I walk up to the front door of the Hollingsworth house nervously, wincing at the blaring music. I haven't been here since I told Miles that he had a crap family and no friends, and the place reminds me of how bitchy I was to him. Attempting to shrug off the faint pang of guilt, I force myself to push open the door and immediately find myself being approached by some blond haired guy wearing a backwards baseball cap and no shirt.
"Look who's joined the party!" he slurs drunkenly, seemingly annoyed when nobody reacts to him. "It's the preppy songbird wearing normal clothes!"
I roll my eyes at him and scoff as I make my way past; if I hadn't already been second- guessing my outfit choice I certainly was now. I'm wearing a black strapless dress and matching stilettos with far more makeup than I'm used to, all of which I arranged in order to stand out; I need Miles to notice me. Even if he doesn't have feelings for me anymore (which would be understandable I suppose) I need him to know that I'm not as pathetic as I made myself sound.
Avoiding the various items scattered throughout the house, I get to the kitchen and am starting to make myself a drink to follow the tequila I'd drank before arriving, when I hear a voice behind me. It's one I recognise but don't know where from, so I turn towards it and see a dark haired girl arguing with Winston. I think her name's Zoe or something? Rumour has it that she used to date Miles. I'm about to turn back and pour some more vodka and coke into my cup when I suddenly overhear a snippet of their conversation.
"You're the one who never wants to have sex!" Winston angrily whispers, causing me to frown; since when does virgin Winnie sleep with his best friend's exes? I turn my head towards them again, silently joking to myself that he'll probably try and come onto me next.
"We can do that if you want to!" Zoe's now protesting, pushing her hair behind her ear and looking earnestly into his eyes. "I want to make you happy!"
"That's not a reason to sleep with someone!" Winston exclaims, throwing his hands in the air and almost knocking his glasses off in the process. "We're supposed to love each other! Ugh, just forget it Zo; I don't know what's up with you but we're not working out." With that, he storms out towards the pool and Zoe lets out an exasperated sigh before spinning and facing me. I feel my face redden.
"Do you make a habit of listening in to other people's conversations?" she asks, not nearly as pissed as I'd excepted her to be; she instead just sounds tired.
"Do you make a habit of offering sex in order to make random guys happy?" I reply sarcastically, somehow finding myself incapable of breaking eye contact with her. I've never noticed how delicate her features are before, and I can't stop from staring at her beautifully dark brown eyes.
"Touché" she chuckles, pouring herself a full cup of vodka and downing half of it before looking up at me again. I'm amazed at how she barely seems affected by the drink; the burn of downing unmixed alcohol always makes me pull the most unattractive faces.
I guess she's had a lot of practice I think, and suddenly I feel the urge to get to know her, to let her know that whatever's bothering her is going to be okay.
"So what are you doing here?" she asks, licking her lips and fluffing out her hair before finishing her drink and promptly pouring another one. "You're Esme, right? The one who gave Miles the drugs"
"Oh um yeah.." I respond uneasily, looking around and checking that nobody is taking any notice of us. "But, um, are you okay?"
"Nope: I'm Zoe." She laughs, looking down at the table. I'm about to make a sardonic remark in response to her cheesy reply when I notice tears appearing in the corner of her eyes. "And I'm an idiot who does things that I really shouldn't do." She starts to shake and I put my arm around her immediately, ushering her upstairs and into an empty room without even thinking about it.
"I've done really bad things Esme." She sobs, going to sit on the bed as soon as I close the door to the Hollingsworths' spare room. "I've slept with people I shouldn't have, I've bullied people mercilessly, I'm using Winston… I'm a terrible person" She goes to finish her drink but I take the red cup out of her hands and put it on the bedside cabinet, feeling my head start to spin as the alcohol I'd drank finally starts to have its effect.
"You're not terrible at all babe" I soothe, sitting beside her and looking her earnestly in the eyes. "I'm sure I've done worse things, and it doesn't matter who you've slept with; it's nobody else's business." However, as these comforting words fall out of my mouth I can feel a prickle of jealousy; can it be that I want to be one of the people she's slept with? It can't be surely; I'm comfortable with being attracted to both genders and I know that I am, but I don't even know this sobbing girl; I can't like her in that way.
"But it's why I did it that's so wrong!" She exclaims frustratedly, more tears falling. "You don't get it. Nobody gets it, and I thought that drinking tonight would make it so much better but now even Winston hates me."
"He doesn't hate you" I promise, my eyes searching her face and looking for some tell- tale sign of what it is that's upsetting her so much. "I'm sure nobody could hate you."
With that, the brunette diva leans towards me and I can't help but close my eyes as her mouth connects with mine. I wrap my arms around her as her tongue pushes gently against my lips, as if she's asking for permission to go further. I'm about to grant it when she pulls away suddenly, her eyes wide and her face pale.
"Oh my god." She stutters, blinking rapidly. "Oh my god, no, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was doing- I"
"Shhh" I interrupt, putting my hand on hers. I try to limit the amount of concern evident in my voice so she doesn't feel patronised or freaked out, but it's hard to think straight when all I can think about is how that is something she probably isn't. It explains a lot; excessive drinking and offering sex to those that you aren't attracted to could well be seen as signs of someone hiding their sexuality, and it also means that I could have a chance. I try to stop thinking about that however, and instead focus on comforting Zoe. "Is this what you're so worried about? People knowing that you're gay?"
"I'm not gay." She snaps automatically, glaring at me as if wondering how I could dare to suggest such a thing. "I'm dating Winston." With this, she reaches out to retrieve her cup again, and my attention is drawn to the multitude of bracelets on her wrist, most noticeably one that has slipped down and revealed a bright red cut.
"Oh god" I exhale, my heart feeling like it's breaking for this girl that I'd never even spoken to up until a few minutes ago. "Zoe, look at me"
"Why?" She asks pointedly. "So you can accuse me of being a lesbian again?" I think she must have noticed my eyes drifting back to her arm as she spoke to me, because she glances down and a look of panic crosses her face as she pushes the bracelet back. "Oh that's nothing."
"Zoe, take off the bracelets." I say softly, not wanting to seem like I'm issuing a command, but too concerned to think of any better way to find out what she's doing to herself. "Zoe, please"
It's clear that she's tired of fighting because sure enough she starts to unclasp every chain and pull off each band until her wrist is clearly visible, and she places it in my lap whilst completely avoiding my eye. I can't help but hide my gasp when I see them up close; there are so many. They're all different sizes, with some deeper than others and some a lot newer compared to the ones beside them and it's clear that she's been doing it for a while.
"Fucking hell." I whisper, tracing over them gently with my finger and having to fight extremely hard to keep my tears from falling. "You shouldn't do this to yourself, Zo".
"Oh what a revelation." She spits sarcastically, withdrawing from me and shaking her head. "I shouldn't be in love with girls either, nor should I fuck every guy I meet but here we are." She stands up, clearly pissed at me and I do the same in order to prevent her from leaving.
"Please talk to me." I plead, standing in front of her. "I can't pretend I know exactly how you're feeling, but I do know that you deserve a lot more credit than you give yourself; I've only just met you and I can already tell you that you're beautiful and funny and strong, because even though you have a huge issue with a big part of you, you've kept going. That's more than can be said for a lot of people."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" She asks, fiercely wiping a tear from her cheek. "Everyone seems to think you're even bitchier than me."
"Well maybe I like surprising people" I suggest with a flirty smile, hoping to make her laugh. "Or maybe I'm just completely in awe of your bitchy reputation and I'm hoping to pick up some tips." I succeed in entertaining her; she lets out a giggle before stepping even closer towards me, leaving only a few centimetres between us.
"Or.." she whispers, her now dry eyes looking me up and down excruciatingly slowly. "maybe you're hoping that being nice will be enough to get me to offer you what I offered Winston earlier. Maybe you're the lesbian in this room."
"And so what if I am?" I probe, my heart beating too fast and my hands getting too sweaty to enable me to think clearly and defend myself. "What would you do about it?"
"Wouldn't you like to know"
With this flirtatious remark I find her lips on mine once again, our tongues exploring each other's mouths as I run my fingers through her hair and she pulls me closer towards her. The noise of the party continues as we fall back on the bed and spend the rest of the night together.