Party Time- Part 2

It was past twelve but the party hadn't seemed to tone down. The music was still pumping out of the audio system, and kind of became background noise to me. No one had left, either. And when the snacks, beer, and soda had begun to dwindle, Drake came out with more stuff.

Greg was gulping down beers at a rate that scared me. I tried to avoid him as much as I could, because the stink of alcohol on his breath gave me a sick feeling all over.

As I sat in a black leather chair by the sound system, I noticed a lot more about the place than I had when I first walked in. The walls were light brown wood, as were the floors. The ceiling was white plaster with small sockets where the lights were. Fancy place. No wonder Drake had endless snacks. He was probably rich.

I also noticed Greg coming my way with two beer cups in his hands. Not this again, I hoped.

"Alison, come on. Please just take a sip," he giggled. I could tell he was pretty buzzed, maybe drunk.

"I really don't think that's a good idea," I shrunk in my chair.

"Please, one sip won't kill you. I just want you to enjoy the party," as he put the cup in front of me, his hand was shaking.

Only one sip. I told myself. At least it'll shut him up.

I took the red cup and raised it to my mouth. Shivering, I brought it up until the cold liquid tickled my upper lip.

I drew in a quick sip that was barely beer, and mostly air, but a sip nonetheless. It was bitter and made my mouth burn.

"You can do better than that," he said before gulping down some of his own. "Come on, gimme a winner sip."

"A winner sip?" I took the cup away from my mouth.

"Yeah, be a winner," he laughed at himself.

I sighed, then took a big gulp.

"Whoo! That's a winner!" he chortled, then downed the rest of his drink.

I gagged. "Nasty stuff," I mumbled.

Across the room, someone had enough and ran to the bathroom. I heard retching sounds.

"Come on," he hiccuped. "Lets go somewhere."

"This is somewhere," I shot back nervously.

"No, another somewhere," he pulled his car keys from his pocket.

"You can't drive. You're drunk!" I stood.

"Then you drive, hon," he tossed the keys at me and they landed, splashing, in my cup of beer. "Slaaam dunk!"

I grimaced, fished out the keys, and started walking towards the door, dropping my cup in the trash. "Hurry or I'll leave without you."

The End

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