The glowing ball of orange in the sky was setting softly, even though it was only five o'clock, projecting a warm and comfortable atmosphere over the town of Greenock. Hoards of students from the local schools and sixth forms were still making their way home exhaustedly after a long day, eagerly imagining the endless cups of tea they can drink while watching repeats of The Jeremy Kyle Show. Connor was walking along the promenade, remembering with a pang that this was where Imogen saw him struggling to drive his drunken mother home after their first day at Waterloo Road. He came here sometimes to clear his head; the crashing of the waves relaxed him, took his mind of things and it was like he alone, alone without a single trouble. He wondered whether he attracted bad luck – he was sure everything would be okay once his mum stopped drinking, but instead he felt as if his problems had intensified. The one thing that kept him sane had been taken away from him, and every day was a struggle, especially now he didn't even have Imogen to confide in. The freezing air from the sea was making itself known now, so Connor buttoned up his coat and sat down carelessly on one of the empty benches. He pulled out his phone, unlocking the screen and making a mental note to change his background picture which was still him and Imogen. Opening the Facebook app, he read the most recent statuses.

Rhiannon Salt: On my way to see my brother for the first time in years!

3 likes, 2 comments:

Scout: Good luck, you better tell him I think he's fit.

Rhiannon: I already said he's way out of your league.

Connor rolled his eyes at the comments, but deep down he was happy for Rhiannon. He knew the importance of family more than anyone, and he couldn't understand anyone who didn't appreciate theirs.

Imogen Stewart: I seriously need to get out of this house before I kill my mother.

5 likes, 1 comment:

Dynasty: Check your inboxes, babe.

Sure enough, the moment Connor read the comment, his notifications flashed to tell him he too had an inbox. He tapped it and brought up the message from Dynasty.

Dynasty: I've got a free house tonight and I'm having a few people round. Fancy it?

Connor: Maybe. Imogen will be there, won't she? I don't want to ruin her night by making things awkward.

Dynasty: She said she's coming, yeah. There'll be other people there though; you don't even have to speak to her if you don't want to. You're staying friends aren't you?

Connor: We are yeah, but we've only just split up. I'll probably come. What time?

Dynasty: Everyone will be getting here for 7ish, it will just finish whenever. You can crash here if you like. Do you know where I live?

Connor: Okay and no, but I'll meet Kev on the way and he can show me. See ya later.

In a way, he was glad for the offer. It was something to take his mind of everything, and even though Imogen being there was going to be a constant reminder, maybe he could use it to his advantage and try and win her back, hopefully without embarrassing himself in the process. Grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, he quickly walked home and changed into some black skinny jeans and a t-shirt, donning his usual trademark cardigan. He was trying to pass the time by watching telly when his mum entered.

"Going out?" she asked, hoping for some actual conversation out of him rather than the grunts and nods she had been getting lately.

"I'm going to Dynasty's. She's having a few people round."

"Oh yeah, what's the occasion?"

"Nothing, her mum is in Liverpool visiting family or something."

Christine knew what was really going on, she wasn't daft – she'd been a teenager once. "So it's a party then?"

"I don't know! Is this twenty questions or something?" Connor said, agitatedly. He stood up and made his way to the door. "I'm going."

"Wait. I'm trying to talk to you!"

He backtracked reluctantly, sitting back down on the sofa, trying his hardest to look as uninterested as possible. "What?"

"You sorted it with Kevin, then?"

"Yeah." Connor was unsure why he was being so un-cooperative. His mum had done nothing wrong except trying to be there for him. He supposed that after all these years; he was just struggling to adjust to her being nice and supportive. "Can I go now?"

Not wanting this to escalate into a full blown argument, she nodded and watched him leave, before shouting a final "Don't be in too late, Connor!"

X

Connor and Kevin met near the off-license at 7, and began walking through the chilly night air to the Barry's house.

"What are you drinking?" Kevin asked Connor, while texting on his phone.

It was always the part he dreaded about parties, not that he went to many; the peer pressure to drink. He swore he wouldn't because he knew all too well how alcohol can destroy lives, but his decision always made him the outcast. "I'm not. I don't drink."

"Come on, mate. You can have a couple. If you're worried about what your mum would say Dynasty has already said we can crash at hers. I've got a bottle of vodka in my bag if you wanna share that. Anyway, I'm sure you were the one that fell of his chair in Clarkson's lesson because he was so drunk!"

Kevin didn't know it, but drinking that day was a last-ditch, desperate attempt to make Christine see how much her alcoholism was affecting him. It resulted in nothing but a headache, and an angry confrontation when they got home. She asked him what he thought he was playing at and he calmly explained to her that he was just following her motherly example. That well and truly shut her up, but, of course, it didn't stop her from drinking. The two teenagers realised they'd made it to the Barry's as soon as they heard the dance music blaring, wildly. Dynasty greeted Connor with a smile and told him to go in and make himself at home, before throwing her arms around Kevin, pulling him into a tight hug. Connor chuckled. He couldn't imagine them together, but paradoxically, they suited each other immensely.

Kacey Barry was in the kitchen by herself, looking annoyed. She grabbed a paper cup; poured god knows what into it and shoved it into Connor's hands. "They would only let me stay if I gave everyone drinks for the first hour, reckon I'm too young for a house party." Her tone was full of friendly sibling resentment, the kind that sounded serious but never actually was. "Drinks are on us, by the way, get whatever you want… Barry was owed a favour."

Without thinking, he accepted the drink and gulped the contents down. The alcohol affected him straight away, gushing cosily through his body, leaving him with a tingling feeling at the back of his head. He automatically grabbed a bottle of vodka and filled his cup halfway, and then drowning it in diet coke. "Cheers, where is everyone?"

She pointed towards what he could only assume was the living room, and Connor inquisitively entered, scanning the room immediately for Imogen. All the furniture had been moved to create a homemade dance-floor which was currently full of rambunctious, tipsy teenagers; some of which he recognised, others who were absolute strangers. He felt awkwardly out of place, not really knowing which group to tag along with. Luckily, or unluckily for him, Imogen sought him out, nervously.

"Hey." she shouted, fighting to be heard over the music and the rabble of people. "I thought you didn't drink."

"I don't normally, but… why not?" he smiled friendlily, but he absolutely hated the awkward tension between himself and the girl he loved, the person he was once closest to.

"Be careful, it'll go straight to your head."

"Since when were you an expert?" It came out a bit more snappily than Connor had intended.

"I'm just saying. I bet your mum won't be too happy." Imogen was trying really hard to make nice, normal conversation but when two people who love each other are purposely trying to stay away from each other, things naturally get difficult. Before Connor could reply, Imogen went back into the kitchen.

The night passed quite swiftly, with the drinks flowing merrily and thankfully, no trouble breaking out. Connor was by himself most of the night, with the exception of a couple of forced conversations with drunken girls from different schools trying to chat him up. He had no interest in them, whatsoever, until he noticed a tipsy-looking Imogen dancing flirtatiously with Jack McAllister. Seething jealously, he stormed into the kitchen to refill his drink.

"What's up, lad?"

Connor would never have classed Barry Barry as a mate, but due to having consumed a lot of strong vodka that night, he struck up conversation with him. "Girls."

Barry, who was drinking whisky straight from the bottle, rested his weight on the table next to Connor. "Imogen?" he asked, sensing an opportunity.

"She's not even bothered is she? You should have seen her, throwing herself at Jack." He put his drink on the table. "I'm going to go and say something."

"Whoa, whoa, mate, you don't want to do anything you'll regret in the morning. Just calm down, I'll have a word with her."

In his intoxicated state, Connor thought this was the best idea in the world. For some reason, he forgot all about the fact that only a couple of months ago, the Liverpudlian bad-boy had tried to blackmail his mum. "What will you say?"

"You just leave it to me, lad. I'll sort everything out for you, don't worry." Barry's eyes lit up with a mischievous, trouble-making glint. He would sort it out. Oh, was he going to sort it out…