Sarina (Chapter 7)

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"Grace this is someone's house, this is not a good idea", I said trying to drag her back to the car.

"Stop chickening out Sarina, this girl works at the club, she knows the guy who threw this party. I'm good friends with her."

"Oh yeah, when did you meet her", I asked with a questionable tone.

"Like a few days ago. You can know someone within that short amount of time, trust me."

"Everyone here looks much older than us. There has to be alcohol here, they're going to kick us out as soon as they find out we are only 18."

Grace grabbed me by the shoulders.

"First Sarina, just chill. Breathe, okay? Second, older guys mean fun guys, that's what I want. Third, just do what the Romans do, 'kay?"

She let go of me and rushed inside.

"Yeah, the Romans went really far didn't they", I said under my breath sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and let out a puff before following her inside. The door was just wide open, does this person not care about strangers just moseying inside their house? It was empty inside or at least I didn't see anyone. I could hear the music coming from outside, that's where everyone must be. Grace was nowhere in sight, she must be outside mingling with any guy she sees. I don't know anyone here, I'm not the type to start conversations or make myself known to a crowd of strangers. Instead, I decided to take a self-tour around the house. It's pretty big in here, actually a lot big. The ceilings are so tall, how do you clean all the way up there? Everything is spotless and organized, is this person a neat freak? This house doesn't even look used, it looks more like a vacation house. There seem to be no personal items here that say this is home.

"Enjoying the view?"

I jumped out of my skin at the sound of a male voice. I quickly turned around to see a familiar face.

"You."

"Yeah...and", he said.

He was leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, the other was still in a sling.

I also saw there was a variety of drinks behind him, alcohol I know nothing about since I don't drink. 

"How come I keep running into you?"

"Obviously you're a stalker."

"Am not!"

I folded my arms and turned away as I continued to speak.

"What are you doing here? You don't look like the party type."

"Since when do you know my type?"

"I just do. You're too serious, that's making you look mean and not cool to be around."

Sarina MaxineWhere stories live. Discover now