I looked over my reflection in the mirror one last time, thinking back to the text you had sent me only an hour before.
Party. My place. 9. You better be there. ;)
We had been having this back and forth, not quite friends but not quite lovers, thing for a few weeks now and I could never figure out where your head was at.
I gave my hair one last fluff, double checked my lipstick, and ran my hands over my strappy black tank and too short skater skirt before grabbing my purse and heading out the door.
When I got to your place around 9:20 the party seemed to already be in full swing. I let myself in, eyes scanning over the crowd before landing on you flirting with some girl by the far wall. I smiled to myself and moved to the makeshift bar, mixing myself a strong vodka Redbull and taking a few sips before melting into the party.
Every once in a while I would feel eyes on me, and glance over to meet your gaze. Each time you would quickly look away, back towards whichever girl was trying to hold your attention at the moment. I would simply smile to myself and go back to dancing, or flirting, or drinking.