EMILY'S POV
I was having fun at the beach party so far. In the beginning I played frisbee, talked with friends, and made hotdogs then when it got darker people turned on lights and played music. While some people danced I stayed to the side and had a conversation with Monica. Everything was going good until Monica went to get drinks and I was standing by myself near where people were dancing. I had just turned to look at some of the people dancing, including Lizzie and her boyfriend, when I notice Brent coming towards me. I immediately headed over to Monica, I did not want to have to interact with him at all and I DEFINITELY didn't want to be with him by myself. But apparently he had other plans and grabbed my arm before I could walk away.
"Let go of me Brent!" I said, "I don't appreciate being manhandled like this and I don't want to talk or see you." Then I twisted my arm out if his grip. (looks like doing Jiu Jitsu for two years can pay off).
He simply grabs both of my wrists, pulls me close to him and says, "Calm down girly, I just want to dance with you."
I scoff at his words, and sneer back by saying, "Don't be an idiot Brent. We can't dance together."
"Hey, I don't care what people think of me, I still want to dance with you." He says.
"Oh Brent, how considerate of you," I say sweetly, "but I wasn't talking about you, your reputation could probably go UP by dancing with me. What I meant is I will NEVER dance with you." Then I give him a charming smile and try walking away from him, but he still didn't get the hint and pulled me back towards him.
I was getting annoyed and embarrassed, so before I snap I said, "Listen Brent, I can't dance and I don't want to dance with you." Unfortunately, he kept trying.
"Hey it doesn't matter if you are a bad dance I've seen you dance with your friends." He says.
"I don't like dancing"
"Come one it's just one dance"
I am now officially ticked off. So I snap, just a little, and raise my voice a bit and say, "Correction Brent, I can dance, I'm not good at dancing but I've danced before with my friends, what I'm saying is I don't want to dance with you. I do NOT like you and you know that, I would rather dance with anyone else but I would never dance with you." Then I get out of his grip and before walking away I say, "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I want to either leave now or I'm going to get my friends to dance with me. Good night." Then I walk off looking confident, but on the inside I am worried about the way he is going to act after that. I am praying I can get away from him because I don't like physical or violent confrontation unless completely necessary, and I have a feeling things might get violent soon.
"Stop right there!" I hear him shout, "Listen hear, you are just like I thought. You are simply a Slu* who likes having people's attention. I can't believe I thought you were any better." He says loud enough for everyone at the party to hear.
I am DONE. I am so tired of this Biatch bothering me and no one is going to get away with calling me, of all people, a Slu*. I turn around and face him.
"Listen here Brent," I sneer, "I am going to break this down into little words that you can understand better. I... don't.... like..... you..... I kept rejecting your advances because you bother me and are just another snobby player who treats girls as items and keeps track of all the hearts they break in a year. I have no idea why you are calling ME a Slu*, everyone here can tell I'm not. If anyone here is a little like a whor* it would be you the official manwhor*. So please explain how I'm the nasty one." I say coldly.
I notice some people are behind me and turn around to see Monica, Lizzie, Nandy, Ty, Tana, and all my friends there supporting me. When I turn back around I also notice the new boy gazing at me like he was reading me. He was watching me intently and Brent noticed. He uses this as a fuel, wanting to get the new kid who had popular potential, on his side. "Just look at the outfit your wearing, a tight crop top, high rise jeans that are meant to hug your tiny As*. Very Slu* like if you ask me, what do you think Zach?"
I turn towards the new kid because I am also curious to see what he will think. Half of me is curious and excited while the other half is worried. What he says can make or break my point and my night. It is all up to him, and he isn't someone one can predict or read like a book.