Chapter 10: If you're Lucky

Rich: I can't come tonight

Jade: uh why? Are you dying or something?

Rich: Kind of. Family dinner

Rich: Can't get out of it x

Jade: pfft. Send me updates of how shit it is.

Jade: And tomorrow night, if you're lucky… you know.

Jade: Rich?

Lots of people say that you notice your loneliness and can embrace it when you're alone at the cinema or dining solo, but you notice your loneliness a lot when you're perched on a step outside a nightclub in the cold whilst also being drunk. I don't think I'm really embracing it now either.

Everyone will probably think I've snapped or something. I mean, I'm a nice person! I know I am, I try to be so fucking hard that I never have a go at people and now I've yelled at Mini, a girl I barely know and has been actually nice to me, and Rich… It's not his fault that I have a crush on him.

My mind might be freezing over right now; because I left my coat somewhere inside the club and obviously I can't go back in there. It's only been five minutes, but I may have pneumonia. I don't know why I'm sitting here, maybe a mixture of crying and hoping.

"Grace!" Yes, that's what a small part of me was hoping for. Best friends always chase the other out of places, they're the ones who will take care of you when nobody else will, and dare I say it, hold your hair back when you puke? Well, I've held his before.

"Richie," I barely murmur, rubbing at my tear stained cheeks as I see him literally running across the street towards me. Yes, I managed to cross the street in my semi-angry, fully-drunk state and find a decent - in terms of hygiene – step to sit on. He comes to a halt as he reaches the stairs, forcing me to look up at him. To my surprise a small smirk is forming on his face, as if I'm being myself and not currently in a pool of tears.

"Ugh… So you're still being horrible to me then?" He's referring to his nickname and he's joking, but it's hitting too close to home – it's true. I stare up for a while, biting down hard on my bottom lip as I try to suppress the guilt, but he simply shakes his head at my expression, taking the spot next to me.

For a second I think he's putting his arm around me, but he is in actuality wrapping my coat around my shoulders. At least it's my coat he's putting over me this time instead of his.

"I haven't been that horrible, have I, Richie?" He laughs slightly, but I still stare hopelessly at him – needing him to say I hadn't been, even if we both knew I had.

"Well… this is the calmest you've been all night." He's taking the piss out of me. Even now. I guess it's making me a mixture of annoyed and sad and maybe happy that he's not holding this against me.

"Well… I did say I didn't want to spend time with you anymore." I say carefully, staring at my hands to avoid looking at him. He grows silent for a while and I worry he'll take my words literally and leave me here.

"Because we're not friends anymore? Yeah… I guess I shouldn't have come." Usually when Rich speaks I can tell whether he's smirking or not – this time he is deadly serious.

"Why did you?" I finally look back up, all my anger for this boy subsiding, wanting nothing more than to rest my head against his shoulder and stop my drunky head from spinning. It's that hope again… It makes my feelings for him stronger – hope that he'll come running to my side and now hope that he'll tell me he's here for me and, I don't know, wants to be with me.

"Blame Alo." He replies finally, stifling a short laugh. I furrow my eyebrows at this, I thought Alo was just surprised as me by Rich's arrival, but then again I've been drunk for most of the night (or early morning now) so everything's been a tad blurry.

"Where's your new besties then?" Rich asks, leaning in and talking in a girly voice.

"Ha," I mutter shortly, remembering how I argued with her all for his sake. Alcohol is the best cure for liars, that's what my Dad always says when he says he doesn't want a drink with his meal. Then my parents laugh, I guess I finally get that 'joke'.

"They might have left… I argued with Mini after she was actually horrible about you."

He doesn't say anything. I don't know if he even visually reacts to this news, because I am now resting my head on his shoulder. I don't want to move.

"All right, you drunk, let's get you in a taxi." I sit up confused, wondering why this sounds like a bad idea. Oh right…. Taxi to home, home means parents and parents mean trouble.

"I can't," I whine more loudly than I anticipated. "I was supposed to be having a sleepover with Mini and Liv. A really cute sleepover with fluffy pillows."

I drift off, now only being able to think of fluffy pillows and deep sleep. Rich stands up, pulling on my arm softly, but with great command.

"Fine… You can crash at mine."

I continue to let him pull me up, but of course I'm completely stunned by how simply he states that. He knows how I feel about him and there is no sign on his face that it might make him at all uncomfortable. He's basically said it like we're normal right now… I wish we were. I wish I hadn't said anything, because this… this friendship and everything it comes with is so much better than him knowing the truth or anything more between us.

As I stand up properly, I clasp onto his hand tighter, swinging his arm slightly as we walk towards the road to, presumably, hail for a cab. I swing a little too violently and knock myself in the eye with my hand.

"AHH!" I shout pointlessly, stopping to rub at my face, which knocks my balance a little bit off centre and so I can feel myself beginning to sway. Rich comes to my rescue once more by placing a steadying arm around my shoulders.

"I have never, ever seen you this drunk before."

"No, no, no, Richie, I don't drink that often." I argue, which he snorts loudly at.

"Uh yeah. So I've never seen you this drunk before."

"Yes," I agree, feeling more confused than I would like to admit at this moment in time.

"Okay, Blood, let's get you in this cab. It's the stationary vehicle right in front of us." He says all this very slowly and all I can gather from it is that he's making fun of my current state.

"SHHH…" I say, louder than I actually wanted to do, which results in him stepping away from me in, probably, fear that I am going to next hit him violently to match the way I just spoke to him. A few seconds pass and I think we travel back into a safetyzone, or I start swaying too much again, for he steps closer once more to open the door with one hand and steady me with the other. I slide/fall into the seat and greet the driver in a far more jovial manner than currently describes my mood.

"Good morning sir, I've had a wonderful evening, how about yourself?" I lean towards the front, smiling up at him. He gives me a sour look for what feels like an eternity before turning to look at Rich, who is sitting right next to me.

"Extra ten pounds if she throws up."

"Thank you for your services, it's been ever so jolly."

"Ugh, Grace, just shut up already." I am about to protest loudly at this with my main source of argument being that the driver has been enjoying my conversation for the past ten minutes, but the next sentence out of the driver's mouth kind of shoots down my response.

"Yes, please." How very, very rude! I was absolutely positive he enjoyed my debate on why acapella singing is still underrated despite the usage of it in things like Glee. Rich didn't, but I had never expected him to.

"Right, there's your money." Rich states blandly, opening the passenger and beginning to pull on my arm once more, but I am trying to lean in closer to the driver, who I found out is called Pavin, to leave him with some scathing words.

"I think you're a Slytherin, because you're just here accepting money from us poor innocent -,"

"Grace!" Rich has reached that kind of level of annoyed that I don't want to argue with, even in my drunk state.

"Okay," I say in a small voice as I follow him out of the cab to walk towards his house. I've been here so many times over the years; they were mainly for uninvited visits like when Franky and I discovered him and Alo had planned a boys only sleepover.

The walk towards the house is torturous, I am both so aware of my surroundings and yet so not aware at the same time. I can only hear my high heels in this silence and also of course the whining of a few lonely cats. Rich keeps hold of me the whole time, even when he needs to open his front door with his key. He has a terrible door that makes it nearly always impossible to open.

"For fucksake," He swears, as he fails with each turn to open said door.

"Pull the door more towards you," I say, beginning to rest my eyes by closing them and then resting my head by leaning on his arm for a one-sided cuddle.

"Geroff," He says, clearly annoyed that I give him the piece of advice that results in the opening of the door.

"I WONDER WHY I DIDN'T SEE IT THERE BEFORE!" Oh goodness, why did I just sing? And so loudly? And those lyrics? Yes, brilliant idea to sing the song I was singing to take my mind off Rich earlier in front of him.

"Jesus fucking Christ on a stick, Grace." He mutters, before covering my mouth with one of his hands. I squeak out an apology before attempting to remove my shoes by the door. He sighs and continues to mutter curse words under his breath. It makes me feel slightly guilty. His poor parents might have been woken up by that.

"You go up first and I'll follow." I whisper quite loudly, preparing myself for the beyond torturous crawl up the stairs, but the thought of comfy pillows motivates me greatly.

Once we reach his room there's an awkward silence as we both stare at his double bed. When it's gotten too long, I turn to look up at him.

"Right," He states, obviously sensing my stare. "You sleep there, I'll sleep on the floor."

"Rich… Don't be silly, you sleep under and I'll be over."

"What?"

"Or tops and tails?

"Sure, sure." I fall to a sitting position on his bed, as he removes his jacket and leaves it on the space next to me. He looks like he's about to take off his shirt as well, but stops himself. Instead he starts walking off towards his bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" He lets out a loud sigh.

"Dental hygiene."

I sigh. His bed is much comfier than I remember, I take this opportunity of solitude to make snow angels on his bed which is so much fun I giggle out loud. It vibrates when I do that as well. Oh, wait, that's not right. Snow angels don't cause vibrations. It must be my phone, but it never does that. OH, OH, Rich! Maybe it's Alopops!

I sit up to rummage through his leather jacket pockets before eventually finding it in the right hand side one.

Oh. No. Not. Alo.

I shouldn't have done that. She's not sick and Rich… well, I don't know if he didn't have a family dinner, but if he did then why would he lie about that to us? I bet on all the kittens in the world that Alo never invited him to come out with us either. I remember (vaguely, but I remember) Alo greeting Rich by saying that he hadn't expected him, or something along those lines. Ugh, nobody should try remember things when drunk, because it causes headaches. It now feels like a pink elephant is jumping on my head.

A shuffling noise in the hallway causes me to hurriedly place Rich's mobile back into his jacket pocket, so that I can look like I've just been sitting and waiting for his return.

"Hi," I say slowly and softly, giving him my best innocent smile. He gives me a slightly bemused expression before smiling back at me. He walks over to give me a glass filled with some sort of liquid.

"Why are you giving me vodka?" I ask, jumping to probably the far less logical conclusion.

"It's water, stupid." He practically grunts, any sense of bemusement gone from him. "And here's a bucket so that you don't vomit all over my Napalm Death bedsheets."

"Oh, okay."

I take a sip and for some reason all the silence in just those few moments seem to build up on me. I can feel my sadness that I've buried begin to build up and some sort of truth vomit is rising in my throat. I can't pretend anymore that we're just friends. Well, we are, or we should be, but I need to make sure we can be normal now. I need to know he doesn't hold that conversation against me.

"I saw your phone. I know she's not sick. Why did you come?" It's weird how croaky my voice has gotten, like I'm already getting emotional and he hasn't even answered that big, looming question yet. What do I think his answer is going to be? That he loves me and that's why he had to come tonight? That he's been trying to talk to me about what I said because he wants to make sure I know that he doesn't feel the same way about me? The latter.

"Grace, about Thursday –," He doesn't even seem to care that I read his phone. Normally he freaks out at anyone looking at his phone even though the worst we'll usually find are messages from his mum saying he needs to pick up milk on his way home from school.

"Please. I never want to talk about it again. I should have never said anything, I just want to be your friend again. Please?" I sound more pleading ever I ever intended and I can't even explain how weird my throat feels, as if I am either going to begin to cry in a very guttural way or that alcohol is rising upwards.

It feels like I'm waiting for a reply for an eternity. The silence is heavy over us as we sit opposite each other on his bed. The more I think about the possible answers to my pleading, the more I expect the worst and thus the more I start to cry. He's probably just helping me out tonight because I'm drunk and he's a nice person… the nicest person, like I told Mini. Oh no, now I'm getting flashbacks to that conversation as well. Make that two pink elephants jumping on my head now.

"I'm not sure I can be." He says, looking up at me. He must see the hurt in my eyes, for he quickly shakes his head and attempts to resurrect the situation. "Not because I can't forgive you or whatever for it."

"What? What do you mean?" I am trying to hold back the disgusting taste in my mouth. I need to hear these words more than anything else.

"Because," His hand edges closer to my face and I can feel my whole body tingle in anticipation. As his fingers move to tuck some hair behind my ear however, I realize it was my body tingling in anticipation for this next movement. His face is nearing closer to mine and just as I tilt my head in the opposite direction to his, I can't hold it back anymore.

"BUCKET!"

A/N: ALOHA, hope you all enjoyed and thanks for the tremendous number of reviews for the last chapter! Hope you keep up that feedback till the very end which we are fast approaching! What you can expect from the next chapter: Hardbeck parents, Blood parents and apologies. XXXX