Popular, Hoe, Nerd!

CHAPTER THREE:

|Popular, Hoe, Nerd|

• • •

"Hey Aiddy, imma text ya the address. Meet us there in a few..."

He attempted a response, but she was too impatient to listen, and ended the call.

"Damn you Yve!"

He scowled at the text that dropped in a second after she hung up. The message had their rendezvous address, and meeting time in it.

"There's no turning back now..."

He loosened a sigh, and stuffed the phone in his hip pocket.

The address seemed close by, so switching outfits did not seem too smart. He had to attend to Yvette with what he had on, which weren't short of a leather jacket, white colour stained t-shirt, and a ripped denim jean. Coffee, and paint were the perfume that invaded the air under his arm when he sniffed it. His fingers still wore the shades of red and black colours, while tiny drops of white and gold, glinted off the backpack he had scrapped off the floor, just a few minutes after Yvette's text.

He tilted his head to the brick wall he stood before, and stared a few seconds at the half finished painting. He had managed the upper half of the skull with tiny rose petals floating over it, but the lower jaw was missing. The top had its complete set of gold lined smirking teeth, which among those was a fang soiled in mostly red and part gold.

A second of satisfactory smile smeared on his face and disappeared, as he grabbed tighter the straps of his backpack, and picked his way to the location Yve had sent.

His arts were his pride and message to the world, it held his inner demon and feelings soaked in the brush strokes and every dropping paint.

He mounted his bike, making his way to the address.

He came to stop at a gate, and wondered if the address he got was a mistake. While pondering on Yvette clumsiness at times, her message came in again.

It read.

"You'll see a button, coated in white to your right. Hit it, state your name into the white box that is above it, and the gate will be opened."

"Is this some prank?"

He threw his eyes at the direction the supposed button was, and found it, and the other, just as Yvette had stated.

Just then, she texted him again.

"In case you may be wondering if it's a prank, just know it isn't."

He growled and pounded the button, faked a name into the thingy above it, and stood back to watch the door open. It didn't.

"Wtf!"

He was midway to exhaustion, when his phone beeped in a text.

"Use your real name stupid!"

When he finally repeated the processes, and said his real name, the gate buzzed open, and he Stroud through.

"A freaking mansion!?" Adrian screamed in his head as he walked deeper into the yard.

The closer he got, the easier it was for the bass and jazz to bash into his ear.

"A party?" He face-palmed, and went to the door.

It was a party nonetheless.

There was one fun thing about parties hosted by seniors, and that was the all out R-rated kind, even on a school night. The three uniqueness of these sorts of parties: dim blinking lights, deafening rock music (this wasn't prom, no one cared for poor old waltz), and thick jabbing stenches, of weed, alcohol and the redundant vomits which suffocated the air, and not to mention the nauseating crowd which Adrian loathed more. But all these were what seemed thrilling to every other person waving their hands and nodding to the unbearable music.

He had never thought that Yvette and Devon's shit, was gonna be at a freaking party. And being a third wheel-ish on whatever was ongoing between Yve and RWHB captain, made him loathsomely cringe the more, but his absence would've cost him his hide, and a two hour pep talk from Yvette. He hated crowds, as much as his engraved displeasure for socializing, and this pact had him braced against a wall.

He made certain to officially be a part, exactly thirty minutes since he went through the tall ass gate, as being the whole "make-an-entrance-all-eyes-on-you" kinda guy, wasn't his strongest suit. He liked being a ghost: slip in unseen, loiter undetected, and disappear without a trace. But the situation he was currently in, didn't permit enough room to be lost in the shadows. It was one that somewhat required his presence.

It had been seven minutes, and no sliver of Yve was seen after he made a quick scan of the whole mansion, from the porch, golf yard sized living room, kitchen, and every nook she could be cuddly matched up with a boy –Devon or not.

He hated parties hosted by the wealthy spoiled kids of Ridgewood high. Parties are like expensive cars on an exhibit, with their finely polished, carefully sanitized luxurious abode as the exhibit housing the cars. Parties were their chance at struting their stuff. Not like he cared about expensive shits he couldn't afford, but still...

He should've left, but he didn't feel too ready to leave just yet. Maybe he was bored of loneliness, or needed the presence of non-sad humans, but what ever his reasons were, he did decide to stick around a bit longer.

"Hopefully something interesting happens."

Hopefully!

"Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!"

His attention was drawn to a chanting encircled horde, with one in the middle: legs coupled in the air, hands with a firm grip on the sides of a silver beer barrel, and mouth sucking the bitter juice through a tiny pipe on the barrel's lid.

"Barbarians!"

He scoffed, and immediately a ding in his head, reminded him of the need to puff a smoke, as it always helped him handle most social situations better.

He took out a pack from his jacket's pocket, hit the bottom, and sent the skinny bodies of the cigarette leaping. He reached out, and pulled up the tallest of the bunch, struck it between his lips, and rummaged his pockets for a lighter.

"Shit!"

His pocket was empty. He wasn't sure if he could go too long without a smoke or two.

"Fuck it! I'm out of here!"

His head tucked in a hood, face down as he went for the exit, but the blaring music and frolicking people killed his chance at enjoying solitude as he journeyed. He decided to fast-walk.

"Fuck!"

He blurted midair.

It could have been more embarrassing if he had fallen to the floor. He only tripped, stumbled in search for balance, and found it on the body of another, and non other than the sly devil himself, Devon. As he tripped, his shoulder had butted into Devon's, but before he could pull himself up, with young captain's shoulder for support, his initial hit had forced the contents in the red plastic cup Devon held, to splatter and drip down the shirt of the party host himself.

"The fuck dude!"

Devon turned to him, trying to reference his sudden hit and his alcohol soaked shirt. The hint was easily sent but dreadfully received and retorted.

"Watch where you step next time."

Adrian added coldly, and didn't bother looking back at him.

"Uh?"

All Devon did was sigh, and squeeze the spot the liquid poured on, hold it up to his nose, and tried squeezing again.

"Just nice Aid!"

Adrian cursed himself, for being so remarkably dumb. He also felt a bit satisfied for not having to apologize for anything too.

"This night might be a bit fun."

He tried running the activities he be in if he went home, and came half empty, as listening to his neighbor in the next apartment fight, would also be fun, but tripping popular and rich kids will serve him more dishes of fun.

He ended up with the decision of the irritating yet potentially good party, being better than his dirty apartment. And besides, it's been quite a while since he had been to an actual party.

The decision to stay, came at the price of finding the perfect less annoying spot to try relaxing in.

"That should work."

He spotted a balcony laying beyond the packed dance living room. I made his way there, got in and saw it as the perfect place to smoke. He slowly cursed the himself for misplacing the lighter.

"You've got a rock hard arm!"

He felt someone beside him, sinking her fingers into his right arm, pressing in and rolling over from the shoulder down to his wrist.

He turned to her.

"Hey Adrian! You know me, I'm Maddy, and I've always wanted to meet you.

Madelyn Gregory, Mad Greg for shorts to only her cheesy wannabes and haters, and that apparently was about seventy to eighty percent of Ridgewood High girls. Madelyn was one of the three Gorgon's of Ridgewood high (with Devon as number two) a look from either of the three, could petrify the heart of anybody. Her nastiness, and hoedom, made her a beacon of hate amongst the girls. Cheesy bunch!

"Don't you have makeups to be applying, or blowjobs to sell somewhere?"

If a sass would send her off, a few wouldn't hurt much.

"Get the fuck away from me wench!"

"So you would deny a girl a chance at giving you a good time?"

Her intention towards Adrian was crystal.

"I don't do dirty hoes!"

Adrian responded.

"Shoo! Bitch!"

She slapped him, and stormed out.

"Prick!"

She added, and pushed open the door, and exited.

"Many would do anything for a chance to see a Gorgon's panties."

The voice came from behind, who ever it was must have slipped in the second Mad Greg stepped out.

"Why?"

He inquired upon his decision of rejecting Madelyn.

Adrian had to look over his shoulder to find him, an insecure, nerdy male, slender with white snickers and a fairly faded denim jacket, wood brown khaki, and a baseball cap. He seemed lonely, not just a no-friend loneliness, he was the empty library kind: the last book you find on the shelf, with the title "how to treat a fresh wound": everybody knows about it, but nobody cares to have it.

"She's not very much my type. I like them... Invisible."

"They don't make them like the used to."

He jested, and Adrian agreed with a nod.

"I'm Aaron... Brown!"

"Cool! You can go away now!'

Adrian snorted.

"Sor....sorry!"

He spun around, and walked away.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

He stopped and turned back to Adrian.

"I hate people, they never listen!"

Adrian groaned.

"No!"

He rejected.

"I'm getting it anyways!"

He insisted, and opened the plastered glass door, allowing the booming music in, which ceased the second he closed it, and hurriedly merged with the crowd.

Adrian wished the young lad would miss his steps along the way, and fail to locate the spot he was, but his plans failed. Aaron reappeared, and so did the loudness Adrian was avoiding.

"Here!"

Aaron handed him a glass of golden-brown liquid, which was half way to the tippy top of the crystal glass.

"Matinee..." He added as he noticed Adrian give the glass a disdain look, before looking up at him. "You also hate matinees?"

"Also?"

Adrian noticed his choice of words.

"You appear unfazed by the relics and sentiments of this world –"

Adrian raised a brow at him when he paused, which forced him to decide upon an explanation.

"Dark... Cold... Rude... Antisocial! You appear to be someone who hates a awful lot of things."

His face showed how serious, yet jokingly his question was.

"I have other important things to worry about," Adrian looked away from him, and into the dark star stained sky. "Being away from it all makes me –"

He paused when he realised how much of a motor mouth he was getting. He said nothing more, and only stared into the far off darkness his dilated pupil could venture to.

"Either way, matinee is an excellent choice for you right now."

Aaron offered him the glass again, which he blithely accepted, and immediately sent every content into his mouth, closed his eyes and chugged it down his throat.

"There! Happy?"

He handed him the empty glass, and wondered why he stood anticipating a reply to his ill-mannered question.

"You bet I am."

Shockingly he answered with ease, as though he undertook Adrian's attitude as a challenge, which he did.

"So, what brings the member of Ridgewood High's antisocial club to one of the best parties around?"

He attempted a chance at a lengthy conversation.

What brings the bookworm lanky guy to a popular party, on a school night?

"A friend!"

He replied coldly, without gifting him a look.

"You're kidding me right?"

Aaron couldn't force down the laugh my scratching to erupt.

"You. Have. A. Friend?"

He successfully added with his lips drooling of laughter.

Adrian got irritated at some point, but still didn't seem to spare him any attention, although he secretly did.

"Another matinee?"

He looked at the glasses fitted tightly within the fingers of Aaron, which as well ended Evan's mocking laughter.

"Thank you."

Aaron back stepped, stopped and looked at him deeply. Adrian noticed, and added.

"Add a lighter too if you can."

His arms were still on the arch's railing, with his gaze fixated on the distance.

Aaron smiled as he nodded.

"One minute!"

He turned to face the door, braced his weight on it, and pushed it open.

"Couldn't find either!"

He'd returned, but this time, he had left the glasses behind, and didn't bother a search for the lighter.

"I lost them somewhere inside."

He lied again.

"We could go find it, that's if you would like to?"

He hoped his request is positively acknowledged. It was.

Adrian had seen through his lie, but for him to escape the lad, he had to indulge in whatever his plan was.

"Fine!"

He out the piece of cigarette that was stuck between the layer of his lips, and stuffed it in his hip pocket, and walked to where Evan stood, and went beyond through the opened door.

"So, your friend, where's he?"

They stood over the kitchen counter. Adrian leaned forward with a lighted cigarette spacing out in his mouth, while Evan had his back against it.

"She!"

Adrian corrected

"She!" Acknowledging the correction. "Where's she?"

"She sorta... stood me up!"

He raised the glass to his lips, and took a sip, which was followed with a quick cough.

"You both were supposed to be on date... In a place like this?"

"We were not on a date, I was forced here... Against my will. Not like I had to much of an opinion on the matter."

He muttered between his teeth.

"You could have just said no."

He shrugged.

Adrian found it meaningless to reply, and didn't.

Shortly Madelyn walked past them again, and smiled at him, before continuing in the direction she was on.

"That was amazingly gross."

He remarked at Madelyn's lecherous attempt.

"She loves you doesn't she? And you don't seem to –"

"Love?"

Adrian asked shocked, completely baffled by his naïveity.

"I don't believe in love, or any cosmic spark between two people. Love is just our brain giving us a reason to not use a condom."