So this is my first story! Really the summary is quite shit but i hope you will enjoy it anyway (:
The title and general story line is inspired by the song "Fall Away" by the Fray (a great song, give it a listen.)
Fall Away
Chapter 1
Tall as I was for my 12 years, I could find no one I recognised over the mass of bodies all pulsing to the music being pumped loudly through the house. Vodka running through my veins I pushed past a bunch of sleazy guys flirting with a few helplessly drunk girls, rolling my eyes as I did so. I was glad it would be a few years before anyone tried flirting with me.
Pushing past a few more teenagers, sweat gleaming off their bodies from excessive dancing, I managed to remove myself from the crowd and into what appeared to be the kitchen. There, rifling through many bottles of alcoholic drinks was none other than James Cook, my best friend and all round wanker. But I loved him to death.
"Naomikins!" he shouted over to her by way of a greeting, "Howdy diddly are yah man? Fucking mental party yeah?" He grinned stupidly over at me, not waiting for an answer before plunging himself back into the stacks of drink on the table before pulling out a bottle of clear liquid and turning to me with a cheeky smirk. "Tequila?"
Half a bottle of the putrid liquid later and we were both lying on the sofa in the room full of dancing bodies, laughing about anything and everything. Cook shuffled on the sofa a bit, leaning into my shoulder as his hand fished around in his back pocket for something. Eventually he pulled out a small white stick, slightly crumpled and bent in the middle.
"Shit," he mumbled and set about straightening the thing out before holding it out to me with a sly smile.
"Spliff?"
"What?"
I regarded the spliff in his hand hesitantly. I'd drank before, clearly, I'd smoked cigarettes, but drugs was a whole new and daunting prospect of my party-life.
"I've never..." I trailed off.
"S'alright babe," he replied, smiling reassuringly, "First time for everything right?"
I returned his smile shyly and we headed out the backdoor into the cool night air, stumbling slightly on the step by the door and giggling.
Cook took the spliff and placed it lightly against his lips. He then pulled a lighter out of his pocket and flicked it, igniting the end of the joint with a red glow. He took a long drag and held it for a few seconds before releasing it and grinning lazily at me.
"Your go."
He passed the joint and I bit my lip nervously, eyeing the lit drug resting effortlessly between my fingers.
"Inhale, but don't swallow 'else you'll be sick," he added after watching me for a moment.
I raised the weed to my lips and sucked in lightly, breathing in further until I could feel the smokey substance resting in the chest before releasing it slowly and making sure all traces of smoke was out of my mouth before raising my eyes to his face.
For a moment his image distorted as if made of jelly before returning to normal and I laughed at the sensation of the spinning world. He giggled at my reaction and I took a larger and longer draw of the spliff and releasing. Half an hour later we were 'well mashed' as Cook put it.
I was left in the living room again, Cook had disappeared to 'get off with some girl he knew'. A flash of red caught my attention as I glanced about the room for someone to talk to. A small smile graced my lips as I caught sight of two girls I knew from school. They were twins, both in my class yet I hadn't shared a conversation with either of them, or anyone for that matter. I regarded them both through my drooping eyelids; They were both scantily clad, obviously to make them look older so as to ensure they got in to this party, the one in front, Katie, wore a very low cut black top with, what I was assuming was a blue push up bra, underneath to define her cleavage line, and a very short black skirt. Her sister, Emily, wore a similar black top (though not as low cut) with a similar bra only in pink and a short pink skirt (though once again not as short as Katie's).
I gave Emily a small smile and a half wave, which she returned shyly as Katie trailed her through to the kitchen by the hand. I caught a small snippet of the words ushering from her mouth as they both past me and in my laid-back and foggy head I pieced the conversation together along the lines of "C'mom Ems, we're going to get proper drunk."
Later that night, when I caught up with Cook again, we approached the twins. Cook only seemed interested in Katie's 'mint tits' and trailed me along behind him to get a proper look.
"Ladies," he exclaimed as he approached, "welcome to Cassa de'la Cookie" and he engulfed them both in his arms. He was pretty wasted by now. I rolled my eyes at him, before throwing Emily a small apologetic smile as she struggled to breathe against his embrace. When he released them, he began talking to Katie, trying to 'get in there' I assumed and I tried to begin an awkward conversation with the shy little Emily. Eventually we fell into an easy conversation about music and I learned that Emily was taking piano lessons and we shared a favourite band: Bon Iver.
The night went by in a blur of dancing and talking with Emily, even when I excused myself to head out the back for a fag, she followed, indicating towards Katie and Cook who were now playing tonsil hockey with eachother.
We sat on a small wall outside, the cool air sobering us and easing the tension as conversation died. I offered her a drag of the cigarette I had clutched between my fingers and she accepted, only to choke and cough up the smoke.
"S-sorry, I've n-never tired be-before," she spluttered, a mixture between laughing and coughing. I laughed to, pulling her closer and rubbing and patting her back to help her ease her coughs. The laughter died and I finally realised our close proximity, her breathe brushing across my face and her lips drew steadily nearer to mine, the sweetness of her tongue as we kissed and the painful yank at the back of my head as Katie trailed me off her...
Naomi Campbell woke with a slight jump, the bright light of the sun sneaking through a gap in her curtains and attacking her eyes enough to make her squint around her now empty bedroom. Eyes resting on the two large suitcases packed with her clothes and a guitar case carrying her 12-string acoustic and several boxes carrying bits and bobs for her to return to Bristol.
Bristol.
It sounded strange in her mind, to think that returning home meant returning to Bristol. For the past 4 years her home had been in the small villa she'd been living in Valencia, Spain. Absently, she rubbed her and along the back of her scalp. It had hurt for days after Katie had got to it. With a light sigh, she got up from her bed and headed to the small bathroom for a much needed shower.
Madrid was sweltering and stuffy. The 3 hour journey had been hell in the back of a small cab smelling distinctly of B.O and reminding her painfully of Cook's uncle Keith's pub. How I'd missed my best friend. They'd met when we were both 3, Naomi and Cook, at a toddlers group their mums had taken them to. He had pulled her hair and she had smashed his head with the wooden building block she was playing with and they've been mates ever since.
Naomi's reminiscing was cut short, rather rudely, by the stout taxi driver telling her she had arrived at the airport and waiting to be paid, his eyes never leaving her through his mirror. She through a handful of Euros at him, mumbling a quiet "Gracias" before escaping the taxi, hauling her luggage out of the bootof the car and onto one of the luggage trolleys found lying around every airport she'd ever been to.
Pushing the heavy trolley through the scorching sun to the shade of the airport, she headed straight for the check-in and began mumbling discreet and fluent Spanish to the clerk over whether the name on her passport was fake or not. She'd picked up the language with ease when she had arrived, having been studying it in school for 2 years before she left Bristol.
Eventually she found herself on the plane, and closed her eyes as the wheels left the ground, carrying her home.
Promise to update again ASAP!