Shy. I hated that word. All throughout my life I’d been “shy” in high school I was teased for it, my brothers often tried to embarrass me in public. It was like a game. Who could be the most crass to make my pale cheeks turn the brightest shade of pink. Well now I was at university I wouldn’t be the shy one. I’d shed the cocoon of shyness and evolve into the beauty of confidence.
That’s what I’d thought anyway and yet here I was, in the corner of my first party. Like a lamb lost in the headlights I stared out at the people, dancing, drinking and some doing much worse. I was idly thumbing through my phone, it was only half past 10 and yet I wanted to leave, to slink away and be in the private comfort of my own dorm room. It took every fibre of my being to not go.
I pushed from my spot in the wall and approached a table filled with drinks. All filled with different coloured alcohol. I took a punt, grabbing an amber looking drink and sipped it down. The dark gold liquid flowed down my throat, burning my insides as it went.