Hey, thanks for the reviews! I know I suck at updating but here's chapter 5
Maren
I stand looking into the mirror in my bedroom. I usually don't put a lot of effort into my appearance, not doing much with my hair and throwing on whatever is comfortable. Tonight though, I look different. My straightened hair flows down past my shoulders and I actually put some eyeliner and mascara on, having found it earlier in the deep recesses of my drawer. Marina told Riley and I that we had to come to this party she got invited to. Most times, I like to stay away from everything like that, it makes it easier to stay focused on my school work and sports and stuff. But, Marina seemed pretty insistent on my going, so here I am, standing up dressed in a nice shirt and jeans, one of the more glamorous outfits I own, which isn't saying much considering my closet mostly consists of sweaters and t shirts. Oh well, she can't say I didn't try.
I glare at myself in the mirror for a second before grabbing my phone and leaving the room with a sigh. Mom is working tonight, which I'm happy for since I don't have to worry about her asking about my sudden change in style. I didn't hide the party from her, she probably would've found out anyway, and besides, she sounded kind of proud when I told her I was going, like sending me off to a house full of booze and high school students is a milestone in my life.
I get out to the porch and shove on a pair on converse sneakers and a jacket, I head out and lock the door behind me. Riley's van is already in the driveway, she offered to be the designated driver so me and Marina could "live a little" in her words. She doesn't see me coming, looking down at her phone instead, probably still trying to persuade Marina to let her get out of going. Riley was more than happy to pick us up, but she doesn't actually want to be there. I walk up to the drivers side while she's still looking down, and pound on the window, hard. She doesn't jump, merely raising an eyebrow as she shakes her head at my attempt to scare her. She doesn't even look up from her phone. Riley doesn't scare easily, not for my lack of trying though.
"That attempt was sad." She puts up her phone as I open the passenger side door.
"I thought it would work." I shrug, sliding into the seat. I hook up my seatbelt and she backs out of the driveway. "Who were you texting just then?"
"Marina. She's still very insistent that I go." She rolls her eyes and I smirk at her.
"You better go. If I'm suffering through this, you are too."
"That's cute, you think you're going to be suffering at the party." She shakes her head. "Wait until the morning. Then you'll be suffering." I glare at her and she laughs, her mood turning around easily. She gets onto the road and presses a little too heavily on the gas, pushing me back against the seat.
"I'm not even going to drink that much." I reply as I straighten back up in the seat.
She looks at me doubtfully "That's what you think." I roll my eyes, she studies me for a second before saying. "You look nice." I glare at her, and she puts up one of hands in a surrendering gesture. "That's all I'm gonna say okay? God."
. . .
My eyes widen as I take in the house in front of me. It is massive, with at least two stories and what must me ten huge windows, or are those balcony doors? It's hard to tell. It looks like something a reality TV star would live in.
"Who's house is this?" I gape, barely able to take my eyes off it to look at Marina.
"Um, I don't know." She breaths, the same awe on her face that I assume is on mine as well. We take a second just standing outside the van, admiring the house from a distance.
"Well this has been fun, call me when you're ready." Riley says quickly, starting to walk back over to the drivers side door. She doesn't get far before Marina grabs her arm.
"You're coming." She orders. Riley sighs but doesn't object, probably aware that it's useless.
Three of us slowly make our way up the stone path, and my head is on a constant swivel as I take in the bulk and elaborate structure of the house. I can already hear the music coming through the heavy oak door, that also looks expensive as hell. I reach forward and press on the overly decorated doorbell. Seriously, who needs gold trim around a button? We wait for a few seconds, but nobody answers.
"They probably didn't hear it." Riley says, reaching forward and aggressively clicking the doorbell multiple times.
"Eager to get in?" I ask smirking.
"I'm just eager to see you drunk." She laughs. "Twenty bucks says she passes out in the van." She says to Marina, who laughs.
"Twenty bucks says she'll pass out before we get her in the van." Marina snorts. Why are they so sure I'm going to get loaded?
Before I can defend myself, the door swings open, making the muffled music clear and loud. A skinny guy stands in the doorway, I don't recognize him, I'm not even sure he goes to our school. He doesn't say anything and just walks away leaving the door open for us to walk in. I look to Marina for an idea of what to do, I don't know if someone opening the door, then leaving, is exactly permission to come in. Riley however, doesn't hesitate before walking past us and into the now empty doorway. Marina gives me a questioning look and I just shrug, following Riley into the house.
The inside is just as elaborate as the exterior, smooth creme coloured carpet littered in expensive looking modern couches and tables. There are two huge speakers perched on top of a stone mantle, busting out music at an impossible level. I can see people dancing in what must be the living room, and I can already smell the alcohol from here, although it doesn't even look like the party is in full swing yet.
"I'm going to go wait in the kitchen. Come get me when you're done." Riley yells over the music and starts to walk away, but Marina grabs her arm.
"If you really don't want to stay, we can go." Marina's tone is kind, although it's hard to tell because she has to yell it.
Riley rolls her eyes, but she makes it look friendly. "Don't worry about me, I'll be happy enough as soon as I get some chips." She smiles. "Now go drink something." She waves before walking inside the kitchen which I can see from here.
Marina looks at me and shrugs. So we go into the crowd.
. . .
I stand in the corner holding a red cup in my hand. A friend of Marina's got it for me a while ago. I don't know what it is, but it's brown and tastes terrible. Marina met up with this guy nearly five minutes after we got through the door, and I tagged along with them for a while, but quickly felt like I was the third wheel, even though Marina was doing everything she could to include me. Really, I wasn't even being left out, the boy was very friendly and smiley (a little too happy for my taste but whatever), and it didn't take long to get to know him, but I still felt like I needed to go. I feel like there's something going on between those two, whether they know it or not.
I've had about three drinks since I got here, nothing major, but enough to make my head a little fuzzy. I hate the taste of it but I drink it anyway. That's what you're supposed to do at parties, right?
I'm about to go check on Riley in the kitchen when I hear someone call my name. I listen closer but it's hard to hear anything over the music. It's a high possibility that I heard something that just sounded like my name. I go back to staring in my cup.
"Maren?" Okay, I definitely heard it. I look around but by now, the voice is right in front of me. I'm met with deep blue eyes and shaggy blond hair. John.
"Oh, hey." I greet him, a friendly tone coming across easily. It might be because I don't actually hate John, but it could also be because of the alcohol in my system.
"I didn't expect to see you here." He says.
"Why not?" I question him.
Suddenly he looks sheepish and he strains to from a response, his lips parted with nothing coming out, probably thinking I'm angry by his question. I smirk at his expression.
"Well, I guess I wouldn't really peg you to be the party type." He finally gets out, smiling sheepishly.
"Because I'm usually serious?"
He shakes his head. "Because you're sensible." Without thinking, I laugh at that. If he only knew the things I've gotten myself into because I was the exact opposite of sensible, he would not be saying that.
"So are you." I retort, not like there was an argument in the first place. The corner of John's mouth quirks up in a small smile, making me think my statement might not be so true either.
"What are you drinking?" He asks, ignoring my statement.
"Your guess is as good as mine." I pass him the cup and he looks at the contents for a second before shaking his head.
"That stuff is gross. Come on, I'll get you something better." He leads me into the kitchen and opens the fridge. Riley's gone, but there is a bowl of chips on the counter that I'm pretty sure was in the living room at one point.
I hear a fizz and John presses something cold into my hand, I look down to see a beer. "It's not good, but it's better than what you had." I take a sip. He's right, it does taste better. I notice he didn't get one for himself and arch an eyebrow at his empty hand.
"Designated driver." He explains.
"Oh." I say, looking down at the bottle in my hand. For some reason, it feels awkward to be the only one drinking while talking to him. "Well, my friend can give you a ride home." I suggest.
"Really?" He looks skeptical.
"Yeah, she doesn't drink. She was supposed to be in here but I guess she left. Anyway, she's around here..." I look around. "somewhere."
He shrugs, seeming to accept this answer. "Good enough for me." He grins easily. He has a nice smile. He turns around and grabs a beer out of the fridge. "Alright, lead the way."
. . .
"John." I yell over the music. I laugh as I realize he's standing right next to me so I didn't need to raise my voice that much.
"Yeah?" He asks.
"My cup is empty." I shake my cup in front of his face, grinning when he leans away from it. I don't remember the point when I got a cup instead of the beer, but here it is. John catches my arm with his hand that's not holding his beer, and steadies it so he can look inside the cup.
"No it's half full, with... what is that? Vodka?" His eyebrows furrow and he looks at me with what looks like concern. What? Why would he be worried, I'm having fun. Maybe it's not concern, maybe it's jealousy because he's drinking a beer instead of what I have.
"Whatever it is, I need another one." I turn away from him and search for the table with all the booze on it. I locate it in the other side of the room and grin, taking a lurching step toward it. It feels like the world is spinning, or there's an earthquake or something. Maybe there is.
"No, I think you've had enough." John says behind me, and before I can make any progress with my journey, his hand wraps around my wrist and he steers me back to him. The movement makes the clear stuff in my cup slosh around and some splashes out of the top, spilling on my hand.
"Aw, it spilled." I mumble, looking at the side of my hand to see the liquid running down.
"Maybe that's a good thing." John laughs.
"Why?" I ask. He smiles a little before shaking his head.
"No reason." He says. If I could keep a thought in my head, I would probably be wondering what his reason was.
I shrug, content to leave his answer at that. I look out onto the floor, everyone is jumping around and it's dizzying, or maybe that's just me. Without realizing it, I find myself leaning against John to keep myself balanced. I take another sip of my drink and cringe when it burns going down, but it leaves me feeling warm.
"You know, maybe we should go find Riley and ask if she's ready to go." John suggests, uncertainty in his eyes as he looks down at me.
"No." I whine. "I'm not ready." My lips feel clumsy and I hear my words slur on the way our, as they have been for the last hour. The small bit of sensibility still left in my mind agrees with John that I should leave. I quickly push that part down.
John chuckles. "In the morning you'll be wishing you left earlier." He says.
"Why?" I ask. "Wait, do you think I'm going to have a hangover?" I lean my head on his shoulder and crane my neck so I can see him.
"For sure." He answers, nodding.
I sigh. "Shit, I told Riley and Marina that I wouldn't drink too much." I shake my head, his shoulder pressing into my temple. "How much did I drink?" I ask.
"Hm, I'm not sure." He shrugs, my head gets jostled with the movement. "Obviously too much if you're using my shoulder as a head rest." He smiles at me and I laugh.
"Well, It's very comfortable." I say. "I'll give it four stars."
"What? Why only four? What happened to the fifth star?" He asks, looking offended. I smile as he goes along with my foolishness.
"It's over there with the drink you won't let me have." I wrinkle my nose at him and he snorts.
"Well in that case, I refuse to let you rest on it for any longer." He playfully pushes my head off and I sway on my feet, suddenly feeling cold without him next to me. "I can't have the reputation of my shoulder ruined by a teenage girl drinking vodka of all things." He shakes his head in mock disgust and I giggle without thinking.
"Did you just giggle, Maren?" John asks, his blue eyes wide with exaggerated disbelief. I try to glare at him but can't stop a grin from spreading across my face anyway. I'm aware that I'm acting foolish and stupid and not myself, but I can't control it or stop it. It would be like refusing to breath.
"Shut up." I say, only half joking.
"Oh perfect, now you're back to normal." He grins cheekily at me and I laugh, but frown after a second.
"I'm not usually very nice, am I?" I say.
John doesn't say anything for a second. "Not particularly, no." He admits. It makes me happy for a second, that he didn't lie to me like a lot of people would have. "But I think your heart is in the right place."
"That's nice of you to say." I smile, satisfied.
"You know, it's not a bad thing, to be a little blunt. You don't take people's crap, you stand up for yourself, take the lead. Those are good qualities." He smiles kindly making me feel warm. Or maybe that's just the alcohol. "You can't have everything. Nobody is perfect." He takes a sip of his beer.
"Aren't you wise." I tease him.
He laughs and shakes his head. "You know what? Let's get you that drink, maybe I'll get that fifth star."
I grin and he gets me a drink, saying it's my last. I don't believe him.
Riley
I lean on the wall in the corner of the kitchen as the night stretches on. It's a little quieter out here, and for the most part, I'm alone apart from the occasional drunk wandering in from the living room, where the heart of the party seems to be. I can see in there through an archway when I lean a little to the left, but I don't need to look to know what's going on. I can smell the booze from out here and the floor gives off a steady thumping that can only belong to fifty people all jumping to the same beat. I look out anyway, for my own amusement more than curiosity. As suspected, half of my grade are out there, holding plastic red cups and making strange movements that I think is supposed to be dancing. I smile to myself when I see a guy spill his drink on the girl next to him, who pushes him in anger.
I offered to be the designated driver tonight, since I don't drink now anyway. After many bad experiences of waking up on beer stained carpets, throwing up for hours, and pounding in my head that didn't go away for a day, I resorted to never drinking again. That was a few years ago though, I'd like to think I've gotten wiser since then. Although sometimes I'm not sure. Luckily, Maren and Marina were smarter than me. So they still have their hangover days ahead of them. Although, I would be lying if I said I'm not scared to see what Maren is like with a hangover. As I'm watching, Maren appears in the archway. When she sees me she waves with a big grin, obviously having downed a few drinks. I wave back slowly, slightly shocked to see her like that, and she shoots me a thumbs up before disappearing back into the crowd. I'll guess I'll be seeing how she handles a hangover pretty soon.
I eat a chip out of the bowl I stole from the living room earlier. Everybody's primary focus is on the booze anyway so I didn't feel too bad when I took it into hiding with me a half hour ago. I told Maren and Marina to come get me when they were ready to leave, it's only 11:30 now and I've been waiting for an hour, not that I mind though. I've actually been having a good time watching my peers stumbling around and acting stupid.
Just as I lean away from from the opening to the living room, Marina turns the corner. She looks around the massive kitchen for a second before she finds me. She smiles at me as she walks over, a red cup in her hand.
"Hey." She greets me, leaning next to me on the wall.
"Hey yourself." I reply. "Enjoying the party?"
She shrugs. "Yeah, it's alright I guess." I raise an eyebrow at her and a reluctant grin breaks out on here face. "Okay, it's pretty amazing." She admits. "I mean, did you see the size of this place? There's a pool, with a waterfall going into another pool!"
I nod, laughing at her amazement but also barely able to contain my own awe at the lavish house. "Yup, it's pretty cool." I agree. I eye the brown liquid swimming in her cup. "What are you drinking?"
"Um..." She looks down in the cup also. "I don't really know." She concludes, giggling a little.
"Are you tipsy, Mar?" I ask with mock incredulity.
"No." She laughs, but I suspect she is because she's not embarrassed by the question like she usually would be.
"You're a little tipsy."
"A little." She repeats. I roll my eyes smiling. I'm happy she's having a good time. "Are you bored?" She asks suddenly. Wow, she's drunk and she's still thinking about other people.
"Not at all actually. This is hilarious, I should get some popcorn." I reply, gesturing to the living room.
Marina laughs, probably a bit harder than my comment warranted. I suspect the drink in her hand has something to do with it. "Are you sure though?"
"I'm sure." I say. She studies me for a moment, probably looking for signs that I'm lying. Judging by the state she's in, I doubt she would know if I was. "Marina, I'm fine here. Now go drink more of whatever's in that cup." I tell her, smiling reassuringly.
She laughs again, shaking her head. "Alright, I believe you. But I actually came here to ask you a favour." She takes a chip out of the huge bowl I'm holding, a confused expression crossing her face. "Wait, weren't these in the living room?"
"They were." I mumble guiltily. "Now they're not."
"Did you steal these from the party?" She asks, then laughs as she realizes I did.
"Didn't you have a favour to ask me?" I say quickly.
"Right, yeah." She murmurs, then pauses like she forgot what we were talking about. Suddenly, her expression clears and she grins triumphantly. "Yeah, does your van have room for one more when we head back?"
"If you can assure me they won't puke on my seats, then yes." I say. "Now go, have fun. Come get me when your ready, I'll be here." She still just looks at me, like she need to be reminded. "Go." I give her a gentle push back in the direction of the living room. She laughs and waves to me before disappearing back in the crowd.
It's weird being the responsible one for once, it's usually Marina. Now I know how she must feel all the time. I eat more chips while listening to the steady beat of the music, the bowl is big enough that I can get my arms around it, like I'm hugging it.
Eventually, my back starts to hurt from being in the same position for so long. I put down the chips and make my way out through the kitchen archway. The sound is almost deafening in here and I find myself hunching my shoulders like they could cover my ears and muffle the sound. God, I feel like an old woman. Instead of going to the dance floor though, I stay to to the sidelines. It's dizzying watching everybody jump around, so I skim the wall with my hand to keep my path straight, heading toward a doorway that leads away from the pounding speakers.
I keep watching the dance floor, I can't see Maren or Marina anymore, which either means they're swallowed in the crowd, or they wandered someplace else. I feel the doorway with my hand, and don't look as I step through. Or, try to step through. Right when I am about to head in, what feels like a wall hits me from the front. I go stumbling backwards. This is what I get for not paying attention to where I'm going, I chide myself. Before I can fall, two big hands wrap around my upper arms and jerk me upright again.
"Shit, sorry!" A rough voice cries. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good." I say quickly as I feel heat start to rise to my cheeks. "And no need to apologize, it's actually my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going and I didn't see you coming, so I just thought it was fine and..." I run a hand though my hair and look around to recover my senses, my eyes land on my saviour. Stanley Worthington stands in front of me. He's still gripping my arms as though I could still fall over, and he's smirking at me.
"Well, hello there." He says, letting go of my arms. He leans his back against the doorway I was trying to go into, still smirking down at me.
"Hi." I say. I stuff my hands in my jean pockets, suddenly at a loss of what to do with them. "Sorry."
His smirk grows into a grin. "No this is great. I was actually hoping I'd run into you."
I can't stop myself from laughing at the pun, I've always loved lame jokes, but usually I'm the one saying them. Only then do I notice the beer bottle on the floor, a dark stain forming around it. I made him drop his drink.
"Your beer." I say stupidly.
Stanley shrugs. "I was gonna go get another one anyway." I doubt that, because by the mess on the floor, it looks like the bottle was near full. "You want anything?" Before I can respond he shakes his head. "Never mind, I'm getting you a beer."
I'm about to reply with a respectful no when he starts walking purposefully toward the kitchen, and I notice that he's staggering a little. He's drunk like the majority of people in this room, it's probably a miracle he managed to catch me. Nonetheless, he walks through the crowd easily, people noticing him and moving out of the way, while I have to push through my peers to follow him. It probably helps that he's taller than most of them, people can see him coming, whereas even when I stand on my toes, the world is still just a mass of shoulders and heads. Being 5'6 makes a big difference in a crowd.
I finally get to the kitchen just as he's opening the fridge. He takes two bottles out and hands me one. I take it, deciding it will easier just to put it back after.
"So." He says, talking a little too loud, probably because he's used to talking over the music. "Enjoying the party?" His speech is slurring a little and I wonder if he should rethink drinking that beer he just got. He pops it open and takes a swig anyway.
"Yeah, it's really cool." I reply, deciding not to tell him that I've been camped out in the kitchen the entire time. "A little loud though." I admit. He looks at me weird so I try to backtrack. "I mean, I know parties are supposed to be loud, but it's just..." I trail off, not really knowing how to explain myself. "Not really my scene." Anymore, I add internally as I finish.
Stanley looks at me for a second. "I know, it's weird." I say.
"It's not weird." He says simply, then grins. "Come on." He starts to walk out.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"Somewhere quieter."
"That's vague."
He shrugs, smirking, and takes a step out into the living room, forcing me to follow or lose him in the crowd.
. . .
"So, what do you think?" He asks.
"I think you brought me to a roof." I reply, looking around at the plain black shingles. I don't know what I expected, the house is definitely fancy enough to have a rooftop gazebo or something ridiculous like that. But no, it's just a roof.
Stanley laughs. "I did indeed. You wanted quiet, well here it is." I do have to admit, it's nice up here, barely any sound can be heard other than the music by the pool that I can now see is behind the house.
He turns around and starts to walk up to the peak. I do the same, having to lean forward to balance the incline. It feels a little weird, but Stanley walks it like it's almost second nature.
"So... I'm guessing this is your house?" I ask.
Stanley arches an eyebrow, looking back at me as he continues. "Yeah, you didn't know who's house you were coming to?" I shake my head. "Wow, do you make a habit of showing up at strangers houses or is this just a one time thing? Because that could be dangerous." He teases. He sits down close to the peak of the roof and I drop down beside him. I can feel the vibrations of the music through the house and I'm suddenly glad he brought me up here.
"Well, I have been known to be quite the rebel." I raise an eyebrow at him and he laughs. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, while I sit cross legged next to him.
"For some reason, I don't think that's the case." He takes another long swig of his beer and I put mine in my lap, forgetting I even had it in my hand. All of a sudden, the beat from the music gets louder. Stanley looks down. "Hm, I guess someone turned up the speaker."
"It can get louder?" I ask. He laughs at me, I ignore him. "So, how can you throw a party this huge without your parents knowing?"
Suddenly, Stanley's smile fades a little and he looks away. I get the feeling he isn't going to launch into a very happy explanation. I feel guilty at once, I shouldn't have just assumed he had a perfect home life.
"Sorry, you don't have to answer." I interject quickly. "I didn't mean to- I mean, I didn't think, it just slipped out. I shouldn't have brought it up, I didn't know, I just-" I shake my head. "God, I just assumed and you don't have to tell me, it's fine. Well, maybe not fine for you-" I cup the back of my neck with my hand and look down to hide my face, which I'm sure is bright red. I don't know what to say. I've probably offended him enough. "Sorry."
I look at Stanley from the corner of my eye, searching for any signs of hurt. But instead, when I catch his eye, he laughs. "You ramble a lot." He says.
"Really? Where'd you get that impression?" I say sarcastically.
"Well, there was that time in tutoring, then down in the living room, and-"
"It was a rhetorical question." I interrupt and he chuckles. He knew, he was just trying to embarrass me more. It worked, but it's not like I ever needed anyone's help to make a fool of myself.
"You find this funny." I say.
"Yeah, it's pretty funny." His eyes meet mine, I try to glare at him. Although I can't hold the serious look for long, looking away as I feel the corner of my mouth start to pull up. "Ha! You smiled." He points at me, grinning triumphantly.
I roll my eyes. "Whatever." We both sit in comfortable silence for a second.
"You know, I'm not offended that you asked about my parents." Stanley breaks the silence. "I could tell you. I mean, if you want to know that bad." He smirks at me.
"You don't have to." I say.
"No, I will." He finishes the rest of his beer in one gulp and holds it with his fingertips while he talks.
Stanley tells me that his mother was Devektra. Devektra, the famous pop star. She died when he was young, in some type of terrorist attack on a club she was singing at. Stanley was only two years old at the time so he doesn't remember her. When she died, she passed on almost all of her money to Sandor, who's now a big shot lawyer that goes away a lot for business, thus freeing up space for Stanley to have his parties.
"Wow." I murmur once he's finished. "Sorry about you're mom." I don't know what to say really. He didn't even know her, what can you say? I didn't really expect the conversation to get that dark, especially since I barely know the guy. And I've never really been that great at comforting people.
"Thanks." He shrugs. He brings the bottle of beer he gave me to his lips, having asked if I was going to drink it halfway through his narrative.
"Well, at least you're probably good at karaoke." I cringe as soon as I say it. My natural response to sadness is to say something funny, like a joke could erase the pain of his mothers death. Stupid.
A surprised laugh comes from next me, and Stanley leans forward to put his head between his knees as he continues. I'm surprised too, I was not expecting him to laugh at my completely insensitive comment. It wasn't even funny. Even so, I can't help but smile in relief that he wasn't offended.
"I can't believe you actually just said that." He laughs through his words, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Well, you caught me off guard a little." I mumble. "I wasn't prepared for the conversation to go that way."
He grins at me, then sighs. "I don't usually tell people this stuff." He admits.
"Well you are a bit drunk, so that probably has something to do with it." I say, although I'm not exactly sure how true the statement is. He seemed pretty drunk down in the party, but ever since we got up here, he seems like a different person.
"Not drunk enough." He replies, turning the beer bottle upside down in his hand to show it's empty. "I'm going to go down and get more, you can stay here." He pushes himself up while I shake my head.
"No, I should probably head down too, Maren and Marina might want to go soon."
"Well, that's a shame. Here we were having so much fun." Stanley sighs dramatically and I laugh pushing myself up, but I lose my balance on the slope and stumble forward. I wouldn't have fallen, but Stanley's hand clamps around my wrist anyway, steadying me. "Wow, are you sure you're not the drunk one? That's the second time I've had to save you tonight." He smirks at me and I roll my eyes.
"Yes, my knight in shining armour. How could I live without you?" I say flatly, starting my journey down the roof. He laughs behind me. There's a ladder leading down to a balcony, which I climb down kind of awkwardly, and head inside.
"What's this room even used for?" I ask once Stanley comes up behind me. The room is mostly empty, except for a few boxes dotted around the hardwood floor, and a balcony door I just entered from.
He shrugs. "Storage I think." He replies. He looks like he's going to say more but my phone starts ringing. I give him an apologetic look which he just waves off with a smile. It's Katerina, Maren's mother. I also notice that's it's 12:30.
She asks me if Maren can stay at my place tonight so she can go to bed, and of course, I agree. As far as I know, Katerina works a ton, she probably needs a break. Stanley and I head back downstairs, he grabs another beer as I search the crowd for Maren.
"Looking for someone?" Stanley's voice comes from behind me, suprising me with how fast he managed to get his beer.
"Yeah. Maren." His smile lessens once I mention Maren, but otherwise he seems unfazed.
"Well, you won't be able to see her from down there." He says with his signature smirk. "Follow me, I see her."
He weaves his way through the crowd and eventually I spot a head of raven hair, straight when we came here, but now tousled. Of course, she still looks annoyingly great, if only all of us had that talent. She's laughing about something the guy next to her said, and I can tell she's had one too many drinks by the way her grin doesn't falter when she sees Stanley.
"Hey Riley, where've you been?" She slurs once she sees me.
"Around." I answer vaguely, she doesn't seem to care and laughs at my response. I look in her cup and cringe. "Maren, is that just straight vodka?" I ask. I hear Stanley snort behind me.
"I think so." She mumbles. "It's good! Try some!" Immediately I shake my head, I've had it. It tastes terrible and burns going down.
"Katerina just called and it turns out your crashing at my place tonight." I tell her, ignoring her proposition. She grins.
"Like a sleepover?" I nod and she laughs. I'm not sure I like Maren this way. It unsettles me to see her this cheerful, it just doesn't seem right.
"Hey, Riley?" The boy next to Maren interjects. He has blond hair and blue eyes that look a lot clearer than Maren's. I recognize him as the guy I switched seats with in math. He's handsome. "I'm John by the way. Maren mentioned you might be able to give me a ride home?" It's a good thing my van can seat eight
"Yeah, that's not a problem." I smile at him.
"Thanks." He grins back at me before following Maren back into the crowd. At least I know she's in good hands.
"So, you're still going to be here for a while then." Stanley says. He arches an eyebrow and holds up three drinks all in one hand. I guess he's preparing for later. He grins. "Let's go."
. . .
"Okay, this song?" Stanley asks.
"Easy. 'Little Talks' by Of Monsters and Men. Released in 2011."
He shakes his head. "How do you have space for all of this information?"
Since talking to Maren, Stanley and I have migrated to the rail of his deck. Ever since I told him I have a freakish memory, he's been quizzing me on almost every song that comes on to see if I know them. So far, I've gotten them all right.
"I told you I have a weird brain." I shrug.
"Must be cool to just remember everything." He says.
"Sometimes." I reply, frowning as I remember some of the memories that won't fade.
Stanley doesn't notice my darkened expression and cheerily takes a sip of his beer, the other two empty bottles sit on the wide patio rail. There's no question that he is drunk now. He has definitely had five beers since we started hanging out, and probably more before.
"Wait, is that why you're so good at math?" He asks.
"Maybe." I've never really thought about my memory being factor in math since the numbers change, but I guess it makes sense. I suppose it takes a good memory to recall formulas.
"You know what?" He slurs, turning to face me. "You're a good person. You didn't have to hang out with me tonight, but here you are." He nods like he satisfied with what he said.
"Actually, I was just hanging out in the kitchen by myself. So you kind of did me a favour." Usually, I wouldn't admit to that, but judging by the way his eyes are sliding over me, he won't remember half of this conversation tomorrow so it doesn't matter anyway.
"That's sad, you're pretty, you should have been out dancing." He shakes his head and I snort.
"I should be out dancing because I'm pretty?" I ask, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Well... yeah." He says likes its obvious.
"Okay, you're more drunk than I thought." I laugh. "How many beers have you had?"
Stanley's eyebrows furrow like he has to concentrate. "Um... maybe?" I wait for him to finish his sentence but that seems like it's all he plans to say.
"'Maybe' isn't a number." I say and he shrugs.
"It can be." He mumbles quietly, like a kid trying to secretly get the last word in an argument. I shake my head at him, smiling all the same.
He leans heavily on the rail, and shakes his shaggy hair out of his eyes with a little more force than necessary. I have to admit, he's extremely attractive, wearing a t-shirt even though it's only ten degrees outside and I'm almost cold in my hoodie. Oh well, it shows off his toned arms, which is why I assume he chose to wear it. He's definitely arrogant enough to pick out an outfit for that reason. Still, I like him. Not in the 'like like' way as they would say it in middle school, but as a person. It's easy to admit that to myself here in the dark, with him not aware of what I'm thinking.
"Are you checking me out?" Stanley smirks at me. I hadn't even noticed he was looking at me. I would be embarrassed if not for his glazed, dark eyes that tell me he doesn't even know what he's saying, much less how I respond.
"Yeah." I say, watching him to see how he'll react. If he's surprised by my response, he doesn't show it, shooting me a lopsided grin.
"And... what do you think?"
"I think you need a haircut." Stanley's hand immediately shoots us to his perfect mess of hair.
"Holy shit, you're right!" He exclaims. I can't help but laugh at his obvious drunkness, if that's even a word. "Lets go then." He lets go of the railing and lurches to the side, I automatically grab his arm to keep him from falling. Although, I probably wouldn't be able to hold him up anyway.
"Maybe later." I laugh, pulling him back to the railing so he won't fall. He doesn't grab the railing, instead he stumbles closer to me, so close that the top of my head is almost touching his chin. I wait for him to move back, but he doesn't, grinning down at me.
"Hey." He says. Suddenly, I feel my heart speed up. I'm not sure why.
"Um, hi." My voice sounds tight, I wish it didn't.
I should take a step back back, he's drunk he doesn't know what he's doing, but I find myself rooted in place. His eyes hold mine.
"R!" Marina's voice shouts from the patio door. I snap my eyes to her and hurriedly take a step back from Stanley. She's standing by the house, grinning at me. "We should go. It's like two-thirty." She calls. "A.M." She adds, as though I couldn't have figured it out myself.
"Right, well see ya." I say, speaking to Stanley now.
"Bye... R." He laughs at the nickname. I roll my eyes and walk over to Marina. I feel his eyes on me the whole way over.
"Alright, to the van." I say dramatically, ignoring Marina's arched eyebrow and smirk. She's not too drunk to ignore what just she just saw, but she decides to leave it alone, not saying anything as we walk back into house.
It doesn't take very long to find Maren with the help of John waving to us. The crowd has dissipated greatly by now so we spot them easily.
"Are we leaving now?" John asks.
"Yup, the van is out front." I say. Maren comes stumbling over to me and puts an arm around my shoulder, leaning on me. "How much has she had to drink?" I ask John.
"Um, I don't know." He admits, smiling sheepishly as I half lift, half drag Maren toward the door.
We get out the door and Maren laughs as she almost trips down the walkway. I hear Marina talking to someone behind us, I look back to see her laughing with a curly haired guy, slowly ambling our way. That must be who she asked if I could bring home. I focus my attention back on Maren as she nearly falls and John steps forward to help me with her.
"She's going to have bad hangover tomorrow." I say to John.
He laughs. "That's an understatement."
"Are you talking about me?" Maren mumbles, blearily looking up at me.
"No, God of course not." I give her an offended look and she seems satisfied.
"Okay, good." She slurs. On the other side of her, John laughs.
When we get to the van, I tell Marina and whoever she has with her to get in first, since they both look more able bodied than Maren. The boy introduces himself as Joseph, and both him and Marina get in the third row of seats. John helps me get Maren in the back seat and she lies down across the seats. I do up her seatbelt as best I can while she's laid down and get in the front, John jumping into the passenger seat.
"Everybody have their seat belts done up?" I call and smirk when I see Joseph fumble for his in the mirror. "Alright, where to, Joseph?"
"Take a left up there m'am." He points forward and I step on gas, the car propelling us down the dark road. It's only now that I realize how tired I am. I yawn and shake my head to wake myself up.
"Long night?" John asks.
"Is it that obvious?" I reply, taking a left at the end of the road. I must take the turn a little too fast because John has to brace himself on the armrest to keep himself from hitting his shoulder off the window.
"Woohoo!" Maren cheers from the back seat. "Again!" Next to me, John laughs, looking slightly on edge.
"I'm a safe driver." I assure him. "Just, not the smoothest. Plus the van is old so it probably has a few problems." I shrug.
Johns eyes widen and I grin as he nods stiffly. "I'm kidding." I say, giving him my best reassuring smile. "Well, about the second part anyway." I see him visibly relax. "I mean the van is old, but it's in good condition." Which is true, it was mom's so it's at least eight years old.
"She's right." Maren puts in from the backseat. Not that her words are very reassuring at this point anyway. "Old Mavis here is... really good."
John raises an eyebrow at me and I shrug. "Joseph. Where next."
"Take a right." He says. I do, trying to go a little slower this time so nobody fears for their safety.
"You named your car Mavis?" John asks, amusement in his tone.
"Yup." I reply, returning his amused expression with a smile of my own.
He laughs. "Can I ask why?"
"It didn't feel like it was mine when I started driving it, so I gave her a name." I explain, deciding not to tell him that the previous owner was my now deceased mother. That would dampen the mood slightly.
"Oh, so it was used. You must have gotten a good deal."
I bite my lip. "Um, yeah I guess."
"Stop!" I slam on the brakes as a shout from Joseph rings through the car. We're all pressed violently against the seat belts and a chorus of collective groans can be heard from all of us.
"What?" I ask breathless, leaning forward to make sure I never hit anything and I just didn't know it.
"My house is here." Joseph responds calmly.
John turns around in his seat. "Seriously dude?" He scowls at Joseph while I pull off to the side of the road, thankfully there was nobody behind us.
Joseph mumbles an apology and undoes his seat belt. "Thank you very much. See ya." He winks as he closes the door and I wait until he gets inside to drive away.
"Did he just wink?" Maren mumbles.
. . .
I grunt as I try to pull Maren off of the backseat. She had fallen asleep and is now deadweight in my car.
"Come on, Maren. Help me out a little!" I plead. I pull until I get her to the edge of the seat but I have to stop or else she'll fall out of the car. "Marina, can you come here for a second?"
Marina decided to sleep at my place too because Adelina wouldn't be pleasant if she got woken up at three in the morning. Now I have two cranky teenagers and an equally cranky older sister to wake up to in the morning. Great.
"Okay what do you want me to do?" Marina is now beside me, giggling when she sees Maren's state. I might not be getting much help from her either.
"Just, try to catch her back when I pull her down." I sigh, gone past the point of being gentle.
I grab Maren's arms again and give her a not-so-gentle pull out of the van. Marina tries to catch her back, but stumbles and ends up falling with her, but she must not be hurt because she laughs right after. Instead of being irritated, I just laugh with her, more out of hopelessness than anything. Although seeing them both like this is better than amusing, or at least it will be in the morning.
"R, can you unlock the door? It's cold." Marina whines once we get to the door.
"It's ten degrees out with no wind." I reply as I fumble for the keys in my pocket.
"Yeah, it is ten degrees."
"My point is, you're wearing a hoodie, it's not cold." I shake my head and open the door. "Okay, be quiet. Steph is probably gone to bed."
"Alright." Marina whisper-shouts. I send her a look but she doesn't catch it.
I drop Maren off on the couch as Marina disappears somewhere in the house. I drape a blanket over her and leave a glass of water on the side table for when she wakes up. I also put a bucket by the side of the couch, it's likely she will throw up and I will not let it be on the hardwood. I look around for Marina but I can't see her, which is pretty bad considering you can basically see the whole house from the living room.
"Marina!" I whisper, trying my best to be quiet.
I look around for bit before giving up, deciding she's probably in my room. Sure enough, when I open my door, Marina lies there, sprawled out across the double mattress. I think about the morning she'll have tomorrow. She'll definitely have a hangover not as bad as Maren's, but not a clear head either. Sighing, I grab a few blankets and pillows and set up a bed on the floor alongside my real one. She needs all the sleep she can get.
I regret my decision a little when I feel the hardwood floor underneath me, but when I feel my eyelids droop, I know I'm tired enough to get to sleep anywhere at this point.
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