Emily loved going to parties. Not the ones her mother organized – full of self-righteous politicians and dignitaries – but the ones with music so loud you could barely hear your own thoughts and plenty of alcohol.
She had only arrived at her latest school a few months earlier, due to yet another of her mother's job transfers, and she was still struggling to push past her 'new girl' notoriety yet again...with one exception: Penelope Garcia. The one person who had bothered to get to know her.
They'd crossed paths in the school library when Emily's laptop froze in the middle of writing a history essay. Penelope had simply been in the right place at the right time, but in spite of the quick fix she'd employed to said laptop, she'd taken it upon herself to make Emily her new best friend whether Emily liked it or not.
Mostly their friendship consisted of Penelope dragging her along to social functions she was always inexplicably invited to...and on this particular occasion that social function was JJ's latest rager. JJ was the most popular girl in school, due to being pretty and blonde and generally sweet...the kind of person who Emily would never in a million years become friends with without some kind of intermediary.
It seemed like the entire school had somehow crammed themselves into JJ's living room...which was making Emily's attempts to reach the kitchen in search of more alcohol decidedly difficult. She didn't mind so much the jostling (it reminded her of sneaking out to go to concerts with Matty and John...before everything had changed). At least, she didn't mind it until she was nearly knocked to the floor by a rather drunken party-goer, his entire bottle of beer being sloshed down her dress in the process.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" she hissed. She stomped her foot, then elbowed her way to the kitchen in search of a rag to dry off.
"I always thought I had that effect on girls," the guy who'd spilled his drink on her remarked with a lascivious smirk as he followed her.
She rounded on him to shoot him a death glare. "Excuse me?"
He opened his mouth to respond with something (hopefully) charming and witty, but couldn't seem to make the words come out. Possibly because her white sundress was now nearly see-through, exposing her bra. He leaned back against the fridge, partly to seem laidback and easygoing, partly because he didn't quite trust his sense of balance in his drunken state. "Can I...help you?" he stammered.
Emily seemed about to retort something snarky and acerbic when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted someone in the crowd... "Make out with me," she demanded.
"Wh-what?" he replied, the sound halfway between a question and a surprised cough.
Rather than waste time with explanations, Emily took hold of the front of his t-shirt and pulled him in to crash her lips against his.
After a few moments of awkwardness, he regained his wits and immediately flipped them so that Emily was pressed against the cold metal of the fridge. She shivered slightly – whether from the fridge against her bare back or the sensation of his tongue entering her mouth, she couldn't have said.
He wove his fingers in her hair, tugging slightly at the roots, making her whimper against his lips and she responded by raking her nails down his back and, when she reached the hem of it, she dragged it up just enough so that she could feel his warm skin beneath her palm.
When they pulled apart breathlessly, it took him a few moments to recover his senses before he cleared his throat and, just above a whisper, said, "Derek."
She shot him a quizzical look. "Pardon?"
"My name is Derek," he repeated, "Derek Morgan."
"And why are you telling me that?" she asked, partly to tease him, but mostly to put some kind of distance between them, even if he still had his arm wrapped around her shoulder, keeping her pressed into the warmth of his side. It wasn't easy to earn her trust and in spite of kissing him, she needed time to figure out this semi-stranger out.
With a little laugh, he said, "Well, for one thing, I'm pretty sure I'm wearing more of your lipstick than you are. For another..." He didn't have the chance to finish the thought as, in the next moment, a fist collided with his face.
Emily whirled around to see who the unexpected assaulter was...only to find a familiar face. "What the fuck, Andrew!?" she snapped.
Ignoring her entirely, Andrew stabbed a finger at Derek, demanding, "Stay away from my girlfriend, asshole!"
"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, Andrew," Emily declared, "We're over. Leave me the fuck alone." And, with that, she turned her attention back to Derek. Reaching over his head, she dug around in JJ's freezer, emerging with a bag of frozen peas which she promptly pressed to Derek's eye. "You don't look so good..." she informed him as he took a few wobbly steps.
Laughing, he declared, "You wound me, Princess..."
She rolled her eyes, grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the stairs to the upper floor, leaving the raucous of the party behind them.
Once she had him laid back on the bed in the guest room, she settled next to him on the edge of the mattress. She was attempting to examine his pupils for signs of concussion, while he did his best to resist.
"How can you already have an enemy here?" he asked, "You've only been at the school like month..."
She shrugged. "It's a long story."
He gave her a pointed look. "Where else do I have to be?"
With an annoyed sigh, she launched into the story, "Long story short, I actually met him when my mother was stationed in Colorado. We dated for awhile, but I was never really that into him, so I broke up with him."
"I guess he didn't get the message," he joked.
She didn't laugh, though, instead shaking her head to know it wasn't amusing.
"Anyway..." he said, changing the subject. "You don't talk about yourself much, huh?" At her raised brow, he continued, "For instance, I don't even know the name of the girl I took a punch for..."
"Emily," she murmured quietly.
With his most charming grin, he said, "Well, it's an honour to meet you – and take a punch for you."
She couldn't fight the small smirk that crossed her lips. "You're going to have one hell of a shiner," she told him. "I hope you won't get in too much trouble from your parents."
Tipping her a wink, he said, "Don't worry about that, Princess – as soon as I tell my mama I got this defending a beautiful girl, she'll make me some of her world famous peach cobbler." At her dubious expression, he teased, "Are you worried about me?"
"No," she insisted. "I'd just hate to be the cause of further suffering..."
"How about this..." he suggested, "You kiss it better and I'll call it even."
She promptly stood and Derek worried he'd crossed the line. "Are you leaving?"
She didn't say anything, merely shot him a smirk over her shoulder as she locked the door...
