023 | vanadium

                                    

                                          
× Mercury 
                          


                          
"Have you ever done a juice cleanse? It's just so renewing, you know? It helps release the natural healing power of your body by clearing built up toxins. Oh, and yoga. God, I love yoga."
                          
I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes. He must have thought I wouldn't listen because he insisted on keeping an arm around my shoulders to make sure I stayed put. Hearing him talk about healthy living and kale drinks and what not to do with your body was so exhausting that I almost had a beer just to get through the agony.
                          
God, help me.
                          
Jamie was sitting across from me on the other couch with Jace. I tried to tell them with my eyes to save me from this guy's conversation, but they didn't pay me any attention as they were too engrossed in their own drunken banter.
                          
Clearly God wanted me to suffer.
                          
We were in this little sunroom just outside the living area, but I could see Macey in the throng of dancing people just a few feet away. Beyond that, I saw Emily in the dining area sitting with Reese, no doubt talking about the time she took out a man three times her size with only her hands.
                          
I was glad my friends were having a good time, even if I wasn't. They were only here for one night and they had to make the most of it. They left Coach Sharp at the hotel with her tears as she watched Nicholas Sparks movies.
                          
The guy next to me continued explaining about his taste buds and his improved psychological connection to food, probably thinking he had my full attention when the exact opposite was true. He removed his arm from around me to express something with his hands, but then it went right back on my shoulders and I groaned. It was odd because he was so animated but his naturally sad, blue eyes take away the excitement.
                          
"Have you tried yoga?" he asked, but then continued to speak before I could even answer. "Yoga can be very beneficial to you in many ways. It can even help with football."
                          
At first, the party seemed promising, but as the night dragged on, I knew it was anything but. It was like any other party; dancing, drinking, making out, drunk stories... the only interesting part of the night was watching the girl in the kitchen a half hour ago doing body shots.
                          
Or at least it was until someone shouted over the music and a messy haired girl appeared in the doorway of the sunroom. Her big brown eyes locked on me and her face showed relief. 
                          
"Lynn!" the girl shouted, obviously out of breath. "Oh god, you need to come with me. I don't know what to do and he keeps asking for you."
                          
"What?" I asked, removing the guy's arm from around me and sat up.
                          
"He's freaking out. Abby's there right now but he keeps asking for you," she said frantically. I noticed that the strap of her tank top was falling down her shoulder and she wasn't wearing any shoes. "Please, come with me."
                          
I got off the couch without further questions and went with the girl through the sweaty bodies and up the stairs to the second floor. We walked down the long hallway of closed doors and pushed the last one open.
                          
I stopped in the doorway from the sight.
                          
The first thing I noticed was how dark it was inside; the only source of light was from a lamp on the nightstand set on the lowest setting. The room was really small, like the only things that could fit in the room was a queen sized bed, a large dresser, a wooden desk, and maybe a book shelf. It was cluttered with all kinds of random stuff like picture frames to magazines and clothes on the floor, beauty supplies and stuffed animals littered any flat surface. Whoever owned that bedroom had absolutely no organization skills whatsoever.