Smoke drifted between his lips. Even now he could feel the familiar buzz that came from weed and beer. He hadn't really experienced this level of freedom before. Unlike most kids his age, Nathan's parents didn't care what he did as long as he didn't get caught by anyone who would talk. But even they had their limits. His mother scolded him when he drank a little too much of her wine (what if someone saw! they would think i was a bad mother!) or if he smoked in public. Cigarettes were fine once he turned 16. Weed wasn't good optics. In his father's eyes, it was all bad. He could smell it on him, sure. But if he was caught actually smoking, there were vivid memories of him putting out cigarettes on his arms. Being caught drinking was enough to be forced to drink until he was sick. And in a way, Nathan had to thank his father for that little punishment. It's why he was able to drink so much more than the other people at this party and keep himself steady. People thought he was cool because of it. And every time affirmation was enough to make Nathan Prescott feel more of a rush than he could describe.
But his money and tolerance didn't do much for him in terms of respect. Sure, it won him some favors. But respect had to be earned, or so his father told him. He bitterly wondered what he would even know respect when he saw it. He finished off another can of beer. The noise of the party drowned out his thoughts almost as much as the chemicals did.
But there, in the dim light, he saw her. Sitting outside, as if fluttering between the edge of the party and real life, was Rachel Amber. He was in a few classes with her. To say she had caught his eye would be an understatement. But there was something about how she sat there, minding her own business, while everyone else got more wild that captured him.
That was his first thought. Obviously, it wasn't true. Right? Still, what a photo op. He doesn't take it, though. School just started and he didn't really know Rachel. But nevertheless, he walks out and stands close to her.
"Too much action?" He asks. Despite his issues (and there were plenty), he wasn't exactly the shy type. The noise was a tiny bit muted out here. At least he didn't have to yell over the music.