You were at a party.

It was bopping, the music cranked, alcohol being drank, and kids dancing like they had no where to be tomorrow. Usually these parties weakened later in the night, parents tiring of the volume and shutting the party down. But tonight was a parents-away-in-Hawaii party.

You weren't a drinker. Heck, you weren't a partier. But alas, you had to watch your little sister, some popular sleezballs scratching at the floor to get on her roster.

You got a bit carried away, and now you were bouncing from the ceiling on clouds of helium. You had never felt so free. You were blasted, the alcohol plus some shared blunts from a rando were not mixing well.

Patrick was also at the party. Most people were scared of him, his bad kid - criminal rumors didn't stick lightly. He was actually a gentleman, not one to take advantage of drunk girls, refuse to drive wasted friends home. He loved music, cigarettes, and shop class. And of course, you. Patrick had been down bad for you ever since you got kicked out of english class for a protest against some poetry project a few months ago.