The strobe lights flickered over flashes of arms and hips, bleaching them with unnatural colors. A wonderfully remixed version of Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Suck My Kiss was bursting out of cleverly hidden speakers, filling the whole house with thumping beats, fueling every teen present with the urge to dance.
Spencer Carlin was bored out of her mind, but seeing as how this was supposed to be the final and biggest party before they entered the new school year as seniors, it was quite mandatory as the school’s cheerleader that she made an appearance. She took a swig of her cranberry and vodka, sitting on top of one of the large speakers masquerading as a mixing table. As much as she loved the song, she was really getting bored with the party. How many absolutely similar parties has she attended over the summer break, each promising to be THE party of the summer. A girl would get jaded with all the empty promises.
Spencer spotted the blonde head of her best friend making its way towards her. She downed the rest of her drink, neatly tossing it into a trash can beside her before hopping off the speaker.
“Sara! You said that this would be the best party of the summer and so far, it’s not proving itself,” Spencer whined.
“Spence, darling, you need to relax!” Sara Bellamy slurred, clearly drunk. “School starts tomorrow, and you know what that means. Non-stop studying for a couple of months! This is the last chance we have to be young and free!”
Spencer rolled her eyes. “It’s not like tonight is our last night on earth, Sare.”
“It might as well be. Senior year is tough, Spence. And after that it’s off to college and jobs and mortgages and marriage and babies!” Sara’s eyes widened with horror and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at Sara’s ever-dramatic slippery slope.
“Okay, okay. But if the party continues to be this lame, I’m leaving in an hour,” Spencer said, looking around. Truth to be told, the party was not lame at all. The whole house has been outfitted to resemble a club not unlike those invitation-only ones in Hollywood, and Jessica Sawyer, the person responsible for the party and fellow cheerleader, had even gone all-out by hiring professional bartenders and a DJ to keep the party raving.
“Your expectations are too high, Spencer Carlin. That’s why you don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend,” Sara added as an afterthought, nodding wisely. Well, as wise as a girl can be on her seventh drink. “Now come on, let’s dance!