Chapter 5 - Not Going to End Well

                                    

                                          
Chapter 5 - Not Going to End Well 
                          
The car is almost completely quiet - well except for the radio which is playing some old Justin Bieber song. You know the songs I mean, the kind that came out before he hit puberty all the way. I never have been a huge Justin Bieber fan, I only like, like two of his songs. ‘As long as you love me’, and ‘That should be me’. We’ve been driving for about forty-five minutes, and it’s nearly 9:20 now. I think Bradley may be asleep, Walker is resting his head against the head rest, one of his arms in his lap near my leg and the other wrapped around it loosely, Tanner is leaning his head against the window, looking out, Drew is quietly driving and Mikey is texting someone.
                          
I hate long car rides.
                          
Plus, my butt is getting kinda numb sitting on Walker’s leg for so long. He suddenly sits up, Walker I mean, and groans. “What?” I say, looking down at him.
                          
“Get up for a second,” He tells me.
                          
Being that we’re in a car, it’s kinda extremely difficult. Are ‘kinda and extremely’ contradicting words? I think so. I lift myself up out of his lap, kinda just wavering in air for a second before my arms grow tired and I perch myself in Tanner’s lap. Walker stretches his legs, making the bones in his knees and ankles pop.
                          
“Drewy?” I cry, sticking my head up into the cabby of the car.
                          
“Yes, Syd?”
                          
“How much longer until we’re there?”
                          
Drew looks into the rearview mirror, before merging lanes and getting off on an exit. “’Bout ten minutes, we’re almost there.”
                          
I sigh heavily, “Okay.”
                          
Walker gets his leg situation - they were going numb, I guess?  And I sit back down in his lap, crossing my legs in between his opened ones. That sounds way worse than it should, but you know what I mean. Like he’s sitting like a normal boy with his legs spread apart, and I’m sitting on his leg and mine are in between his stretched ones. I don’t if that made it sound any better, but I’m sure that you get the gist.
                          
After the longest ten minutes of my life, we arrive at Jake’s dad’s lake house. The party is obviously already in full swing even though it’s just now 9:45. There are cars parked all over the place and even with the door to the house closed, I can clearly hear the music from inside the car. There’s a good thing there are no neighbors anywhere nearby or he’d definitely be hit with a noise complaint.
                          
Drew drives around the base of the house, and parks near the lake. Yes, you actually see the lake, hence the term ‘Lake House’. He turns the car off and we all get out. I stretch, totally and completely ready to party. I just can’t drink though, since I’m driving back apparently. The boys will all get drunk, because they all always do. It’s Mikey though he usually fucks himself up the worst. Example? Last time we came to a party up here, Mikey got drunk and just disappeared. After frantically searching for our drunken friend at 2 in the morning, we found him passed out up in the tree house that’s in the backyard. His shirt was missing and he had some girls thong in his hand and two more pairs in his jean pocket. I found that fact not only strange, but disturbing.
                          
There are teenagers hanging around everywhere, but there’s a small group of six of them standing dangerously close to the lake passing around a joint of weed, taking turns smoking it. They don’t appear to be drunk though. Drew hands me the car keys and I look down at my dress, realizing I have nowhere to put them. I could put them in my bra, but I think that’d probably be very uncomfortable, not to mention weird looking. I decide to just hold them in my hand. We all walk up towards the door and when we reach it, I put my hand on the knob, pushing it open.