Tristan was leaning against his wall, contemplating how long he'd have to be at the party for. He'd be expected so he had to show up… Everyone would be there. A smirk flashed across his face as the phone laying a little ways away from him caught his eye. A few phone calls later and he had easily found a piece of information he had been looking for.
"Hello?" a voice answered.
"Tara, baby, how are you?" Tristan grinned into the phone.
"Dugrey!" Tara exclaimed. "How did you get my number? Why are you calling me!"
"I'm rescuing you from a life of boredom, books, and nerdom." He announced. "Come on, we're off to Lucille's party."
"Didn't you hear me tell you a hundred times that I wasn't going!" Tara snapped incredulously.
"I know you're just shy." He brushed off.
"I don't want to go. How did you get my number?" she asked again. "We're not listed!"
"Have you learned nothing of me, Elden?" Tristan laughed. "I have the entire school directory at my finger tips. I can pick you up right now."
"Dugrey, I said no," Grumbled the girl, "And I find it disturbing and stalker-like that you have my number in the first place. You know where I live, too, which isn't comforting either."
"I'm not going to go over to your house and maul you with a chain saw," Tristan sarcastically answered.
"Have fun at Lucille's party." He could tell she was rolling her eyes.
"It'd be so much more fun if you just agreed to go." Tristan glanced at the clock. He still had half an hour until the party started, and arriving late wasn't a weird occurrence for him, so he had plenty of time. "What if I wanted to talk to you? You know, 'stop pretending'."
"Don't make me regret saying that." She told him severely. "I don't think you yourself should go to that party either. I mean, you just had a hang over today, do you really want one tomorrow too?"
"Why are you assuming I'm going to get drunk?" Tristan questioned.
"It wouldn't surprise me if you did, that's all." She said.
"Then don't you think you should come and make sure I don't get in too much trouble? It would be morally wrong for you to let me get drunk tonight." He smiled.
"What's going on at that party, any ways?" Tara asked.
"Getting interested?" Tristan grinned.
"Something's wrong with me and for some reason I can't understand, I don't want you to end up doing anything you'll regret, if you actually are capable of feeling anything but horny selfishness." She sighed.
"So come, watch over me," Tristan wheedled.
"Do you go to every party held?" the disapproving tone was entering her tone.
"Only the good ones." He fiddled with a book on his end table while answering.
"Why do you bother, I mean the way I see it, they're all the same load of trash. I guess it'd have to be different for you, but people just go there to get drunk, or maybe high. They hook up and mingle with all the other fake people. It's so… superficial. Why should I go?" She didn't know how much Tristan agreed with her.
"I'll be there," he couldn't help himself.
"Har har, why did I know that was coming. Seriously, there's nothing there that I'd exactly enjoy. I'm not like you, I'm not friends with everyone there and, well, I don't really want to be. Call me anti-social, call me whatever, but I'm over that."
"What do you mean?" Tristan frowned.
"Never mind. If you insist on going to that party, I hope you have fun, but do yourself a favour, don't do anything stupid." She told him. "And by that I mean, for one night, don't be yourself."
"I'm going to take offence at that!" he chuckled.
"Don't get into too much shit, all right?" Tara sounded tired.
"Do you care?" he scoffed.
"Yeah, I do." She answered. "I may not like you but I don't want anything crappy to happen to you."
"I'm touched. Who knew you cared about me? I'm not going to drink and drive or anything, mom." Tristan laughed. He developed a more serious tone, "No, really though, thanks. Are you sure you don't want to come?"
"Are you sure you do?"
"I don't have a choice, Elden." Tristan said. "See you tomorrow." And he put the phone down. Mindless partying, here we come!
"Tristan! You came!" Lucille beamed as she opened the door to let him in. The grand house was practically bursting with music, and from the looks of it, every person in their age range in Hartford had showed up.
Tristan simply smiled as he walked into the house, not failing to notice the ridiculously short dress Lucille was wearing, not to mention the fact that her breath already reeked of alcohol. Add that to her almost over powering perfume and hair spray and Tristan felt the fleeting urge to duck away. Lucille Mullnania was beautiful, that was undeniably true. At times like these, though, Tristan vilely thought that she brought new meaning to the words 'desperate skank'. The perfect type of person to hook up with, and the worst type to date. Did Tristan actually date? Heh. He was thinking too much. Lucille noticed and he realized she was waiting for him to say something.
"Your parent's aren't coming home tonight, are they?" he laughed, for the sake of ending the silence.
"No, they're out of town until next Thursday. So, you know, no one's going to kick anyone out tomorrow morning if people decided to stay the night…" she grinned. Tristan automatically smirked. "I was talking about if people got too hammered to drive home, you perv!" she giggled, socking his shoulder. "Where is your mind these days?"
The reality was, Tristan had hooked up at Lucille's parties on more than a few occasions. He'd become well acquainted with many of the fifteen bedrooms, not to mention a few walk-in closets, the kitchen pantry, the basement, washrooms, and pool table. What could he say? Desire hit at unexpected times.
What was he going to do tonight… Tristan looked around and dwelled on the limited prospects. Dancing. He wasn't in the mood. Getting drunk? It was a bit early in the party for that… Lucille did have a pool but he didn't feel like getting wet, either. Eh. It wouldn't be hard to find a friend, Tristan recognized seventy percent of the people there, but it was far too loud to be able to hold a steady conversation with anyone. Tristan could feel an unwelcome but nonetheless familiar feeling of loneliness seep into him. He cursed at himself. He was at a party swarming with people, what the hell was wrong with him? A few girls he didn't know smiled at him, another made a questioning gesture- obviously asking him to dance. Shrugging off his annoying caution, Tristan smiled and joined the girls who had been trying to catch his attention.
"What school are you from?" one of the girls asked. She had on a distractingly dark shade of lipstick and buoyantly curled ringlets.
"Chilton." Tristan answered, practically yelling over the music.
"The Prep school?" Her friend, a petite dirty blonde shouted.
"Yeah, that'd be it." He nodded with a grin.
"So do you guys have to wear uniforms?" the blonde played with her glass, looking up at him with a gleam in her eyes.
"Suit and tie," Tristan laughed. He could see where this was going. "Maybe I'll show you it one day." The knowledge that some girls had a thing for private school uniforms in the way that some guys liked girls in catholic schoolgirl uniforms was not lost on Tristan.
"Mmm." Ringlets bit her lip and lightly traced his jaw with her finger. "Wouldn't that piss off your girlfriend? You must have one."
"Haven't found anyone who could show me a good time," he smiled. "Besides, who wants to be tied down, anyways."
"I so agree." The blonde nodded. "A night of careless no-strings-attached fun never hurt anyone."
Tristan got a sudden image of a rowdy three some and a thought automatically flashed through his mind: Hell yeah, that's just the escape I need. The girls seemed to be thinking along the exact lines as the blonde cocked her head and hung her arm around his neck casually and ringlets slipped her arm around his waist, her eyes inviting.
"What would you say to a few hours of fun…maybe you could show us how much spirit a Prep school boy really has." The ringlets suggested, gesturing to an open door that Tristan recognized to be the entrance to one of the bedrooms.
Why not? But somehow a voice in his mind whispered, 'what would Tara say?' Sleeping with random girls wasn't the smartest thing he could do. He was thinking rationally. This was not good. The problem was he didn't consume any alcohol yet, yes, a few drinks would shut off his brain… But he had to drive home. Well, he could crash here… He grabbed a nearby can of beer and chugged it. One beer wasn't going to hurt and besides, Lucille had already said he could crash the night if he wanted to. But a part of him held him back from going with the girls.
"Sorry ladies, I'm going to have to turn you down, as appealing as that offer sounds." He smiled, brushing past them. The music pounded on his head as he grabbed another beer. The next thing he knew he was waking up from a sprawled position on the couch. He must've fallen asleep. Or passed out… Feeling quite like this was not the escape he had sought out, he groggily weaved through the people towards the door. The music was killing him and he just wanted fresh air. The beer had blacked out a lot of the distracting emotions he usually had inside of him and he was feeling much lighter, but he felt it was time to leave the party. For a moment Tristan wondered if he was too intoxicated to drive, after the second beer he wasn't sure if he had grabbed any more. Deciding he had better not risk it, he started to walk.
One foot in front of the other, he silently instructed his feet. It took him a while but it slowly dawned on Tristan that his house was twenty minutes away from Lucille's by car. It'd be a fairly long walk, especially considering he wasn't even aware of which direction he was going. He continued striding along for what felt like hours before giving up and stumbling onto the ground. Pulling himself up again, Tristan tried to see where he was. He didn't recognize much.
"Tristan?" a familiar voice called out in shock. He blinked and turned to the voice.
"I thought you weren't going to the party-" Tristan smirked, waving at Tara who was standing outside a shop staring at him with her mouth open.
"And I thought you weren't going to do anything stupid. We're not near any residential places, did you walk all the way here from the party! The closest house is at least an hour walk from here. How hammered did you get?" she sighed.
"I'm not being stupid, I'm walking aren't I, not driving," he wagged his finger.
"Ugh. You were walking in the middle of the road. All right, come here," she rolled her eyes and grasped his arm. She turned and led the blonde to a car and pushed him in the back seat and buckled him in. A moment later an older woman walked out of the shop and raised her eyebrows upon seeing the semi-conscious teen in her backseat.
"He's wandering, drunk, we should give him a ride." She explained. "Tristan, what's your address?"
Tristan muttered something barely comprehendible and the car took off. A good forty five minutes later the car screeched to a halt and Tara got out and opened the door, gently pulling Tristan onto his driveway.
"Do you have your keys?" she asked.
"I dunno, do I? Want to check my wallet, it's in my pant pocket-" he laughed. "Just kidding." He jingled a key chain out of his jacket pocket and dangled them in her face. She snatched them and half-pushed half-carried Tristan into his dark house.
She walked him to his couch and plopped him down. Glancing around, she tossed a shawl-like item over him and after a moment went over to him with a glass of water. He grinned and took a sip.
"Thanks." He muttered. Tara tipped his glass over and splashed the water over his face. "What the hell-"
"Stop getting so drunk. Stop wandering in the middle of he road. Next time you feel like you can't drive, call a cab, honestly. Don't be such a moron!" Tara exclaimed, a hint of anger and worry seeping in. Without waiting for a response, she turned around and headed for the door.
"Taraaa?" he crooned as she reached the door.
"What, Dugrey?" she sighed.
"Thank you." and those two words were the least tipsy-sounding words he had managed all night. "Really. I owe you."
"Don't get yourself killed and we'll call it even." Tara managed a small smile and left the building.