Daisy in a Meadow

12 - Drunk

Teens littered the mansion, music could be heard blasting down the street, and red solo cups were in almost everybody's hands.

Everyone around me seemed to be having lots of fun, however this was so not my scene. The last party I'd been to was when I was 12 years old, and it was for a random classmate's birthday—don't get too excited, it was only because their mom had forced them to invite everyone in the class.

I averted my eyes from a couple that was doing a lot more than just kissing. With a sigh, I began to barge through the sea of teenagers.

"Daisy, there you are," Malcolm yelled over the noise, a wide smile on his face. "I was wondering where you went!"

His blond hair was messed up, and if I wasn't mistaken, he had a lipstick mark on his cheek.

"Yeah, I must've got lost in the crowd," I gestured towards the mass of drunk teens. "There's no way all of these kids go to Oakland High."

"Oh, they don't," Malcolm gave me a devilish grin. "A simple post on my Snapchat story was enough to get every teen in town here."

"Right," I said, unsurprised. "Anyways, I think I'm gonna head out."

"What? No, the party's barely even started!"

A dainty brunette, who I hadn't even noticed was behind Malcolm, began to tug on his arm.

"Baby, come back," she murmured, kissing his cheek.

"Duty calls," Malcolm gave me a boyish grin. "Just, wait here—don't move!"

He allowed the brunette to drag him along to God-knows-where. I softly laughed, not exactly surprised. After all, Malcolm was a good-looking dude with a flirtatious personality. He was such a player, but even though I loved him, I certainly wasn't going to wait while he had a quickie with a random girl at a party.

I was only able to make it one step away when Andre suddenly swerved in my vision.

"Daisy, I hate to say this, but you've gotta help me," he stressed.

"Me?" I quirked a brow.

"Yes, you—I've gotta do damage control. If my parents come back home and see this mess—"

"They're gonna murder you, aren't they."

"Forget murder, they're gonna ship my ass back to Africa!" Andre flailed his arms.

"Oh, would the two of you relax," Malcolm appeared out of thin air, causing me to jump.

"That was fast," I raised my eyebrows, surveying his appearance. His white t-shirt was on backwards, and his blond hair looked fluffier than usual.

Malcolm only cast me a coy grin before swinging his arms around the two of us and wheeling us towards the kitchen.

He began to pour a drink in two identical cups before passing one to me, and one to Andre.

"Here."

"Absolutely not," Andre crossed his arms. "Someone's gotta watch over my baby."

"Wow," Malcolm said. "You'd do that for me?"

"What? I don't give a damn about you! I was talking about the house."

I laughed at Malcolm's offended face. Nonetheless, he offered me a cup. "You want?"

I hesitantly weighed the options in my head. I could decline the drink, go home, and spend the rest of the night alone in bed, studying or reading or something of the sort. Or, I could let loose for just one night.