, but I know I'll get noticed before I know it. He spotted Henrietta in the living room talking to a guy with an insanely large green Mohawk, it was evenly spiked vertically across his head, and the only way I can imagine that it stays as solid as it does is with industrial super glue. I have to keep myself from staring a little too intensely. But hell, the guy might like that type of attention.
Henrietta's intimidating indigos caught Stan from the corner of her eye. She looks very...creepy, but I could only imagine that's her main goal for tonight. Her eyes are traced with heavily smoked eyeliner along with blue sparkling shadow to compliment her orbs. She's wearing a jet-black dress decorated with lace to add on the whole Goth effect. She also appears to have on a black corset with red lacing crossing along the small of her back, the material is squeezing her waist which causes her breasts to have an instant lift and revealing cleavage.
She smiled, and I must admit it was hauntingly attractive. "You made it." She said, her deep velvety voice sends goosebumps up my spine.
"Yeah," Stan replies with a matching smile as he leans in and gives her a hug. "I brought Kyle along too." He said as he directed his attention towards me.
I gave a small smile in return while her eyes bore into mine. It looked as if she was examining me somehow and I couldn't help feeling slightly uncomfortable but the stare felt pleasurable in a sense. She walked towards me and her delicate hand rose towards my face. She ended up twirling one of my curly locks around her black finger painted index finger.
"I like your hair Broflovfski" She cooed, her husky voice filling my ears, a tingling sensation.
"Thanks" I can almost swear I choked out the word. I couldn't prevent the genuine smile that spread across my lips from her compliment tied in the embarrassment I just pulled myself into.
"I'm going to go get a drink, you want one." Stan asked above the blast of the music.
I shook my head denying his offer. "Na, I'm fine dude."
Stan disappeared into the kitchen and I took a seat on the couch in the living room where I was accompanied by a couple next to me eagerly making out and groping each other in every crevice of their bodies. They didn't even flitch when I somewhat invaded their bubble, or maybe their so into what going on between them to even bother noticing what's going on around them.
The music kept blaring, piercing my eardrums and I tried to find something about it that I may like, however no avail after minutes of searching. I looked towards the direction of the kitchen to see Stan with a red plastic cup of god knows what substance, talking to the Goth kid with curly hair, Robert...I think.
I lightly shake my head, scoffing at the sight of my best friend. I decided to divert my attention back to the people surrounding me and allowed my mind to wander. Why the hell am I here and why the hell did I ever agree to attend to begin with. It's like I got warped into a different dimension, a different life of sorts. Fuck it, I'm here now, might as well make the most of my night out without being within the clutches of my nagging mother, and being someone I'll never in my days see myself being.
"Hey."
A raspy voice was suddenly in my ear, it was male and I couldn't help to realize how soft it was. I shoot my head to the left and see someone I only saw from afar and never bothered talking, approaching, or acknowledging to. Stan's former friend
"Hi…" I said; stunned at how piercing his eyes were. Intimidating yet holding a sort of ease in them.
" Your Kyle...right?" He asked, his deep blues shaping into slight curiosity.
"Uh, y-yea "
He smirked at me and there was something hidden in that, something I couldn't read and I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out what it was, like he knew more of me then what I knew of myself.
"I'm Skyler." He introduced, with a flick of his head to fly away the heavy razor cut hair topped with red streaks, it covered the left side of his eye and partially his check.