I've never thought of acknowledging any parent as cool, but the Swanson-Beale's broke any set standards of mine. No one knew they were so out of their minds. How can a couple let the house to their kids, and give them permission to throw a party in it?! It's admirable really. The trust between them is pretty enviable, almost ideal. I mean, not in a million years, I'd let my kids have a party of this magnitude at my house. Ever. Less knowing their dark side!

Those adults are irrevocably crazy. Obviously, they must have settled some conditions during a negotiation, there's no doubt about it. And if there was a breach to the agreement, things would probably get uncomfortable for the children. There is always a catch behind Swanson-Beale's negotiations.

On our way back to the house, Jesse wouldn't shut his mouth about how awesome it is to have a party at his house. I really lost count at how many times I rolled my eyes at his Aubrey-related-remarks, the booze and what not. He's so blindly excited, that if it wasn't because I've known him for years, I would have thought this is the first party he has ever attended. As to be expected, Benji is also very excited too, since Emily is there. He has been crushing on her since God knows when; she makes him a pile of mush by just breathing. There are countless embarrassing moments I've witnessed where Benji and Em are just trying to establish a conversation. They are just so awkward around each other, it's incomprehensible. Benji stutters, mumbles and sweats to death, and Emily just starts saying inappropriate stuff about her parents' intimacy, flailing her hands threatening to hit someone or break something. If it wasn't for moments like this, high school would be as bad as people describe it. So far, having these weirdos around, makes it all different from whatever I imagined it would be.

It's better.

Submerged in all of these thoughts, I still watch Jesse and Benji laughing their lungs out at whatever possible scenario they might have come up with, and betting to recreate it at the party themselves. Jesse wants to dance with Aubrey and I, bindingly, snort at his comment, earning the reflection of a middle finger by the rearview mirror.

"But seriously, dude." Jesse tells Benji. "I wonder what kind of story Chloe told our parents to let her have this kind of party."

"She's pretty shrewd." Benji says with a nod, as both of them glance at the house, and I just follow their action.

The house it's crowded, well, apparently everywhere. The faint music can be heard, even with the windows all rolled up; today the neighbors will call the police for sure.

Jesse parks in whatever available space he can find. I hear him say something under his breath, but I am not paying much attention to either of them. Something has snatched my attention away from reality. A text message from Chloe that is. My eyes go wide, warmth crawling over my skin unrestrictedly. And I have no other choice but to stare at the picture she has sent me. A fucking dirty picture?! I inhale deeply realizing I've been holding my breathing function. She's wearing Lilac lingerie, and there's a dark spot, on her panties.

Thinking of you doesn't make it easy for me, Beca.

Read the comment that followed the picture. Well, fuck me! I pull the jacket by the neck, needing to get out of it. I am suffocating. I finish up by unzipping my jacket immediately. Fuck, I am burning. My lower limbs don't respond, maintaining me right on spot beside the car as Jesse and Benji are just a few feet ahead of me, heading towards the house. Not even my brain is functioning properly to lock my phone and hide this... this… message I just received! Doesn't Chloe know high school teenagers are just human bodies hoarded with hormones? Hormones heightening every sense, waiting to be displayed full force? Fuck… that she knows perfectly. She knows how to hunt vulnerable prey. Chloe knows exactly how to approach, how to commit and how to close a deal. She's devoted to obtaining whatever she seeks, to achieve her detailed goals.

"Yo' nerd!" Jesse's insufferable voice brings me back. Finally, my eyes diverge from my phone, the phone that I almost drop but it's caught mid-air. "Party's over here." He smiles wide, waving his hand, gesturing to come with them, and embrace what awaits inside Swanson-Beale's walls.

I nod once, slipping my phone on the back of my jeans, taking in a deep breath before making my way into the house along with Benji and Jesse. My body is burning at the impregnated image of Chloe's dirty picture. It's a feeling that remains, and I am pretty sure it will always resurface every time I look at it. I'm pretty sure it will never get old, but then again, how many times has she done this before? How many dirty pictures has she ever made? I am not judging at all, I just wonder… Not because she has a reputation, no. I wonder because she's Chloe, and Chloe is all confident about being sexy. Chloe knows when someone thinks she's sexy. The fuck she is, there's no way it could be denied.

Once the front door opens, humid warmth washes over our faces. The music is sensual, the bass is low and dropping, then it rises back up again, following The Weeknd voice, the song Acquainted. I really don't know what kind of hypnotizing beliefs he has, I just acknowledge that each and every one of his songs are potentially sensual enough to mesmerize listeners. People are just dancing to its rhythm, moving their flushed bodies, molding around each other even when you thought it was impossible they could be any closer. People are holding red cups all around, standing, others by the walls certainly not talking. Like really, who would even establish a conversation during a The Weeknd song? I let my eyes wander, roam around the living room, looking for something specific. Yet, she's nowhere to be found. The living room's sliding door is open, and the three of us slip right through it in some sort of a trance as the music beats changes to something more energetic. I do recognize the beats. These beats are one of Chloe's lady Jams.

Venus by Lady Gaga.

"Holy shit…" I hear Jesse curse beside me. I glance back at him and then follow where his eyes aim. My sight is fixated on three girls dancing, and to say sensual is an understatement.

I hear a sharp inhale, and I seriously suspect it came out of me because Jesse slipped away. He just decides to walk over the crowd in front of the pool, where Chloe, Aubrey and Stacie dance to the rhythm of the song. I also see Jessica and Ashley twirling around, enjoying the environment. Who am I kidding really? I just want to watch Chloe.

The swaying of her hips, the smile that takes over her face, her eyes closed as her left hand goes up her neck and slips into her fiery locks that fall unashamedly over her shoulders. Nothing matters right now anymore, apart from the way a smirk takes form on Chloe's face. She knows I am here. She knows I am staring at her and only her. Right here, is when I realized nothing is sexier than Chloe Beale.

I see how she says something over Stacie's ear, then she pulls back to lay her eyes on me. Fuck, I am solely bewitched at the moment, mesmerized by Chloe. Her right hand descends down her side, until it finds her thigh and then it goes back up, pulling up a bit the skirt she's wearing, the one that is a bit too short to be wearing to be honest. When I feel the taste of blood in my mouth, I finally realized I have to set free my lower lip. The blood is rushing all over my body, hotness bathing me inch by inch, as I process how Chloe's attempts of seduction always have an effect on me. She might as well be washing the dishes and she'll still have an effect on me. Fuck, I am such a teen.

"Shawshank!" Amy's hollering is like a cold shower.

"Dude!" I squeak stupidly, covering the ear she almost destroyed. "Do you plan to destroy my future as a music producer?! Geez!"

She pushes a red cup into my hand, completely ignoring my snarky remark as she gulps from her drink. "Take this, DJ." She smiles widely at me and I stupidly stare at the red cup I'm holding.

"Amy," I sniff the contents of the drink and I swear I feel my nose hairs burn. "What's in this?" I glanced back at her, and she just shrugs presumptuously.

"It's Australian punch. Embrace it." She says cheerful, raising her red cup to the air. "Best party of the year!" She hollers and people reciprocate with a cheer, in appreciation to her enthusiasm. I watch how she merges with the crowd, sinking into a dance orgy, surrounded by the School's football team. I wonder if those are all the boyfriends she always talks about.

I feel someone pulling my arm. "What the fuc-" Stacie's dragging me toward the dance floor. "Stacie, what?!" I squeal, fighting her grip but it's impossible to escape.

"Come on, shorty!" She says excited. "This is our jam!" Stacie shrieks at Rihanna ft. Calvin Harris song.

"What jam?! What are you talking about? What do you mean ours?!" All the questions come out instantly, more like a vomit as I hold onto the cup, trying not to spill the poison it holds over my clothes. "You mean yours, right?" My efforts at interrogation are a complete failure. It doesn't buy me time at all because I've lost Stacie to the music, to the dancing. She moves her body in perfect synchrony, perks of a ballet and hip-hop dancer, as I stare at her astounded. Still petrified, I watch as all the people familiarized with the electronic music, clutching to it, and just living the moment. I'm about to take a step when I feel a body pressed to my back. Her scent is unmistakable.

"Beca." Her voice is soft, sensual and hot as she speaks into my ear.

I press my lips together, trying not to let out a shaky breath. "Chloe." It comes out sort of strangled.

"Glad you made it." I feel her hand over my left hip, and I glance down at the touch, immobile, standing in the same spot Stacie left me. My body starts swaying to the music because Chloe is making me. I feel her smile behind my ear; I swear she'll be the death of me. "I've got something for you…" She says, and I know she is grinning deviously at me.

I swallow hard, clutching the cup with too much force until I spill the contents over me, and I hear Chloe giggle behind me.

"Fuck." I mutter staring at the mess I've made. I feel Chloe's hand slip into one of my back pockets, and I tense up at the action.

"Guess what I am not wearing?" She says and parts away from me. Chloe is no longer pressed against me. I glance back to find no one behind me, just a sea of moving bodies as people continue their dancing. I look around, searching for fiery, red hair, but that cute hair of hers is nowhere to be found at the moment. No blue orbs, no sexy legs, no soft, crimson cascade of hair falling down to her shoulders.

"What is going on?" I mumble as I slide my free hand into the back pockets, to feel the familiar hardness of my phone and a cloth. Wait, what? I pull the cloth from my back pocket, feeling the soothing texture of it. It sure feels like satin or silk. Yeah, definitely silk. When I bring it to sight, my eyes widen. I am positive my jaw is hanging, and that my cheeks are rosy as they could ever be. I hold onto it, not registering anything around me, not realizing what the fuck is going on right now. There's no other choice, but to hide the piece of undergarment immediately. The same fucking Lilac panties I saw in the picture. "S-she's not wearing-" I swipe the sweat drops that already formed in my temples with the back of my unoccupied hand. "Jesus Christ, Chlo..." I whisper, fumbling the panties back into my back pocket, heading back into the house.

My brain is fogged up, so I really have no idea where I'm going or where to go. A part of me tells me to find the whereabouts of Chloe immediately, yet my other rational and logistical part tells me to cool off. But I just keep moving around, depositing the empty cup over the nearest table, knowing exactly what I seek or want. First person I bump into is Jesse, who is surprisingly talking to Aubrey, and she's laughing at whatever shit he's saying.

Without further ado, I tear the drink off his hand and drink it all in one single gulp. "Fuck!" I croak and cough, covering my mouth with my forearm.

Jesse eyes me weirdly. "Australian punch?" He says over the music apologetically. "Amy's." He states.

"Are you okay, Beca?" Aubrey asks confused, kind of concerned, but I just shove the empty cup to Jesse's chest and keep on moving along the people in the living room. "Rude." I heard her say, yet I don't care what she thinks.

I keep searching for Chloe, kind of desperate now. Things are turning foggy and I'm sexually frustrated. I want to be with her badly, and I just can't find her. I pull out my phone and call her, but the call goes straight to voicemail. "Shit." I growl, and place the phone back into my jeans, turning around on my feet to find fucking nothing. I decide to go upstairs but the Swanson-Beale's put some kind of tangled rope at the base, keeping the guests from going upstairs. Please, stay downstairs says the chart over the mess of tied ropes around railings of the stairs. Plus, Nathan was guarding the stairs.

"You shall not pass!" He exclaims, his chest puffed out, one fist resting at his hips, the other holding out a broomstick. How the heck did he manage to get a football-player body in such a short time?! He is just 16! Beale's genes for sure.

I roll my eyes at his and wave my hand awkwardly as I walk away. "Yeah, yeah. I'm Balrog." I mutter.

"Yeah, but like the Lego edition or something." He laughs hysterically at his own comment.

"Fuck you!" I throw a finger at Nathan, and he continues to laugh, sitting back on his beach chair, returning his attention towards the 3DS.

The alcohol of whatever Fat Amy prepared it's kicking in, I can tell. My eyelids feel heavier, and I am sweating like a pig; I always do when I'm tipsy. I need fresh air. So, I head towards the front door, and when I'm about to open it, to go outside for meditation purposes, I feel someone yank me away. A shameful yelp comes out of my mouth as I'm being pulled into the coat's room that's right beside the front door. "What the f-Dude!" I am sure I look like a deer in headlights. The dim light of the closet, finally helps me see the face of the kidnaper, even though I already knew who it was. It's undeniable.

We're close together, limited by the tight area this space holds. I can feel her breath, a ghost of it over my lips, cerulean eyes fixed on my deep blues, both of us maintaining our stance. I can hear what's going on inside the house. I hear the faint music finding its way into the closet, failing to get through the door and walls. She inhales deeply, biting her lip, unsure of what to do or say, just like I am.

"Where were you?" I reproach stupidly. I have her here, all for myself, away from humanity, and I just act on impulses. Impeccable, Beca. She smiles widely, finally moving. She places her arms over my shoulders, around my neck, keeping me in place.

"Around." She replies innocently, but the innocence is lost instantly. The mischievous eyes I missed are back, her solemn features… the air changes, our intentions change too. "You've made me wait." She says serious, eyes leveling, her hands pulling off my jacket, and I help her get it off. "And unlike mother, I am very impatient." She remarks, eyes roaming my body and I am bound to believe every uttered word, only because I choose to do so. Because I can.

"Kathleen is great." And this is how we all know I am nervous as fuck. Whatever games we were playing, I ruined it. Who praises a mother during a moment like this? I have a pantyless person before me, for fuck's sake! I loathe myself entirely.

Chloe snorts, her act falls completely as her forehead rests on my chin. She laughs softly, hands resting on my shoulders. I painfuly laugh with her because I acknowledge how stupid my comments sound to any ear, to any rational mind. With one hand I cup her face and lift it back up, she's still smiling, but the smile fades bit by bit, as I shorten the distance between us. She gives me a tentative peck, staying close, hovering my lips with hers, her breath distorting everything. I kiss her, feeling how her arms go back around my neck as mine snake around her waist. She changes the angle with a chuckle.

I pull away, just centimeters away. "What now?" I question with hesitation, looking at her, waiting for a response… in need of some words that might give justice to the action that evaporated my confidence away.

"Just listen." She beams at me, hand resting on my cheek as I look up to the ceiling, concentrating, just to hear whatever she wants me to hear. It's muffled, the voices of people, the music, the hustle… the music. That is it. All my money is on Stacie and her playlist. The song playing must be her idea. I can hear the vague rhythm of the song PILLOWTALK.

My concentration is gone when Chloe shifts closer to me, her cheek resting over mine, lips grazing my ear as she whispers a few lines of the song to me. Let me fucking say, nothing is hotter or as sensual as this, as her. My body reacts to hushed words, making me flex my fingers at her hips, holding dearly to the source of my instability. I turn my face towards her, taking in her sweet scent, leaving a lingering kiss on her cheek, that is until she turns back to me, and I kiss her again.

Things were going slow, paced, controlled, until she flushed her body to mine, her fingers snaked in my hair. Our movements were suddenly stopped by a wall filled with hanging coats, Chloe's back pressed against it, yet that doesn't stop her. Her right leg hitches on my hip, as I adjust between her legs. Chloe breaks our kiss, her breathing heavy and shallow.

"I have something of yours." I say breathlessly, swallowing the thick thump in my throat, completely aroused. My left hand moves over the smooth skin of the leg binding us together, my eyes following its trail, until I reach the back of my pants to retrieve her undergarment. I hear Chloe groans when the piece of lingerie comes to sight. "I'd like to put it back on." I tell her, holding her sight.

"No one's stopping you." She says softly, resting her hands once again on my shoulders. She unhooks her leg from me, but keeps it accessible for me to dress her intimacy. I nod once, starting to slide the piece up her leg. Reaching midleg, she grabs my face with one hand, bringing my sight up. "Look at me." She bites her lips as I keep on pulling up her panties, caressing her skin simultaneously. She exhales shakily, and kisses me fervently. "I need you, Beca." She murmurs against my lips, making me smile. I pull away, nodding at her other leg, making Chloe Beale follow my command with a simple gesture. She shifts her weight into the other leg, raising the left one. My hand touches her skin lascivious and slow, trying to contain myself and not succumb in this seductive game of ours. As much as I want her, as much as I need to feel her, we need to control ourselves. The house is full with people, family and friends are nearby, and Kathleen will very much kill us if we bless the room and their coats with our sexual encounter.

Chloe lets her head fall, lips grazing my neck as I start my task again. Apparently, Beale can't control herself when I torture her leisurely anyway I want it.

"Dammit." She exhales loudly, trying to control rapid, shallow breaths as I pull them up entirely, fixing it under her skirt, putting it back in place. She fists her hands on my shirt, as I rest my hands on her hips.

"Two can play this game, Beale." I say softly into her hair, feeling her grip tightening on my shirt.

"I'm going to kill you." She whispers into my neck.