A/N: Welcome back to my trash. Please read the warnings and be safe! 3 A lot of French is spoken, but translations are written at the end. Also, apologies for taking so long.
Songs of Inspiration:
Pity Party & Mad Hatter - Marina and the Diamonds
Fever - The Black Keys
Warnings: Underaged drinking, partying, and drug use; molestation; cursing; homophobic slurs; casual sexy stuff.
3. A Winter's Party
As I walk down the stairs to Hercules' basement, I can hear loud music already blasting. Hercules calls this the 'pre-party', essentially, we start drinking, dancing, and having fun before the real party while we get ready so by the time we're there we know we're ready to party. Usually, I only go to the pre-party, than leave when the others are heading to the actual party. I've been to a few parties here and there, but usually, it's with people who are strangers and I don't have to worry about them remembering me the next day.
Hercules' basement is huge, packed with pretty much anything a basement could need. He has a huge TV atop a long TV stand, centered in front of the old sofa he's had for years that has seen our darkest times. There's a liquor cabinet in the corner- which Hercules parents try and pretend we don't get into to. The spare bed, which is really just a mattress with a few blankets thrown over it, lies beside the liquor cabinet. Across the room, Hercules has tons of boxes that he never unpacked when he moved here in fourth grade. Since then, he's just gotten more boxes as he's gotten more stuff.
When I get down the last step, I see Lafayette holding up multiple different items of clothing, trying to figure out what's the best. Hercules looks completely bored with the whole thing, more focused on peeling at the wrapper around his beer bottle while he sits, spread out on the couch. John is making noises of distress as Lafayette keeps pulling in various directions while John is standing on a box, trying to fit Lafayette's abundant hair within the restraint of a ponytail. Lafayette notices me and his face brightens, "Ah, finally! Dieu merci, someone with a fashion sense!" he exclaims.
"Hey!" John huffs, obviously offended.
"John, I know it is mostly your pour excuse for a father's fault, but most days your dress is... how do you say it in America-" Lafayette questions.
"'Awful'." Hercules adds in with a laugh.
"John, you look great today." I cut in, smiling over at John. He returns the smile, and I'm happy to see how confident he looks. He really does look nice, he's wearing a pair of nice, new, dark blue jeans, a dark red sweater over top of a blue flannel, and over that a gray blazer. He's done his hair in a nice bun.
"Yes, John, you do look nice." Lafayette assures him, then looks to me, "Now, can we please help me also appear pleasant?"
I laugh and nod, plopping down next to Hercules on the couch. Hercules throws an arm around me, handing me a beer with his free hand after popping off the cap with his teeth. I take a long sip as Lafayette holds up the clothes for display. There's one with a sweater and a worn out pair of jeans that I immediately reject.
"What is wrong with the sweater?" he asks with a frown.
"It looks lazy," Hercules says with a shrug, which is a little bit ironic considering he's chosen a shirt, jeans, and a jacket to wear, "Abella is a girl with taste, she's not gonna go for it."
Lafayette rolls his eyes, "Who are you trying to impress?"
"No one, and let me tell you, it's the good life, my man." Hercules grins.
"Not even Hollie?" John asks nonchalantly.
Hercules grumbles, leading the rest of us into laughter. I smile at Lafayette once I'm done laughing, "Show the next outfit."
He holds up another outfit, much better than the last, a gray blazer over a white shirt with black jeans.
"It's nice," I say gently, "But-"
"But?" he groans.
"It's not very you. You want to dress up, sure, but you also want to be yourself." I explain.
"Any other 'rules' you or Hercules would like to specify?" he asks.
Hercules and I exchange a look, "Nope." we say in unison, taking long sips of our beers.
John nudges Lafayette, finally done with pulling his hair back, "Show her the best one." he urges, stepping down off the box and moving it aside. "Lyra, get over here so I can do your hair, then you can take off that awful outfit."
I stand up from the couch, John's comment reminding me that I'm wearing a sweatshirt and baggy jeans- the only outfit I can manage to get out of the house with, without giving my dad a heart attack. He's always been so strict. I've learned to just wear an outfit and change when I get to wherever I'm going. I sit down on the floor, John kneeling down to start parting my hair.
Lafayette holds up the last outfit he has, and I make a small gasp of amazement. It's a gorgeous, long brown coat and a gray vest overtop a dark blue, button-up shirt, he has the same black jeans from the second outfit to match with it. "That one! That one!" I chant, clapping my hands.
"See?" John teases, "How's that for no sense of style."
Lafayette grins, "Alright, this one it is, then." he agrees, moving to strip down. Hercules whistles, to which Lafayette pleasantly responds by flipping him off.
While John continues on my hair, reach over and pull my bag to me, pouring out my make-up supplies on the floor. I open my compact mirror, working on applying some onto my face.
"Hey, Ly," John speaks softly from behind me, "Are you going to be alright at this party?"
I smile to myself, only John would ever think to ask. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm actually kind of excited."
"I'm glad, you're going to have so much fun." he assures me.
"Ceci est incroyable! Il semble encore mieux sur! Pouvez-vous croire que je suis en train de la fille de mes reves ce soir!" Lafayette exclaims, showing off his outfit. I catch a bit of his French and he's correct, the outfit does look better on. He's grinning, and I swear that this is the happiest I've seen him since he came to America. It bring a smile to the rest of our faces too. He fiddles for a moment, sorting through multiple pairs of glasses, he settles for the thick, dark brown ones and looks to me questioningly.
"Magnifique." I agree with shaky pronunciation.
Lafayette laughs, looking pleased, "Ma petit Lyra! Tu apprends!" he rushes over to me, wrapping his arms around me in a hug.
"Careful." John mutters, still working on my hair.
"Juste un peu." I reply, a little embarrassed as I use my fingers to signal 'a little'.
"Je ai appris beaucoup plus. Essayex de vivre avec lui." Hercules adds in, walking over to join the group.
"English, please." John begs softly, we all give him apologetic looks- well, Hercules and Lafayette do, I try to stay still as John finishes up my hair. "There." he says, sounding satisfied with his work.
I lift up my mirror, checking out my hairstyle, "John, you never cease to amaze me." I praise, staring in awe at the magnificent crown braid John has created out of my dark brown hair.
"Thank you." he replies, sounding thrilled.
He doesn't often get the adoring responses toward his talent. His father calls hairstyling a 'faggot job', I flinch even just thinking about it, my stomach churning. I'm so sickened by it. How can a parent say those things to their own child- especially to someone like John, who is nothing but kind? I've never had the best relationship with my father, but God, I've suffered nothing in comparison.
Hercules once suggested doing something about it, on a night where John was forced to go home, leaving only Hercules and I behind. It was years ago, before we'd even first met Lafayette through a blogging site. Hercules suggested killing John's father, quick and easy in the middle of the night, he went through the whole plan down to the last detail. I'd realized that this wasn't the first time he'd thought of this, and I realized it wasn't my first time either. We might have even done it- a little more alcohol and there could have been no turning back.
But then I remembered that John is so unbelievably caring, that he would miss his father and blame himself. And even worse- if Hercules, myself, or both of us had landed ourselves in jail, John would have been all alone. And that would be a worse punishment in his eyes. So we decided against it. It's not the last time we brought it up, though, and most certainly not the last time I thought about it.
A sudden knock on my head jars me out of my thoughts, and I jump a little outwardly. The boys are all frowning, Hercules is holding his hand in a fist toward my face- he must have been the one knocking on my forehead. "Earth to Lyra, you in there?" he asks.
I blink a few times, trying to realign my thoughts, "Y-yeah, I'm here. Sorry, I was just thinking." I apologize, "I-I should- I should get changed." I mutter quickly as I stand, doing my best to change the subject. It's not that I'm really ashamed of my thoughts, but the topic will only dampen the mood and definitely upset John, that's the last thing I want right now.
I stand up, quickly pulling off my sweatshirt and jeans, grabbing the real outfit I brought. I change quickly but carefully, not wanting to mess up my make up, or even worse, John's hard work. Once I'm done, I pat myself down and turn to the boys, who still look a little concerned- but it's wiped away once they get a good look at me. A dark red, high waisted skirt, with a white, bralette crop top, and a jean jacket over top, with black tights and brown, ankle boots. Over it all, I wear the fuzzy cream scarf that John got me for Christmas last year.
John grins at me, "You look amazing!" he exclaims, his bun flopping along with his head movements.
"Il suffit de couper le souffle!" Lafayette cheers, obviously pleased. John shoots him a look and he gives an apologetic smile, "My apologies, you look great."
Hercules doesn't just settle for a nice comment, instead a smirk comes to his face, "Who are you trying to impress?"
I can feel my cheeks getting hot, I smooth down my skirt to avoid making eye contact with the boys, "Everyone." I mumble.
And it's true. Despite being friends with three of the most outgoing people out there, I'd never really taken the steps to branch out myself. The least I could hope for is to make a good impression- well, the best impression I can when I become inevitably wasted.
I once again avoid the subject at hand, looking to Hercules, "Hey, I know you're not dressing up too fancy today, but you should at least where one of your nice bandanas.
In fifth grade, Hercules developed this obsession with bandanas, as per result of his 'motorcycle aesthetic' fascination. Since then, they've been Hercules trademark item- just like John with sweaters, Lafayette's abundant pairs of glasses, and my ever growing scarf collection. Hercules has at least one hundred bandanas, John tried to count once but lost interest after about fifty-seven. It's gotten to the point where we've sorted them for occasions, he has ones for holidays, everyday, parties.
"I was getting to that." Hercules assures me, "I know just the one."
John and Lafayette start guessing among themselves as Hercules crosses the long basement, looking in his 'special occasion' labeled box of bandanas.
"The sparkly one?"
"The camouflage one?"
"The purposely ripped one?"
"You're all wrong." Hercules laughs lightly, pulling out one. It takes me a moment to realize what it is, I haven't seen it in so long. It's brightly colored- tye dyed- the one that John and I made for him in sixth- or was it seventh- grade.
John kind of makes a noise that resembles choked laughter, "Really? That one?"
"It's my favorite." He replies with a shrug.
"I'm pretty sure Lyra broke the blue bottle when we were making that." John replies. And it's true, there's this out of place, big blue stain on the headband from the incident.
"I did." I admit, giggling, "But John told me it gave the bandana character."
"I am certain 'character' means, as Hercules says, 'awful'." Lafayette tells me, grinning ear to ear.
John nods slightly, trying to calm his laughter, he looks to me, "Do you still have that giant blue spot on your floor?"
"Covered up with a carpet so my dad can't see it," I nod, "Yep."
John only laughs harder, wiping at his eyes, "Yeah, Herc, I think that's the perfect bandana."
"And I hate to ruin the moment," Lafayette says, "But we should be on our way if we are to get to the party at a reasonable hour."
Hercules nods, tying the bandana to his head and grabbing his keys off the TV stand, "Let's go."
Line break -
When we arrive at Abella's house, the party is already in full swing, as evident by the scattered, empty red solo cups and beer bottles, and the two people who are basically fucking on the lawn. Hercules whistles at the two, both of them shooting a thumbs up. John moves a little closer to me, grabbing my arm. I'm not sure if he's worried I feel uncomfortable or he is uncomfortable.
Lafayette gets ahead of us, knocking on the door. He's brushing himself off and messing a little with his hair (before John smacks his hand away). He practices looking casual, wanting to impress Abella. It's cute to watch- a little embarrassing, but mostly cute.
Abella opens the door, and even though Lafayette is the only one head over heels for her, I think we're all a little taken aback by how good she looks- John even gasps a little. Her long, red hair falls in thick, long curls perfectly around her face. She has a maroon colored, oversized sweater that's slightly tucked into her black, button up skirt. She wears black tights and a pair of Toms. She looks fantastic. She smiles brightly, pulling Lafayette into a hug.
"Lafayette, you came! You look great!" she exclaims, kissing his cheek.
He turns a slight shade of red, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck once he reluctantly pulls away from the hug, "Thank you, mon minou."
I hear Hercules making a noise, biting back a laugh at Lafayette's words. 'Mon minou' translates to 'my kitty', a term usually reserved for the bedroom.
Abella laughs a little too much, making me wonder if she's got a huge crush or she's already drunk- maybe both. "Oh Lafayette, one day I'll figure out what you're saying." she says, turning to open the door wider for us.
Hercules nudges Lafayette, "Maybe you could just show her." he murmurs.
Lafayette, John, and I all kick him disapprovingly as we follow Abella in. Hercules booms with laughter, "Oh, come on, it's just a joke!"
John leans closer to me, "Did you see her hair? What I'd do to try my hand at styling that." He whispers, voice filled with awe.
I smile at him, "You should ask her." I encourage gently.
He shakes his head, "No way." he says simply, "She's way out of my league."
It's true that Abella would be considered highly ranking on the popularity scale- if you believe such a thing exists. It's not surprising, either, considering how kind, funny, and inclusive she is- almost everyone knows he in someway, either through ASB or the drama department. I don't think John necessarily realizes how popular he is, though, especially within the drama department.
"I think you should give it a try." I insist, but my voice is drowned by the loud music that is blasting in Abella's house.
Beside the door, she has a selection of drinks, pouring each of us what we ask for. As I'm handed my solo cup filled with a mixture of coconut vodka and fruit juice, I take a look around the house. It's hard to tell what the house really look like in the dim lighting. A group of people are stripped out of various articles of clothing, happily engaging in a game of beer pong on the coffee table. Another girl is taking jello shots off of- is that Aaron Burr?- I don't allow myself to ponder on it for too long. The outside, where the music comes from, is even more lively. I hear people yelling from behind the screen door, and splashes that are not too far apart. Abella must have a pool, then. Thomas Jefferson is dancing, in socks, on top of the dining room table, shirt off and spinning above his head. Seeing everyone in this environment is a little bit overwhelming.
I notice Alexander, and my heart nearly stops, I'm still not anywhere near over the events of my apology just a few days prior. He doesn't seem particularly interested in the party around him, tucked in the corner, beside a piano. He's reading the AP US History textbook, writing little notes on post-its, though after a moment of staring I realize he's constantly glancing up for short periods of time. I follow his line of sight, and almost laugh when I see what has him so alert.
Philip and Emerson are across the room, leaning close to each other as they speak. They both have cans of soda in their hands, much to my hypocritical pleasure- sure, I'd started drinking young, but that didn't mean I was encouraging others to do it. They seemed to be the only two in the room in their own eyes, not noticing the chaos ensuing around them. I see that their hands that aren't holding drinks are laced together. Emerson looks adorable, her hair straightened so it reaches almost all the way down her back, she has a dark raspberry flannel tucked into a leather skirt that reaches just a little above her knees, and these cute black, buckled heels.
Alexander is only at this party to make sure Philip doesn't get into any trouble, that brings a smile to my face.
I feel John's hand leave my arm, making my attention leave Alexander and making me realize realizing how comforted I was by it. John has his hands in his pocket, wandering off from the group toward the hall of rooms. "John." I call after gently, he turns to look at me.
"What is it, Ly?" he asks, fidgeting a bit. I assume he's a little overwhelmed by the crowds, despite his love for partying, he's always had troubles coping within a large group.
"Please don't take anything, alright? If you don't know what it is." I feel a little guilty for asking him this, I know I'm not his mother- in fact, he's older than me by a few months. But he's struggled with substance abuse in the past and I only want to keep him safe.
His face softens a bit at my worry and he nods, though he doesn't look very sincere. He waits a moment to see if I'm going to say anything else, than turns back around when I don't, continuing down the hall.
Heading toward the same area is Marzia, she seems even more uncomfortable than John to be here. Her short hair is curled a bit, she's wearing a pair of dark, skinny jeans, the darker scale of red violet on her shirt, and a black, three-quarter sleeve blazer. I step forward a bit, "Marzia?"
She looks back at me like a deer in headlights, though relief falls over her face when she sees me, "Oh, hello Lyra." she says, voice soft.
"Can you do me a favor?" I ask, "I hate to bother you, but I noticed you were heading toward the back rooms and..-"
"What is it you need?" she replies kindly.
"John's heading the same direction, can you just- watch over him a bit for me? He'll know something's up if I do it."
"Of course."
"Thank you. I'll repay you-"
"It's no trouble." she assures me, setting a hand on my shoulder for a moment. She sounds so reassuring, her voice filled with compassion. Her hand leaves my shoulder too soon, and she sets back down the hall after John.
It's only then that I realize I am alone. Lafayette and Hercules are nowhere to be found. I trail toward the center of the room, my drink gone from my nervous sips before I know it. Luckily, there's a setup of a drinks nearby, and I proceed to pour myself the first thing I can get my hands on. My hands are a little shaky, I note while pouring. I down the drink- I've always been a nervous drinker. And before I know it, another ten drinks have been finished off by me.
"Lyra!" a voice- Philip's- exclaims while I'm in the process of getting my next drink.
I glance up, smiling lazily, "Philip, what's good?" I sound like an idiot.
"Are you good?" he asks, "You've been non-stop drinking for the past twenty minutes."
"Has it been that long..?" I murmur, shrugging and taking another long drink. "I'm fine, I know my tolerance."
Philip nods slowly, seeming a little hesitant before he's back to his happy self, "Can I ask a favor of you?"
"Yeah, sure." I reply, "What can I help you with?"
He grabs my shoulders, moving me, my drink sloshing over the sides a bit. He stops me at a certain point, "Alright, all I need you to do is stay right there, no moving."
I almost say 'kinky', but I keep it to myself, nodding at Philip in confirmation. He walks away from him and I watch him quietly, maybe if I wasn't on my eleventh drink, I'd be more concerned as to what he was doing, but I'm not. He's back by Emerson's side, smiling at her brightly. He whispers something in her ear, before dipping her, and I choke on my drink as he pulls her into a deep kiss.
I come to the realization that this is why I'm standing here, to block the view of this to Alexander. As soon as I make the connection, a rough hand is on my shoulder, moving me aside- Alexander. It's pretty obvious what had just gone down, Emerson is dark red and completely out of it, Philip is grinning from ear to ear.
"What is going on here, Philip?" Alexander asks, a frown on his face.
Philip laughs, throwing an arm around Emerson's shoulder, "Nothing." he claims.
Alexander doesn't buy it, he turns to me, "What is going on?" he repeats.
I hesitate, my mouth going dry as I recall the moments at the library. I want to tell the truth, but then I see Philip's pleading look in the corner of my eye, begging me not to tell. "Nothing." I answer, echoing Philip.
Alexander stares at me for a long moment, burning into my skin, but finally he seems to accept it and turns away to go back to his spot against the wall. He sits and picks up the history textbook, glancing at me for one moment that seems far too long until it's over and he's back to reading.
Philip runs over to me, pulling me into a tight hug. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" he repeats over and over, and I wonder how the short kid is able to lift me in all his excitement.
Emerson also approaches me, very quiet as she mumbles a "Thank you." as well. She still seems a little shaken by the whole thing. I smile at her, suddenly feeling much more confident in my decision to lie to Alexander.
"No problem." I respond, smiling.
I become suddenly aware of a presence beside me, jumping slightly. Beside me stands James Madison, looking a cool, calm, and collected as ever.
"Hey Mads!" Philip exclaims. Philip and Emerson turn from me, their attention focused on Madison- which I harbor no ill will about, for my attention is on him too. Something about Madison just grabs it- possibly how effortless he seems.
"Hello Philip, Emerson." he nods a greeting to them, fist bumping Philip, he smiles over at me- just slightly, "Hello, Lyra."
I'm completely shaken by it- not only is he recognizing my existence but he knows my name. I stumble over a simple, "Hey." and try to drink down my nerves.
"You've been doing great in football this season." Philip brings up, and just like that my eye contact with Madison is over and I can breathe again.
I don't pay too much attention to the conversation- not because I don't want to, but because I keep getting distracted when looking at Madison and my own drunkenness has got me a bit easily distracted. They're discussing football, I know that much. Emerson is enthusiastic as she speaks- she doesn't seem to know much about the sport but she goes to every game in support and that's more than I can say for myself. I do, however, know Madison is an excellent player and is no doubt receiving a full ride to a college for it.
Something I am fully aware of, however, is how often Madison seems to glance longingly at Philip; even when Philip isn't the one speaking. I'm not exactly sure what it means, but it does plague my curiosity.
After a while of chatting, something or someone else gets Philip's attention, and just like that Philip has dragged Emerson away happily. It's just Madison and I- I can feel my heart pounding. It's not like I'm in love with him- or anything close to that. If anything, I idolize him. For me, being in his presence is like being with a celebrity- nervous and worried that you're going to say something wrong- just wanting desperately to make a good impression.
"How are you doing this evening?" he asks me.
It seems to take forever before I register the question, "Oh-" I blurt, tumbling over my words, "It's been just fine- how about you?"
"Good." he responds with a shrug, I notice his gaze trailing toward the crowd. Once again, his eyes are on Philip.
And I blame the alcohol for how direct I am when I say, "Sorry for asking, but Philip- I notice you keep looking at him- is there a reason?"
It's quiet for a moment and I worry I said something wrong, I'm about to open my mouth to apologize for the rude question, but he's speaking before me, through laughter, "You mean you don't know? You're the first, I admit."
I'm even more confused now, my brow furrowing, "Is.. there a joke I'm missing?"
"Not really a joke," he chuckles, wiping at his eyes, "I'm gay, and I have something of a huge crush on Philip."
My eyes widen, suddenly it all makes sense to me, "Oh! I'm sorry, I had no idea-"
He holds out his hand, waving away my apology, "It's no trouble, I just thought everyone knew by now. I don't keep it a secret."
"Well, even if most people know, I'm still glad you told me.." I say softly, looking down at my drink. I'm reminded of when John came out to me, years ago- I'd been the first one John told.
Back then, I was insanely in love with John Laurens. We'd been friends for years, inseparable since birth, practically. I'd know him even before Hercules. He came to my house every day, after I explained to my dad John's horrid situation, and my dad then told John that he could always come stay with us, John had taken the offer. Most nights he just stayed with us, my mom- when she was alive- and I would go out with John and shop for new clothes. We'd even furnished a side of my room for him. So, needless to say, in spending every moment with him- I'd fallen head over heels for the boy. Well, at least I thought so.
My love for John, I know now, is something much deeper than that.
In middle school, John had spent the night, and something had compelled every bone in my body to kiss him. When I did though, it immediately felt wrong. It's not that I didn't want to kiss him, but I knew in that moment my love was nothing with romantic intent- not even a familial intent. It was in that same moment, that John blurted out to me that he was gay. He cried hard, and I sat silently for a moment, not in shock, but in heartbreak. I suddenly didn't care about my supposedly romantic feelings, I only wanted him to feel better. So I hugged him close and told him that it was alright, that he was alright, over and over. He'd thought he hurt me by confessing, but what he really did was make my love even deeper- our connection even stronger.
"Why?" Madison asks, breaking me out of my thoughts. His laughter is gone- he now sounds very surprised, I've shocked him. He's looking directly at me, I don't know if I've ever seen him break his coolness.
I smile softly, encouragingly, "Because you're willing to share a deep part of yourself with me…" I explain. I almost want to laugh at myself, inwardly, drunk me seems to think she's philosophical.
He seems to not think it's silly though, he looks rather touched. He sets a hand on my shoulder, "Thank you, Lyra. You're a good kid." he says, and I practically melt right there.
Line Break -
It's about two hours into the party when I trail outside. I walk along the edge of the wall, avoiding the largely encompassing waves that leave the pool as people jump into it from the roof. I see Hercules and smile in relief to find someone I know. I trail over, subtly reaching his side, hoping my excitement wasn't too evident.
"Hey Ly!" Hercules gets even louder and more enthusiastic when he's intoxicated. He grins at me big and wide, "Saw you with Mads, you must be mad excited."
I groan jokingly, "Ignoring the horrible joke- it was exciting." I agree, nodding, "He came out to me."
He booms with laughter, wiping tears from his eyes- apparently I'm just a comedic genius today. "You didn't know? Of course not, my poor kid, always out of the loop."
I frown, "Hercules you knew? How could you not tell me!" I whine.
His laughter dies, though he still grins, "Sorry, thought you knew- though now I realize you never do."
"I guess not." I agree with a shrug.
We continue to chatter, Hercules telling me a dramatic story about the hot tub sex he shared with Lafayette that eventually evolved into a few more people than originally planned. I am nodding, but my attentions lie elsewhere.
Across the yard, Hollie is speaking with someone- though she looks rather uncomfortable. Her long blonde hair is straightened, falling to her hips, she wears and over the shoulders, short, black, long sleeved dress, and a pair of black stilettos to match. The guy looks to be breathing down her neck, she's shrinking down in reaction. A sick feeling forms in my stomach.
When the guy reaches out to touch her, I'm done. Quickly, I grab onto Hercules arm like a child. He stops his story, glancing down at me with worry, he knows immediately something is up by my movement. I nod my head in the direction of Hollie. It takes Hercules a moment before he registers what I'm referencing.
He's quick, crossing the yard in seconds, throwing the guy aside effortlessly. It causes the attention in the yard to fall onto him. Hollie seems to shrink under the gazes, breaking into sobs. Hercules pulls a jacket over her shoulders, leading her away from the crowd and inside.
I watch after them worriedly, wondering if I should follow along, but I know that Hercules is best suited to handle the situation. Hercules is very maternal and always knows how to calm down a situation. I shift uncomfortably, getting up and heading back inside
Line Break -
I feel the most relaxed I've been all night, sitting by the wall and leaning against Lafayette. John sits behind me, stroking a hand through my hair. Hercules; back from taking care of Hollie for an hour or so; leans over across me to kiss Lafayette, which starts out gentle and develops into something much more passionate. I think I hear John laugh behind me- a little surprised at their forwardness in public. I knew Lafayette was open about his sexuality fluctuation, but I had no idea if Herc was doing his best to keep his own on the downlow- then I remember Hercules telling me about the orgy in the hot tub.
Lafayette turns to me, his face close. He looks to my lips, asking permission with his eyes. I nod, and kiss him back when his lips meet mine. Lafayette is the best kisser I know- he claims that all French men are good kissers- his contact comes with a lot of heat and passion, even if there isn't necessarily a passionate connection. But even if he has passion in the kiss, I notice his eyes still trailing away, looking over to Abella.
I pull away from him, looking to Herc who obviously noticed the same thing. Lafayette looks confused, "What is it? You two have ze look-"
"Just ignore them, Laf, hopefully they're drunk enough that they won't remember long enough to do anything about it." John says with a laugh, and Herc and I both give him fake looks of hurt.
"What we were thinking is we know who you really want to be kissing." Hercules explains, grinning from ear to ear.
Lafayette looks between Hercules and I, blushing. "I have no idea what you are talking about-"
Hercules and I just stare, frowning in obvious disbelief.
"Alright, perhaps I do know. However I do not wish to act on said feeling- Je vais faire un fou de moi-même." He rambles, glancing nervously at Abella as he speaks.
Abella seems exhausted, rushing around and attending to the needs of others. Jefferson is following her about, talking her ear off- though it looks as if he's doing it to be helpful, keep her from passing out.
Hercules leans over, whispering in Lafayette's ear. I frown slightly, looking between them. Lafayette looks nervous, but stands, moving toward Abella. I look at Hercules questioningly, he just winks and starts off in his own direction. John scoots out from behind me and I lean back against the wall, the two of us watching closely as events unfold.
Lafayette takes Abella's arm gently, spinning her around and pushing Jefferson out of the way gently. Jefferson looks a bit taken aback, his jaw falling to the floor when Lafayette dips Abella effortlessly and presses his lips to her. John and I both gasp, grabbing each other's arms in surprise at the action. The whole room seems to stop for a moment, eyes on them as if we're in the middle of a romantic comedy. I almost expect someone to clap.
Then Hercules does, wooing through hands cupped around his mouth. Lafayette finally ends the kiss and Abella looks completely breathless. He grins at her, "You look as if you need a break, mon minou." He tells her, "I think we can use a bit of a- how you say, remix." he then points to Hercules.
Hercules gives him a thumbs up and changes the song playing through the speakers to "Come On Eileen!". Abella still seems a little shocked, but she also relaxes her face brightening as Lafayette begins to dance with her. I feel a grin come onto my face, happiness swelling in my chest for them.
Other couples follow suit; Philip sweeps Emerson off her feet, a huge smile on his face as he sings along to the lyrics. Hercules moves from the speakers to take Hollie's hand gently, and she hesitantly follows as he leads her to the living room and now made dance floor. Marzia scampers over to John and I, nervously asking John to dance, he glances at me as if to ask if it's okay and I nod quickly, gesturing for him to go- and soon enough they've joined the others in dancing.
My heart feels warm, so thrilled to see them all having fun. My boys looking happy with no care in the world- it doesn't happen too often. I move closer to the wall, not wanting to interrupt the fun. Despite my happiness, I feel a bit of a pang in my chest, the familiar awareness of loneliness taking over me. I want to just be glad for them, but a selfish part of me is more concerned with being left behind by my best friends. I almost leave the room, already in the process of standing, but when I am fully straightened my face is only a centimeter away from Jefferson, who smiles down at me.
I am more than a little intimidated, but he looks a little sympathetic, "Lyra, what are you doing over here all by yourself?" he asks, and I wonder if he's teasing me.
I glance over at the dance floor, frowning slightly. The answer should be obvious, the two of us are against the wall, away from it all, for the same reasons.
"Well, do you want to dance?" he asks, and I'm a little surprised with how casual he is, holding out a hand to me.
I hesitate for a long moment, my eyes staring into his with an obvious lack of confidence.
He rolls his eyes, though only in a playful sense, "Come on, Lyra, I'm not going to bite you if you don't ask."
Normally, his comment would make me dark red, but my intoxication has me feeling bolder and I grab his hand, "Alright, and I'll let you know about the biting thing." I joke.
He laughs, and it's warm and genuine, pulling me into the crowd of dancing people. His hand entangled with mine, another on my hip, our bodies close as we move to the beat. I notice he glances at Abella, and I feel a twinge of guilt.
"I know you would rather be dancing with Abella." I apologize gently, "I'm sorry. But I am rooting against you, just a bit, considering my relations with Lafayette."
"You're this formal even when you're wasted?" Jefferson chuckles, "That's priceless. And don't worry, dancing with you is just fine."
"Are you flirting with me?" I ask, smiling slightly.
He spins me, pulling me close, our mouths almost brushing against each other, "Maybe." he smirks.
"Is it just going to be flirting all night or are we leading into something more?" I ask.
Jefferson keeps a hold on one of my hands, "Let's go." he replies simply, and normally I'd have an objection to the forwardness, but once again my not thinking straight gets the best of me and I let him lead me down the hall and to one of the empty rooms. Giving the minimalist and mature aesthetic of the room, I am fairly certain that it's Abella's parents room, I almost say something, but at this point I really don't care.
Jefferson sits on the bed, and I almost immediately begin stripping, leaving my skirt and stockings on as I move to crawl on top of him. Our mouths meet quick, and at first the kiss is passionate, his hand tangling in my hair. But something is being held back.
"Are you good with this?" I ask, feeling guilty for not asking before taking my top layers off, "We can stop."
He shakes his head, "No," he says quickly, "I want this." he pulls me back down for another kiss. His lips are softer this time, less nervous, but he pulls back after a moment.
Once again I try to help him through, "Are you sure you're alright? If you're worried about anyone knowing or something…-"
He pulls back from me completely, running a hand through his hair, "I… I'm sorry I can't. I-"
I move off of him, sitting next to him on the bed, "You don't have to worry about explaining yourself, I'm not upset or anything." I assure him.
"No-no… I need to get this off my chest." he says, his voice sounding uncharacteristically raw, "And if anyone is going to fucking understand.. it'll be little miss perfect- no offense."
"None taken…" my voice is soft, setting a hand over Jefferson's, "I'm here to listen."
"I… I just … I have never really feel sexual attraction.." he says, sounding on the verge of tears, "I know- I know that is so weird, I'm-I'm a dude- how do I not…?"
"So… you are asexual?" I ask, tilting my head.
"What? No- I'm not a plant, you don't need to make fun of me-"
I'm pained by the hurt tone, "No, no, hun, 'asexual' is just a term of sexual identity." I explain slowly, trying to help him understand, "All it means is you do not experience sexual attraction."
He raises an eyebrow, "That… that's a thing?" he asks, disbelieving.
I nod, "Yeah." I say gently, "There's different forms too- prefixes I should say. Graysexual- expriencre sexual attraction but very little and not very frequently. Demisexual, meaning it takes a connection to feel any form of sexual attraction. Asexual means no sexual attraction." I list them off one by one, and slowly to make sure he understands everything I say and can ask me questions if I wishes.
"I think I may be… the gray one…" he says slowly, "I've had sex once- with Madison awhile back- and I didn't hate it. I felt something with him, maybe.. just not romantically, does that make sense?" he explains.
I nod again, "I understand perfectly."
He's silent for a moment, before pulling me into a tight hug, "Thank you, Lyra. Don't tell anyone I said that, though, think I have a soft spot for you." and just like that he lets me go, returning to his silver tongue.
I smile brightly, "I'd never want that." I say teasingly.
"But really, thanks." he says, pulling out a bag of weed, rolling up a joint and holding it out to me, "You want a hit?"
Normally, I'd say no- but with the stress of school and my dad- "Yeah, sure. Nice reaction to finding out your sexuality, by the way."
"I prefer just being numb."
And I don't disagree.
Line Break -
After a long time of sitting beside Jefferson and just chatting away about stupid stuff, giggling like idiots every so often, I find myself stumbling out of the room. I really don't have that much of a grip on what is going on around me. I slide down against the nearest wall, taking a long breath, blissfully thinking about nothing.
"Seriously? This is your choice of seating?" Alexander. His voice is deep, obviously upset.
"If I stand, I am falling- most likely on top of you." I tell him simply.
He grumbles, but doesn't protest any further. It's once again back to my serenity within the quiet.
"You know, I'm surprised." Of course, the silence doesn't last long in the face of Alexander Hamilton.
"About?"
"You. Drinking and smoking and not caring. I thought you were a straight A student, never doing anything wrong." he comments, I can almost sense amusement in his tone- or maybe it's me who's amused.
"That's exactly why I do this." my voice is a little weak, suddenly filled with anxious thoughts, "To make the pressure to be perfect go away."
I expect him to laugh at me, but he nods once, "That makes sense." he can obviously sense my shock because he adds, "We all have our reasons for this life.."
"And yours is?"
"I need to prove myself; I'm capable, so I'm going to make myself known." he says coolly, then looks at me, "And yours is pressure to be perfect- why?"
"My dad is a huge politician, my appearance in the world matters a lot to his reputation- so I'm told." I answer, on the inside, I'm upset with myself slightly- why am I sharing this with him? "But it's more about myself and my own anxieties- I want- need to be perfect."
He nods again, "That's why. Perhaps I understand you a little better now."
It's silent between the two of us for a long while, I notice that his focus is no longer on the textbook, and he is occasionally glancing at me whenever he gets a chance. Finally, I meet his glance, holding eye contact with a small smile.
"Can I be honest?" I ask.
"Please. For once in your life." The words could be taken rudely, but he sounds more earnest, like he's desperate to hear my words.
"I'm not thinking too clearly, obviously. But.. you're looking nice tonight- you always look nice, and I would really, really-"
"Just do it." He interrupts.
And I thank a higher power for Alexander's abrupt personality as I quickly shove my lips against his. To no surprise for me, he's a good kisser, his attention fully placed in the kiss. He's non-stop, almost as if he's challenging me to see who has to pull away for a breath first- and much to my own discontent, it is myself.
I move onto his lap, determined to make him pull away first. And for who knows how long, it's just desparate making out between the two of us, as we grab and grind. I'm so caught up in the heat that I honestly don't remember what led us to end up in bed together.
Line Break -
I can physically feel my exhaustion when a door is shoved open, awaking me. In fact, I'm so tired that I can't even react to being jolted awake- not so much as an eye opening. But I don't have to look to recognize Hercules' voice, "Lyra!" he shouts.
There's a shift on the bed and then a voice speaking, "Sh, she's asleep." Alexander.
"You have her in bed with you!?" Hercules sounds like he's about to lose his head, "She's wasted, that's not consent-"
"She fell asleep before anything could even happen." Alexander assures him, voice calm, "We kissed and grinded a bit but that's as far as it went. She passed out in the middle of it so I took her to bed. I didn't want to leave her asleep and alone at a party so I stayed in here to watch her."
I feel my heart pound and my face heating up- surprised by his kindness- hadn't he expressed hatred of me only a few days ago? Sure, we kissed but that didn't mean our relationship changed- did it?
"Uh, thanks." Hercules replies after a long moment of silence, sounding a bit guilty for his accusations, "That's really cool of you."
"Don't mention it. Seriously. Please."
Hercules chuckled lightly, "Alright. I should get this one home." he says, lifting me up from the bed. He walks out of the room and whispers to me, "You heard every word."
A smile breaks on my face, nodding, "Yep." I manage to open my eyes, rubbing at them, "Where are John and Laf?"
Hercules smirks, "Laf decided that he was in good company with Abella and he'd stay." his smirk turns into a small smile, "John and Marzia went home a few hours ago, they were tired."
I smile myself, happy that my boys seem content, "And what about Hollie?"
"She drove home." he says simply, I watch him for a long moment and he grins, "But not before I kissed her."
"That's my boy."
Line Break -
Thanks so much for reading! 3
French translations:
* Dieu merci - Thank God
* Ceci est incroyable! Il semble encore mieux sur! Pouvez-vous croire que je suis en train de la fille de mes reves ce soir? - This is incredible! It looks even better on! Can you believe I'm getting the girl of my dreams tonight?
* Magnifique - Magnificent
* Ma petit Lyra! Tu apprends! - My little Lyra! You have learned!
* Juste un peu - Just a little.
* Je ai appris beaucoup plus. Essayex de vivre avec lui. - I learned much more. Try living with him.
* Il suffit de couper le souffle - Simply breathtaking.
* Mon minou - My kitty
* Je vais faire un fou de moi-même - I will make a fool of myself.