CHAPTER 4 The mandatory party
1076 Words
By the time I finished with my skincare, Stassie had FaceTimed me twice practically bouncing on her bed.
“If you're not turning heads, you are doing it wrong,” she said, pointing at me with mock seriousness.
So I chose the one that would make every head turn – the kind of outfit that dared people to look twice.
The white off- shoulder crop top clung just right, showing enough skin to make me second-guess every step towards the mirror. The low-rise shorts left my stomach bare, my legs looking endless, under the black knee-high boots. Trouble — that's what I exactly felt like.
If Asher feels like I'm backing out of this party he's out of his mind.
On arrival, the floor rattled so loud through the floor board the moment I stepped in. The air reeked of spilled beer, perfume and something burning on the grill out back.
His 2022 Audi Q5 was parked out front, empty.
Barely two seconds later, my phone buzzed.
Asher: Are you on your way? Or you're gonna bail out like the loner you are. Lol
I smirked and typed back.
Me: Not a chance. Open the door.
The door swung open before I could pocket my phone, and there he was — drink in one hand, the other shoved in his pocket, dark jeans and a black T-shirt clinging in all the right places, hair still deliciously messy. His eyes swept over me, slow, and unashamed.
“You look—” his voice dropped lower, his mouth tugging into a smirk. “Like you're trying to ruin me tonight.”
“Guess you shouldn't be surprised. You are the one who said to dress like I wasn't afraid.”
Inside, the party was alive — neon lights flashing against the wall, bodies moving everywhere, music pulsing in my chest.
And just like that, every pair of eyes landed on me.
Whispers rippled through the room.
Great! Exactly what I wanted — attention.
Asher stayed close, his hand brushing my waist, as he guided me further inside. The touch was light, casual — but not casual enough to stop my pulse from thudding.
“Meet my friends,” he said, steering me towards a group clustered near the kitchen.
Melissa turned first — all confidence, and curves, her black tiny skirt paired with a glittery crop top that made it clear she didn't mind attention. Her pin-straight black hair swung as she grinned wide.
“So you're the new roommate?” she said, staring at me with a teasing smile, not unkind— just curious.
“Yeah.”
“Cute. I pictured you… taller.”
I blinked, forcing a polite smile even as talking to her got on my nerves.
Who does she think she's talking to?
Before the silence could turn suffocating, another girl popped up beside her with a bright smile.
“Hi! I'm Sylvie ," she said offering me a quick hug like we'd known eachother
A blonde, dimpled, practically glowing — the kind of girl whose laugh sounded like it belonged at every party. Her outfit was effortlessly cool: high-waisted leather shorts, paired with a sparkly silver top tucked in, her hair loose and shining under the light, and chunky white sneakers to ground the look.
“Don't mind Melissa.” She added with a little grin, jerking her thumb towards her friend. “She likes to test new people.”
“And…this is Justin,” Asher said with a smirk. “Resident flirt. Thinks he can get every girl in school.”
Justin straightened from where he was leaning. Tall, with messy brown hair that probably took zero effort to look that good, sleeves of his t-shirt rolled just enough to show his lean tan arms. He smelled faintly of cigarettes, smile was lazy,and confident — the kind of smile that said he had gotten away with too much, and liked it.
“You smoke?” He asked, flickering the lighter open with a sharp click.
“Nope,” I said simply.
“I figured,” he smirked. “you look too good-girl for that.”
Asher's head turned towards him, jaw tight, and Justin's smile widened like he'd just hit a nerve.
“Relax, man. Just saying.”
I crossed my arms, amused at how fast Asher went from calm to irritated.
“Do you two always have this fun at parties?”
“Only when he's trying too hard.” Asher muttered, placing his hand on my waist.
“Come on princess. Drinks are this way.”
Before I could answer, he was already steering me towards the bar.
An hour later, after dancing and dodging too many looks, I headed toward the bathroom for a moment of air.
The door had barely clicked shut before it opened again.
Asher.
My breathe caught.
He didn't say anything first, just stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the music outside muffled to a dull thump.
“You never told me your name is lala.” he said finally, voice low, almost accusing.
I froze against the counter. “It's Larissa actually,” I swallowed hard, hoping my voice wouldn't shake.
“My mum calls me Lala, so I just… went with it.”
He moved closer, close enough that I could feel his breathe on my neck.
“And you thought not telling me was smart?”
His tone wasn't angry — it was something worse. Darker.
My heart racing as he braced one hand on the counter behind me, caging me in without touching me.
“Asher.” I breathed, but it sounded more like a plea.
He leaned down, lips almost brushing my ear. “You drive me insane, you know that?”
The air turned heavy, the bathroom suddenly too close.
His other hand brushing my hip — light, almost teasing — and my body betrayed me, arching down towards him before my brain caught up.
A sharp knock on the door snapped everything back.
“Asher! People are waiting!” someone shouted from outside.
We both exhaled at the same time, breaking apart like the spell had shattered.
He stepped back first, jaw clenched, but his eyes stayed on me for a bit too long.
We walked out, stepping into the noise nothing had happened — but every nerve in my body still buzzed, and his eyes on me felt like a promise I wasn't ready for.
- Writer
