Watching people isn’t as fun as it used to be.

She’s standing at the same railing as always, staring out into well-lit darkness, watching the goings on.

It’s mostly people going to parties. Large, loud groups heading out for the street or catching the bus.

They’re all the same.

They act the same, talk the same, dress the same.

One group catches her eye though. They haven’t left for a party yet.

She’s been watching them since the boys walked out. Mostly because they’re cute.

What? She can’t help finding them attractive.

They met a groups of girls a little while ago. Now the posse is standing around the edge of the amphitheater.

She can here the girls giggling all the way across the green, even with her music blasting.

She hates the fact that she’s jealous of them.

She also hates the fact that the two people who sat next to her in one of her classes were party people.

They stopped talking to her when she said she didn’t have plans for the weekend.

Apparently they won’t talk to her if she doesn’t party.

She kind of wishes she did party.

A group of drunken fools climb off the drunk bus. The campus cop doesn’t even blink.

She’s not really into the alcohol, or the dancing, or the people. That’s not why she wants to go to parties.

It’s that they make you feel alive.

And she really feels dead.

She’d been to parties only a few times.

She’d loved every single one. At least the ones that hadn’t been run by the school.

It was the music pounding in your ears, and the laugher, and the drama and scandal of it all. Watching people make bigger fools of themselves the drunker they got. The feeling that anything could happen.

She loves that.

But she doesn’t love the people.

So she isn’t friends with anyone who parties.

She isn’t really friends with anybody.

A slower song starts playing in her ear.

Why is she wasting her life on slow songs?

She changes it.

On the green, she spots a couple flirting and laughing next to the previous group of interest.

He’s taking a photo of her.

It’s so cheesy she can’t take it.

The song playing now is a love song.

College guys are jerks though, she reminds herself.

She changes it again.

That doesn’t change the fact that she’s alone.

It’s another love song. She changes it again.

Maybe she’s a little desperate.

A hollow club song pounds in her ear.

Nothing feels right.

She lets the song play, but she’s given up on the night.

She turns and heads inside.