The beer was frothy and it wasn't until at least the end of the second or third cup that I began to feel spinny. It was nice — I was floaty and giddy but my feet were still firmly — kinda... — on the ground. No drunken stumbling for Bella! None yet, anyway.
Mike's party had been in full swing for awhile now. Long enough that there was a little property damage, a little nudity, and a whole lot of drunken girls grinding up against each other in front of the DJ — some senior with a backwards cap and a douche-y attitude who wouldn't play Sweet Home Alabama even though that song gets exponentially better the more drunk you are.
He was my nemesis now.
I wandered aimlessly through the house — five guys from Mike's team lived there pretty much on top of each other (including the Snack Food Samurai who had provided A+ chips and candy for the evening's festivities — who knew Twizzlers even had an expiration date?), and the party looked like everyone they had ever met had invited everyone they had ever met, and then gone driving around to pick up a couple of strangers to join them. It was like that every couple of weeks.
The frequency of Mike's parties was largely dependent on how quickly-slash-cheaply the aforementioned minor property damage could be fixed.
I turned down the hall and made my way into the main room. DJ Dickface was still spinning what sounded like the same three rap songs over and over and over. I was totally planning to somehow hook my iPod up to the sound system later when he went to take a leak.
I saw Pretty Boy across the lounge. He was sunk deep into a heavily stuff armed chair that has obviously been inherited from someone — it was covered in embroidered granny roses. The beer stains covering it were decidedly less grandma-like. I danced over with a big smile on my face, the beer was really my friend. Really, really. My teeth were beginning to hurt a little from all the smiling. I flopped down onto the armrest of his granny chair.
"Hi MC."
Pretty Boy grabbed my thigh and pulled me down into the chair with him. "Hey Duckling."
I landed mostly on his lap and swung my feet over the top of the opposite armrest. His face was flushed apple-red, and he was grinning and warm. I liked him smiley. I let my head fall back against his shoulder — lolling comfortably.
A couple of people were sitting around us, including Jess who was perched on the edge of a coffee table drinking some sort of very, very pink punch. It looked like Barbie had peed in her cup.
"You guys are so cute," she gushed.
I could feel myself turning pinker than her drink, and I took a gulp of beer — trying to hide my face behind the cup.
"You are," she insisted. "Aren't they?"
The girl to her right agreed emphatically. "You guys would have the best babies. Oh-my-god, people would want to, like, buy them."
I tried to free myself from Pretty Boy's lap, as he burst out laughing and escape for more beer but he kept hold of a handful of the back of my shirt — keeping me where I was.
I craned my neck to see him. "Need more beer."
He pouted and the sudden, violent — probably beer-fuelled — urge to lick his bottom lip rose up inside me. "You're keeping my legs warm," he argued.
I shook my empty cup at him. "Thirsty."
He handed me his beer. It was in a bottle. It looked a lot nicer than the crap I had been drinking. "Compromise?"
"Where'd you get this?"
"I earned it — I listened to Mike talk about college football for half-an-hour while you were in the queue for the bathroom."
I was about to reply when a guy pushed his way into our circle with a dinner plate covered in orange-y looking shots. My nose instantly detected my monstrous foe — tequila. There was a carton of salt and some sorry looking withered lemon slices on the side of the plate. Someone keen had clearly cut them up before the party started... maybe before the semester started.
Pretty Boy's arm slid around my waist as he pulled himself up to sit straighter in the chair. I fell more securely into his lap, his hand anchoring my stomach. I flushed from there right up to my cheeks all over again.
I scrunched up my face at the shots. "Hello, liquid degradation!"
"Come on, B. You have to do at least one shot!" Jess was an enabler. "It's not a party if you don't do shots!"
I stuck my tongue out at her. "You said that about the funnel. The funnel was evil. The shop assistant who enabled the awful life-choices that followed you purchasing said funnel, and three yards of rubber tubing, and an inflatable mattress was an asshole."
She leaned across to pick up a shot. "You were the one who decided to ride it down the stairs."
"And it would have been awesome... if the house didn't have walls," my argument trailed off.
I looked up at the guy with the plate. His name was Ben, and he was sort-of friends with Edward... at least, they had classes together and didn't hate each other. Good enough for me. I turned my head backwards too quickly and almost smacked my face into Pretty Boy's.
"Fine," I replied to Jess. "But you have to submit to peer pressure too, MC." I elbowed him lightly in the ribs, at least I meant it to be light — my elbow-eye coordination was somewhat lacking.
He grinned. "You're peer-pressuring me into submitting to peer-pressure?"
"Yes." I took a shot for myself and handed one back to him.
The girl next to Jess whose name I had never been able to remember grabbed one too, and Ben, and a couple of guys in baggy jeans who gravitated towards us as soon as the dinner plate landed. Ben counted down and I threw the foul smelling liquid down my throat, trying not to choke.
I was very aware that throwing up then and there would mean throwing up on Pretty Boy. I still had some dignity left and I was planning to cling to it like a fat kid to a vending machine.
Our group fell into a good rhythm of drinks, delegating people to retrieve snacks (never me, I am aces at avoiding movement when lazy. Also never Pretty Boy because I was still on top of him), and loudly mocking people who were out of hearing range.
Eventually I needed to pee again and I went on an arduous quest for a clean bathroom. I could smell the puke from the main restroom before I even got near that end of the hall, there was also a line outside that made me think maybe it was secretly Narnia... or a Justin Timberlake concert was going on in there. I avoided joining the line out of sheer curiosity and snuck upstairs.
What I mean by 'snuck' is 'tripped violently over a semi-naked couple and then proceeded the rest of the way on my hands and feet until I hit level ground again'.
It took a couple of tries but eventually I hit the jackpot... en suite! Okay, so it was a college guy's en suite which invariably meant suspicious hair in the shower drain, sports socks on the floor in the corner and every square inch of tiling covered in used toothpaste... but it was vomit free. My standards just so happened to lie at vomit free.
Even in my inebriated state I managed to pee without actually touching anything. I took my chances with the liquid soap, and made my way back out into the main bedroom.
"Hey."
"Hi."
Pretty Boy was sitting on the edge of the queen-sized bed. He gave me a little wave and took a swig of his beer before setting it on the side table.
"Were you listening to me pee?"
He burst out laughing, and I moved to sit beside him — I backhanded his upper arm as hard as I could. "Urgh, perv."
"You are so weird. So weird, Duckling. I wasn't fucking listening to you pee. I was trying to find you — I'm bored, it's really noisy downstairs, and some dick keeps trying to cook a mouldy quiche in the oven. Every time he turns away his girlfriend turns the oven off, then he realizes it's not cooking and turns it on, et cetera."
I shrugged. "You wanna go?"
He shook his head. "Just wanna hang out with you."
"Cool. Hey, did you see —" I stopped, startled, as Pretty Boy suddenly turned toward me, leaning forward. The room was mostly dark — just the light I'd left on in the bathroom shone an orange-y glow into the room. The door had fallen closed and the sounds downstairs were muffled as though they were a million miles away.
Were were alone, and I thought I might have a heart attack.
My gaze was drawn to his lips. My eyelids felt heavy, the room was hot, and humid, and all I could focus on was his incredible smell and the feel of his hand stroking my arm up and down in hypnotizing lengths. I blinked, and we were eye to eye. I could feel his breath against my mouth. My face was tipping forward, upward, without my permission.
Pretty Boy leaned closer. I felt feverish and hot like my skin was too tight. My breath caught and held. His bottom lip glistened where he had licked it. His hand lifted toward my face; his fingers lightly brushing my cheek. His lips parted and I let my eyes fall closed.
They snapped open again at the sound of his voice: "Eyelash."
"Wha—?"
I looked down and saw a stray eyelash precariously balanced on the tip of his pointer finger, right in front of my face. I felt sick. I let my breath out in a rush — I hadn't even realized I was still holding it — and it blew the thing away.
Pretty Boy seemed completely oblivious to my embarrassment and devastation. "Did you make a wish?"
"They don't come true," I mumbled.
He laughed. "Such a cynic. You need a rocking chair and a shotgun so you can scare the neighbor kids."
I tried to smile but my stomach suddenly felt too heavy. I jumped up off the edge of the bed and attempted to shake off my pathetic, and quell the creepy thoughts I was having about Pretty Boy's person. The boy didn't have pores, and up close his eyes were like deep, green kaleidoscopes — full of pretty shapes and colors. I swallowed hard, trying on my poker face.
"Come on, I need to scavenge. My carb stores are seriously depleting!"
His face scrunched up the tiniest bit as he took in my expression, and then his whole face smoothed out. He smiled — a small, wry thing capped off with an eye roll. "Sure you do. Don't worry, Ducking, I saw Ty stashing some Hershey's bars in the fridge earlier."
AN: Hello lovelies, as always thank you so much for sticking with me. To say an extra thank you, everyone who reviews will get a little snippet from the next chapter. Just make sure you're signed in so I can reply! If you don't want a teaser just say so. :)
