Me & The 2 Bad Boys

Chapter 9

Essel’s Pov

Liz slowly articulates each word, her admiration evident. "Oh my God, you look amazing."

With Liz's help in makeup and fashion, I've managed to pull off a great look. I'm wearing a pair of short denim shorts over black tights paired with a simple white t-shirt. The outfit is laid-back, but with the addition of flawless makeup, it exudes an effortlessly chic vibe. If only I had the luxury of time to look this good every day. My hair cascades in waves down past my waist, and I can see why her eyes are wide with surprise.

"Pascal is going to be all over you!" she exclaims excitedly.

A wave of discomfort washes over me at her words.

"Ew, no," I respond, still captivated by my reflection and pleasantly surprised by my appearance. "But seriously, thanks for letting me borrow your clothes and makeup. You're the best."

"Am I detecting a hint of sarcasm?" she laughs, leaning in closer to the mirror as she continues to apply mascara.

No, really, you’re amazing,

“Come on, you’d do the same for me.” She gestures with her free hand as she talks; it’s a habit of hers to express herself this way. “By the way, I’ve put some clothes in the bag on the bed for you. Feel free to keep them; I have way too many.”

My hands drop from fixing my hair and hang by my sides as I take her in. She’s just so incredibly kind.

“See? You really are the best. Thank you.”

“Oh my gosh, we’re being way too sentimental today,” her familiar phrase makes me chuckle. After a brief pause, she continues, “Do you think Tristen will be there? He seemed pretty curious about where you were headed tonight.”

Her words remind me of the earlier incident in the parking lot. “Ugh, don’t remind me; I totally fell on my butt in front of him.” I shake my head, trying to push the memory away. “And honestly, I have no clue.”

“I bet you’re secretly hoping he shows up,” she says, raising an eyebrow at me as she puts the mascara back in her makeup collection—just seeing it makes me long for mine.

"Psht, no," I respond a bit too quickly, lacking any real conviction.

She flashes me a wide grin, "Oh, you do, don’t you?"

Resisting the temptation to smile back, I focus on my reflection and run my fingers through my hair, "Honestly, I couldn't care less."

"Ha." She laughs, turning away to grab her glass of water. "Keep telling yourself that, hun," she adds, raising her eyebrows as she takes a sip.

***

It takes Liz just fifteen minutes to fit her car into the only open parking space on the street. My heart races, not only from the nerves creeping in but also from the loud music blaring from the house next door. Judging by the opulence of what I assume is Pascal's place, I can't shake the feeling that everyone at my school is wealthy—except for me.

As Liz and I step out of the car, we don’t need to say a word; it’s clear we’re both thinking the same thing. Great, this isn’t my kind of scene.

We approach the inviting front door, which stands wide open. A few familiar faces from school linger on the porch that wraps around the house. Some are smoking what I naively assume are cigarettes, while others seem to be relishing the cool breeze, sipping from their cups.

“Oh my God,” Liz exclaims.

I really need to sit down with her one day to discuss why she feels compelled to say that phrase so often. But wait... what’s got her so worked up this time?

“What’s going on?” I ask, carefully stepping over an empty beer can as we near the porch.

“Look,” she whispers, glancing ahead.

I shift my gaze from her to the front entrance of Pascal's house, which was just clear moments ago. There he is—the life of the party himself. When our eyes meet, his captivating gaze pulls me in, and he greets me with a cheerful smile.

We're almost there, just stay calm.

"Hey, you made it!" Pascal calls out to me over the thumping music, his smile bright and revealing his perfect white teeth.

"Yep, here I am," I reply, regretting my choice of words immediately. I fight the impulse to cover my face and manage to smile back at him.

"I see you brought a friend?" Pascal glances at Liz.

"Uh, yeah. This is, um..." I momentarily blank on my friend's name, momentarily distracted by his charming smile. Oh right, it's Lizzy.

Great job staying composed, Essel.

"Lizzy, right?" He chuckles lightly, likely questioning why he invited someone who’s stumbling over their words to his party. "How have you been?"

Wait, am I missing something? I didn’t realize they knew each other.

"Good, you?" Liz responds, returning his friendly smile. I glance at her, trying to mask my bewilderment.

His smile wavers for a moment, but he quickly regains his composure. "I'm fine, thanks. I'm really happy you all came; the party is just getting started."

Many girls have shared negative opinions about Pascal, particularly those who dated him briefly and were unexpectedly left behind. Yet, it’s difficult to reconcile such harsh words with someone whose smile appears so sincere. Perhaps he simply wasn’t interested in them, and that’s perfectly acceptable. It’s better to end things rather than drag them out unnecessarily.

Just be cautious, Essel; he might still be as problematic as the rumors suggest.

Stepping through Pascal's front door feels like crossing into an entirely different world. I struggle to find the right words to capture the essence of my first party, but the energy is palpable. The spacious entrance is filled with people dancing wildly to the thumping music, completely lost in the moment. The sound of laughter echoes as girls sway together, their joy infectious.

"Come on!" Pascal shouts over the music, catching my attention as he gestures for Liz and me to follow, momentarily distracting me from a couple engrossed in each other.

Pascal is uncomfortably close behind me, guiding us with a gentle hand on my shoulder while his other arm nudges people aside to clear our path. For a fleeting moment, his hand brushes against the small of my back, which makes me uneasy, as he strides ahead of Liz and me, glancing back to ensure we're keeping up. Every few seconds, he throws me one of his charming smiles, which I find hard to resist.

Essel, just a reminder: this guy has a reputation for how he treats girls, so stay cautious.

As we move through the room, a few intrigued faces follow us. We step into a different space where the music still blares, but the crowd is much thinner, making it feel less suffocating.

“Danny boy!” Pascal shouts to a guy whose bloodshot eyes clearly indicate he’s quite high. If that’s not enough proof, the lit spliff he’s holding between his fingers certainly is. “I want you to meet Essel and Lizzy,” he says, turning back to us. “Essel, Lizzy, this is Daniel.”

Daniel scrutinizes us, and I can’t help but feel uneasy under his intense stare.

“So, this is the girl, huh?” he remarks, locking his gaze on mine before taking another puff from the spliff and exhaling the smoke above us.

I glance at Liz, equally baffled by his comment. Her expression mirrors my confusion. I look back at Pascal, my brows furrowing in search of clarity.

“I’m sorry, um, what?” I ask, my tone coming off a bit sharper than I meant.

"You’re the girl I invited for tonight," Pascal says, a hint of concern in his voice as he notices my irritation.

"You invite a lot of girls to your parties," I reply, gesturing toward the other women in the room, most of whom seem to be intoxicated but still manage to glare at me with envy.

Daniel laughs. "You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart," he says in a condescending tone.

Pascal tries to clarify, "I don’t invite these girls; they just appear. But you? I specifically invited you." His smile returns, brightening his face.

I take a deep breath, my brows furrowing in confusion. "What does that actually mean?"

"Ha, it means he’s into you. Obviously," Daniel interjects, sounding a bit tipsy. Pascal playfully nudges him away toward a group of girls behind him before focusing back on me.

"It means you’re my guest, and honestly, I do like you," Pascal confesses, nervously scratching his head.

What a fool. Does he really think I’m going to be his toy for the night? How repulsive.

I'm not entirely clear on what you mean by that, so just to clarify any misconceptions you might have about me, I think it's best if I head out now," I say to him over the thumping music. I glance at Liz and give her a discreet nod toward the exit, and together we make our way back to the entrance.

"Wait! Hold on a moment!" Pascal calls out from behind, reaching for my arm.

I feel uneasy with his hand resting on my lower back, and this grip isn't much better. I glance down at his fingers wrapped around my forearm, feeling uncomfortable, and it seems he picks up on my discomfort and releases me.

"Yes?" I turn to face him. In just a few moments, the crowd that was dancing around us has stopped and formed a circle, their curious expressions fixed on us. I see a girl pointing at Liz and me while some guys laugh and encourage Pascal.

Great, just what I needed—more attention, Essel.

"Nice one, Pascal!" shouts one of the guys from the crowd.

"Are you really going to hook up with the nerd tonight?" another person chuckles.

"She's just another one of his flings!" a girl behind me chimes in. It dawns on me that the music has stopped, leaving only the murmurs and chatter of the crowd around us.

A wave of unease begins to settle in my stomach as I listen.

"I promise I didn't mean any harm," Pascal insists, trying to drown out the jeers and taunts from those nearby. His pleading gaze seems sincere, as if he genuinely believes what he's saying.

I take a deep breath, ready to respond.

"That's what you always say," a much harsher voice interrupts, not my own but one that comes from behind me. Startled, I hesitate to turn around, trying to place the familiar tone, but Liz does, and her shocked expression reveals the identity of the speaker.