My friends who are cooler than me, wait with me in a Connecticut town on a nondescript street waiting for one of our mothers to pick us up. My friends are skinny, stylish, and sweaty. They don't have on makeup but they just glow. Unlike me, they don't fight for attention.

At the party, we listened to loud music as we were shoved into one another by drunk guys and girls. It's hot and with how many people are crammed into this backyard, it gets even hotter. There's a DJ, somewhere and probably with the kid who owns the house. My friends and I see two girls we don't like and interact with them for the sake of showing face. We beat around the bush with our words and roll our eyes at each other without any discretion before parting ways.

We scouted for boys. We'll never go up to them and talk but they're nice to look at. There were too many of them that fit our tastes and since it was too hot their shirts came off and it felt even hotter. We drank from water bottles we brought from home as we gawked at them. Part of me wished one would approach my friend to maybe vibe with her or ask for her number.

My cool friends are twins that I've known all my life named Lauryn and Taylor. They're the reason why I'm not at my grandparent's house but I'm standing on this street right now. They both have connections and addresses. They both have a vibe about them but Taylor's vibe is easier to be around then Lauryn's. They're the reason I push myself out of my comfort zone and socialize more. Around them, I feel like I'm the ideal version of myself.

When the cops come we all scatter like nocturnal animals that come in contact with headlights. Lauryn, Taylor, and I always seem to hold hands when this happens to make sure our little raccoon family stays together. We run somewhere safe together and try to wait for the cops out but when they don't leave we check how much battery we have left on our phones and call our ride. We stand there with the rest of the critters, confused and hot. We say "hi" to people that we know that we didn't see at the party. Sometimes my mind gets fuzzy as I get pulled in different directions but I know that I can't let my anxiety ruin the mood.

We end up at Cumberland Farm. I don't know how or for what but we do. I don't like eating after a certain time but I spend money that I barely have on snacks and a slushie to make myself feel better. My friends still listen to the loud rap or old-school hip-hop played at the party as our parents drive through streets with barely any lights on them. I stick my hand out of the open car window, sip on my drink, and just vibe.