I hated parties, really.
As soon as we parked, I regretted agreeing to come in the first place.
First of all, there were over 100 cars parked outside, just imagine the number of people that may be there. Secondly, as soon as we entered through the back door, the scent of weed, alcohol and sweat attacked me, in an open space. Then lastly, everyone's eyes fell on me and Samuel, his hand draped across my lower back possessively. I felt awkward as we weaved through the people, them staring me down as if I was a disease . . . an outcast.
"I shouldn't have come here." I mutter to myself.
"Move." Samuel says to two boys who sat on chairs near the pool and I sigh at him, ready to intervene. Imagine my surprise when they stand withouft question, and leave.
"Samuel . . . that was rude."
"Sit.
