Chapter Five: A Night to Remember

                                        

                                                  
I stared at myself in the mirror, unsatisfied with how I looked. The black skinny jeans with rips in the knees were okay, but the shirt I chose made me feel out of place; the quarter sleeve button up was not a good idea. I walked to the wardrobe and fished out a light blue shirt with a robot on it; underneath the robot it read: I love you. Whatever. I ran my fingers through my hair a few more times then I slid on my decorative bracelets. The party would be fine. Mum already agreed to letting me go out for the night since dad and her were having dinner with Adrian and some friends. Thank God.
                              
	I went out the door with my cell in my pocket and money to pay for the taxi. I stood out on the pavement while the thoughts raced through my mind. What if when I go, Phil ends up laughing at me? What if it's just a set up? Maybe I shouldn't go. Maybe I should pretend to be sick.
                              
	Right as I thought about turning to go back inside, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see that Phil had texted me. It read:
                              
	>Just got to the party. Are you still coming?
                              
	I pushed a frustrated hand through my hair while biting my lower lip, hard. I let my fingers type, shakily.
                              
	>Yeah. I am just leaving my house. See you there. 
                              
	As if the taxi knew my response, it stopped at the pavement and I climbed inside.
                              
	--
                              
	Stepping out of the taxi, I saw the large house had many cars parked outside and people crammed inside. I wanted to turn around and climb back into the car, but I forced myself to go inside, pushing my way through grumping-and-grinding party-goers. I scrunched my nose as I heard the most annoying band on the planet playing inside: Blood on the Dance Floor. Oh, well.
                              
	While making my way to finding Phil, a cup was unanticipatedly pushed into my hand. I sniffed at it. Definitely beer. I took a hesitant sip at it to discover that someone had mixed it with some kind of soda. I would much rather drink something like Ribena, but this would work for now.
                              
	As I took a turn into the living room, I saw a couple on the couch locking tongues with each other and a hand was placed on my shoulder. I turned around with a jump, spilling my drink all over the front of my shirt. Great job, I told myself bitterly. The hand, of course, belonged to Phil. 
                              
	He immediately apologized, but I could barely hear it over the music. I was too busy taking in his features in anyways. I could not help myself. I felt like a stupid kid staring up at some celebrity they had just met for the first time. I swallowed heavily as I took in those black skinny jeans that hung a little low to reveal a black studded belt, a dark blue elastic band that had to belong to boxers, and his shirt, black, that had a My Chemical Romance logo on it with some crazy design. His eyes were rimmed with black, but in a beautiful way to make those blue eyes pop. In his lower left lip was a piercing; a black ring. Not to mention black earrings to match.
                              
	"Dan?" Phil said to me, holding up a black jacket.
                              
	I shook my head a little, shouting at him. "I don't need a jacket! Thank you, though!"
                              
	He nodded at me, pulling at my arm gently. "Come with me!"
                              
	Leading me up the stairs, he handed me a shirt from his backpack, one of his black shirts. I took it  hesitantly. "You don't mind?"
                              
	"No," Phil confirmed with a soft smile.
                              
	Since we both were of the same sex I didn't mind changing so I slid off the soaking wet shirt and replaced it with the cologne drenched shirt that belonged to Phil. It was a little big on me. It was black with white broken hearts on the front. I thanked him as we went downstairs, into the kitchen, and out the sliding glass door.