Chapter 3: NEVER THE QUEEN
Lily did not like tonight's house party. How could she like it?
She was like an unwelcome guest—a permanent wallflower left alone with a cold bottle of beer.
From the start, she knew very well that she shouldn't have come. But, there she was, standing next to a painting of Douglas' pet dog, Pippin. She was trying her very best not to be the sad wallflower of the party.
Then why come and be awkward around all these people then? She asked herself. She had been beating herself up with that very question over and over again in her head for the last thirty minutes. Her answer would always be the same old excuse every time.
She was bored at home.
That much she could honestly admit to herself. She could tell a soul about it—if only she had somebody to talk to, of course.
In one corner, couples were making out. Near the massive kitchen of Douglas Jones' mansion was a booze fest. At the center of the spacious living room, a local rock band was playing. The expensive crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling was a grand illumination.
The venue of the house party was nothing sort of ordinary—far from it. It was one of the regular parties Douglas hosted, yes, but held at a mansion, owned by one of the richest families in town.
Fancy, all right. Because of it, Lily was careful not to break any of the china or ruin the expensive furniture. She could be clumsy sometimes.
Everybody was all about partying. Everybody was loud and wild. A group of strangers meeting more groups of strangers. No one was worried if they ended up tired or drunk.
Broke or heartbroken.
Wasted or happy.
Whatever really.
The truth was that, sometimes, Lily did like parties like this. Keyword: sometimes. She might have been born a killjoy, but she liked having a good time with friends too. Tonight's party just happened to be one of those she disliked.
Why?
Looking around her, she found her first reason. She did not know most of the people at the party. She was partying with high school students, strangers, and underaged partygoers. Too much noise and wild partying could mean the neighbors would, no doubt, call the police on them. All parents' worst nightmare.
So, the idea of Lily talking to these strangers sounded like her little introduction to class on the first day of school—unremarkable, unimpressive, and unnecessarily nerve-racking.
Even if she dared to be in small talks, she was the type to shrink when all eyes were on her.
The second reason why she should have skipped the party in the first place was the fact that it had become a den of couples in love—drunk with sexual desires on very public displays. The whole place had become a bigger version of a kissing booth. Though not by her choice, she had become everybody's third wheel.
One pair was only a foot away from her. Another right in front of her. Torrid kissing. Moaning. Hands going here, there, and everywhere. Couples were all around. In the dark. By the foyer. Upstairs. All around her.
It was not a comfortable position for her to be in. It was a lot to process as she was a not-so-acquainted-to-the-more-daring-ways-of-the-world virgin.
Awkward, to say the least.
There were just things in the party that couldn't be unseen.
In Lily's case, she had yet to understand the real deal of kissing or making out or even dating in general. She never had a boyfriend before. She was a literal outsider to the game of the true love's kiss and of the birds and the bees. Her small circle of girlfriends told her that kissing was magical. Like a dream come true. A fever pitch and a coming of age rule.
Girls do not go to college with a zero kissing credential, they said.
In her world, kissing was labeled as undiscovered, open waters to dive in. "Beware of the Sharks" was the warning sign.
And technically speaking, at least to an inexperienced eighteen-year-old girl like Lily, kissing was unhygienic.
Please. Don't even get her started about sex, she complained. A complaint directed only to herself.
Maybe, one of these days, she would give the whole thing a try. Sooner or later, she would engage in it. After all, she was a virgin and not a martyr.
Stealing an awkward glance at the couple to her right, she wished they would go away. They were a little too close to her. She needed them to spare her the awkwardness she felt.
Being caught in the middle of teenage lovefests was not new to Lily, actually. She got used to it after going to so many parties. It put her in an awkward situation, most of the time, yes, but nothing had frustrated her, so far.
After another look around the room, she figured why she was feeling unwelcomed and invisible at the party. She obviously didn't belong, and it frustrated her. She already knew this. She always had. Yet, she hoped she did belong.
Tsk, tsk.
She was really re-evaluating her decision to come. Partying was worse than being bored at home and rewatching Forensic Files after all.
In Fram Hill High, she was given the moniker, Stiff. Stiffs like her apparently could not enjoy any social activities and appreciate pleasantries.
Or laugh. Or scream YOLO!
She was a classic case of sticking out like a sore thumb.
Even after three years of living in Fram Hill—a town with a population of about ten thousand—the folks still saw her as that girl from the big city.
She was an outsider, always outside looking in, a tourist in her father's hometown. Much of her city girl background was obvious, so she looked different in looks and demeanor. Well, she should look different because of her being mixed race. She was an offspring of a biracial couple—an American man and a Japanese woman. She talked in a different manner and accent because she grew up in Metropolitan. Her profile was new to an old town that valued tradition and consistency and had a habit of scrutinizing newcomers.
If only people could see beyond what Lily was or where she grew up, they could see that she was no different from them after all. She wished that they appreciated her a bit more and speculated less. Then, maybe, she wouldn't be the Stiff they claimed her to be.
She could be friendly too. People could ask her close friends about her hobbies, talents, and favorite books for a start.
High school was already such a difficult place for a teenager, dummy. A whole town was a whole new level of hardcore, she remarked to herself.
"Oh, well... this is my life now..." she sighed, waiting for someone to finally say hello to her.
Until that moment happened, she thought of how to introduce herself if ever: Hello, my name is Lily McQueen. A wallflower. Never the queen.
***
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
TheMerryTroll
TheMerryTroll "The Rescue Blues" is my first writing project. Please give it a chance and enjoy Ray and Lily's story. I started writing TRB with the intention of it eventually becoming a book series.
The book title is inspired by a Ryan Adams song of the same title. It's one of my favorite songs of all time.
Yorushiku onegaishimasu!
Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
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