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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1539250-Beauty
by Dresch
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Teen · #1539250
Inner thoughts about a girl observing the people around her at a party.
Beauty



I was dragged to the party, unwilling to be social. Letting my friend run off, I opted to sit on the couch in the corner, much more comfortable with being alone. The fabric was torn on the arm rest, but otherwise the couch was extremely comfortable. I picked at the rip, making it even more prominent. The band playing wasn’t very good, so when a song with a fairly decent rhythm started I looked up. Most of the people were dancing. One guy with bright red hair was doing some sort of bird dance, flapping his arms. I don’t think it was intentionally supposed to look like that.

I scanned the room. I spotted a poor soul leaning against the wall, hoping to be approached. Too bad it didn’t work that way. All of a sudden, a girl wearing a bright pink shirt slides onto the couch next to me. She appeared drunk. Turning to me, Pinky said something incoherent, then stood up and went back onto the dance floor. She must have been drunker than I thought; she was dancing with Bird Man. The band ended the Good song and began another, falling back into their terrible Air. I leaned my head against the back of the couch seat, feeling my eyelids becoming heavy.

I was woken up. Someone was shaking me. I opened my eyes to see Wallflower staring me down. He was gorgeous; I hadn’t noticed that from afar. He asked me why I was sitting alone. Mumbling, I mention something about enjoying being by myself. He pulls me up to dance, I refuse. It was then I realize he wasn’t waiting to be approached before; he was the one scoping to approach. And I was the lucky pick. He said fine, but that I was missing out in the fun. I pointed at Bird Man. The Beauty chuckled, waved, and then left.

I sat myself back on the couch and tore more off the rip in the couch. Pinky was flopping around like Bird Man now. I caught sight of The Beauty talking to another good-looking man, though he had nothing on The Beauty. They must have been brothers. Scanning the room, my friend was talking to one of her friends from school. Her name was Katie or Kelly or Kitty, something like that.

I found myself waking up again. I had fallen asleep for the second time that night. Rubbing my eyes, I saw the band was packing up. Bird Man was directing everyone out. It must be his house. Pinky was leaving being held up by two other more sober–looking girls. My friend finally finds me, and we exit the building, heading toward the car. The Beauty is entering his car, which was park next to ours. He sees me and smiles. I smile back, timidly. He looked like he was internally fighting with himself, but just waves. With one last look, I wave then enter my own car, silently wishing I could have just stayed home with a book, dodging everything that had happened the past evening.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1539250-Beauty