Author's Note
Sat down for three hours to finish this, and now I have to use the bathroom like hell. So, please enjoy and review! Don't let my efforts and busted bladder be in vain!
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Twilight; only my odd assortment of OCs.
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"So, do you guys want to come?" Al asked, and I prayed that they would decline. No thanks. We've got a big test coming up that we need to study for. Sorry!, was the reply that my ears were itching to hear. But, as fate would have it, I got the exact opposite.
"Totally!" Brian said, beaming. "Just tell us when and where!"
As Al gave out the information, I mentally cursed Quil and his crazy hormones. I didn't know exactly what he was planning; all I knew was that it was going to be held down at the beach and it was going to be big, despite that I told Quil on numerous occasions that I just wanted a small, quiet party.
"Is it going to be big?" Janine asked, grimacing lightly. I nodded sadly.
"What's going to be big?" a voice sniffed. Tara scowled as Melanie dropped her books unceremoniously onto the ground, gracefully folding herself onto the grass.
"Cassie's birthday party," Mitchell said tonelessly, flipping a page in his textbook. Melanie turned her shrewd gaze onto me, narrowing her eyes into mine.
"Oh?" she asked. "When is it going to be…held?" I opened my mouth to tell her to mind her own business when Brian spoke over me.
"This Friday at First Beach," he said, so cheerfully I could have choked him. Melanie smiled at me—not kindly, but something that resembled the pure essence of evil.
"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you then?" Melanie said, not really asking, and I could only glare at her. After Melanie left, everyone in the group turned to glower menacingly at Brian.
"…What?" Brian asked innocently.
"You just invited the spawn of satan to the party!" Tara ground out. Brian huffed, putting both hands in the air in protest.
"Hey. I only told her when and where it was going to be. I, on no grounds, invited her to join us. Please. If anything, she invited herself," Brian said reasonably. I buried my head into my backpack, groaning softly. Janine patted my hair soothingly.
"Maybe it won't be all that bad, Cassie," Janine assured me. "Maybe she'll be…slightly pleasant for once." As good as that sounded, and as much I wished it would happen, I knew it wouldn't go down like that.
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I sat at my parents' dining table, shoveling around a sliver of cake on my plate with the prongs of the fork I was currently using. My parents were currently bickering over—you guessed it—grandchildren.
"Tara, Cassie is not going to give you fifteen grandchildren by the end of next year! It's practically impossible!" my father disputed emphatically. My mother rolled her eyes at him.
"She will if I say she will!" she growled. "Plus, since she'll be active with her boyfriend, it's very probable! You know how women on my side have always been very fertile!" I gagged on my cake as they carried on their very heated debate.
My dad's eyes bugged. "Cassidy broke up with Paul," he ground out. "She's not dating anyone, so the only way you could get grandchildren so quickly is if she, God forbid, started working the streets!"
"Maxwell!" Mom scolded. "Don't say such things! Why, look! You hurt your daughter's feelings!" She pointed to me as I struggled to swallow the cake I was choking on.
"I didn't hurt her feelings! She's feeling oppressed because her tyrant of a mother is forcing her to turn into a baby making machine!" Dad fought back.
As they squabbled, I pounded on my chest, trying to dislodge that pesky cake. But of course, my parents were too busy feuding to notice that I was, in fact, probably dying. I briefly wondered if they would even notice I was dead when they stopped fighting…
Finally, with one hard pound, the cake displaced itself and moved easily down to my stomach. I breathed heavily, trying to intake as much air as possible. When I caught my breath, I looked up to see my parents looking at me oddly.
"I was choking on my cake," I clarified, a little embarrassedly. My mom raised an eyebrow at me.
"Honey, that's silly," she said. "Why on earth would you do that?"
"Because her mother is oppressing her!" my father barked, which brought on another round of squabbling. I slunk down in my chair and pressed the bridge of my nose between my index finger and thumb. This was going to be a long night.
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"Bye, honey! Have a good time at your party!" my mom called as I started to pull out of the driveway.
"Not too much fun!" My dad yelled, and I could see my mom smacking him from my rearview mirror. As I drove down the streets, I contemplated what lie in front of me. Quil had been awfully shady about the whole thing, and I knew, paired up with Tommy, that he was up to no good. I had seen Paul cast me sympathetic looks, and I groaned, thinking that it confirmed my suspicions. Yes, despite my wishes, Quil was going to make the party huge.
Fifteen minutes later, I arrived at First Beach, wincing when I heard the loud music playing down by the bonfire. Hesitantly, I stepped out of the safe confines of my car and headed down the boardwalk to the sandy beach.
"Cassie, baby!" Quil boomed as I arrived by one of the snack tables, wrapping a sweltering arm around my shoulders. "Is this party beastin' or what!"
"I think I'll opt for the 'or what'," I said wryly, eyeing the array critically. There were tons of people dancing and laughing, most of which I didn't recognize. There were Happy Birthday! banners posted everywhere with hordes of balloons. And there were literally dozens of tables filled to the brim with food. I was surprised that they didn't buckle and break under all of the weight.
"Have you seen Paul?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too pathetic. It was just that I needed to see a familiar face, and he just seemed like the one who could understand me most. Quil grinned largely at me, nodding his head.
"Yeah. Last I seen him, he had been hanging around in the shade, trying to get rid of his nerves." I looked at Quil strangely, but he didn't say anything else, but just nodded to where he had last seen Paul with a mischievous smile.
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I searched for twenty minutes and couldn't find a trace of Paul. I sighed quietly and headed back to the bonfire. He'd show up later; there was plenty of time to talk.
The fire was blazing high in the sky, casting everybody in a bright orange glow. I spotted Tara getting herself a drink, scowling at a pair of drunken heathens. Feeling ultimately relieved, I quickly made my way to her and, without warning, I pounced on her, hugging her tightly.
"What the fu—Cassie! You scared me!" Tara scolded, her scowl dissipating into a teasing smile.
"I tend to have that effect on people," I joked lightly, releasing her from my death grip. "How long have you been here?" I asked, only to see the scowl come back on her face.
"Long enough to nearly get puked on, get somebody's drink spilled on my chest—which I have a feeling wasn't a total accident, and to get my ass squeezed like it was one of Janine's stress-relief balls. So, not really that long." Tara huffed indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. I chuckled, giving her another hug.
"It's okay," I comforted. "It could always be worse." Tara grumbled quietly to herself, but otherwise didn't protest. "Come on, why don't you show me where the rest of the gang is?" I suggested, taking her arm and letting her lead me away from the table. She guided towards the edge of the woods where I could make out silhouettes in the darkness. As we got closer, I could make out the faces of an irritated Mitchell trying to calm down a drunk Brian.
"Yaaaargh! I be J—," Brian hiccupped loudly. "Jack S-Sparrow of the high S-Seven Seas! Drink up, me hardies! Yo hooooooo!"
"Dammit, Brian!" Mitchell cursed, reaching to restrain the drunken fiend as he tried to do the dosey-do with him. Finally, Mitch just wrapped both arms around Brian, pinning his flailing limbs to his sides. Brian was quiet a moment before he looked into Mitch's eyes with a suspicious frown.
"Y-You have the hots for me, don't y-ya?" Brian stuttered, placing both hands on Mitch's chest. Mitchell's eye twitched as he flinched back from Brian's touch.
"Happy birthday to me…happy birthday to me…" I sang, grinning wickedly as Brian tried to place a kiss onto Mitch's reluctant mouth. It was always a good gift to see some yaoi up close and personal.
"Don't be afraid to slip in some tongue!" Tara cheered beside me, hooting as Mitch turned on heel and made a dash for the parking lot. Drunk Brian, undeterred, skipped after him, slurring his name as he called.
"C-Come on!" Brian called. "D-Don't you want to be my E-Elizabeth?"
Tara and I watched amusedly as Mitchell was assaulted by Brian, his cries for help drowned out by the loud music that was playing. Smiling happily, I turned to Tara.
"Where's the rest of the group?" I asked.
"Al went off to make-out with her boyfriend—by the way, she says happy birthday; Janine couldn't make it because her parents wanted her to watch her little brother since their babysitter flaked on them, and last I saw Melanie, she was chasing after some ex-boyfriend," Tara said, rolling her eyes. While it was annoying that Melanie was here at the party, it wasn't a bad thing that she was off chasing one of loser ex-boyfriends. In fact, it meant she couldn't possibly mess up my evening!
"That's great!" I said cheerfully, receiving an odd look from Tara. "Hey, why don't we go check out the bonfire?"
Tara shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, but I don't think I'm gonna stay much longer."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Me neither." Quil would understand, and I'd see the rest of the gang later. Together, we walked across the sandy beach over to the blaze. I could see Seth, Jake and Quil forking down hotdogs, and the girls were sitting in a neat little circle, tittering over something. Still no sign of Paul.
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After a full hour of torture, Tara had called it a night and left to go home. Yet, I still waited around for some sign of Paul, feeling just a little anxious. Something plopped down onto the sand beside me, and I turned to see a smiling Al.
"'Sup, birthday girl?" she asked, giving me a one-armed hug. I hugged her back, grinning as I took in her swollen lips.
"Is that a hickey I spy?" I teased, pointing to the dark spot on her neck. Al gave an embarrassed chuckle, rubbing at it self-consciously.
"No, it's the plague," she muttered sarcastically, and I laughed. "So, has Paul talked to you yet?" Al asked conversationally. I blinked slowly, confused.
"Was he supposed to talk to me?" I asked dubiously, causing Al to groan loudly.
"Ugh," she moaned. "He's acting like a total spaz!" Al flopped onto her back, glowering at the sky. I leaned back to look her in the eyes.
"Allison," I said seriously. "What is he supposed to talk to me about?" Al flopped onto her side to stare back at me, a slight pout on her lips.
"Embry will kill me if I told you," she grumbled. "But Paul—"
"Al!" Embry called, striding towards us quickly. He fixed a stern gaze on her, shaking his head slightly. Al winced slightly and turned away from his severe stare. Embry turn towards me, "Paul wants to talk to you in a minute," he said, sounding very tired. Before I could say anything, Embry had Al cradled in his arms and was toting her away from me, ignoring her threats and yells. I could only gape after them, not sure what to do.
I glowered nastily down at the ground before standing up. Suddenly, I couldn't care less if Paul wanted to talk with me, or if Quil would be upset that I hadn't done anything at the party. I was tired, and I needed to go home and just sleep it off. If Paul really wanted to talk to me, he could tell me later.
Muttering obscenities, I made my way through the thick crowd, neatly dodging sharp elbows and gangly limbs as they danced to the music. I could see Seth chugging down a liter of soda as I passed, people crowding around him and cheering.
"Seth! Seth! Seth! Seth!…" The sound nearly made me smile, but I was in too bad of a mood.
The sounds of the party faded as I approached the dark parking lot, squinting my eyes to locate my car. Blindly, I felt my way around, trying to remember where I had parked it.
"Come on. You know you want to…" I heard a familiar voice say seductively, and I wrinkled my nose. I really didn't want to hear two people get at it while I was searching for my car.
"Melanie, just back off," Paul ground out. My eyes widened, and I searched the dark to find him. There was a light scoff, and a bit of shuffling.
"Paul," Melanie said sulkily. "Come on. We can go to my place, if that's how you want it—"
"No, Melanie," Paul spat. "That's not how 'I want it'. I don't want 'it', especially if it's coming from you."
Melanie snorted. "Yeah, sure. That wasn't what you were saying a few months ago, for crying out loud! Good God, Paul. What's wrong with you?" There was more shuffling, and a warning growl from Paul. I strained my eyes to find the two.
"Why can't you just take the hint that I don't want you?" Paul snarled.
"Is this about that Chelsea chick?" Melanie sniffed, and there was another growl.
"Her name's Cassie," he seethed.
"Yeah, whatever. I don't even know what you see her, anyway. My God, she doesn't even have breasts!" I cringed slightly from the low blow, but happy that I could finally see the two. Paul was shaking at the sneering Melanie, and I could tell that he was trying his best to rein in his temper. I walked quickly to where they were, severely hoping that Paul wouldn't do anything stupid.
"Paul," I called, coming to an abrupt stop at his side. Melanie cursed beneath her breath as I took one of Paul's quaking hands into my own, squeezing gently. The tremors diminished, and he unfisted his hand to grab mine tightly.
I tugged, trying to pull him away from Melanie. "Let's go home, Paul," I said soothingly, tugging again. Paul stepped towards the car, following me as I guided him bit by bit.
"So, you'd go with her, but not me?" Melanie asked dubiously. I ignored her insult, focusing on trying to get Paul to the car before he really lost his temper. Paul snarled quietly, but made no move to pummel her.
"Come on, Paul," I urged, pulling. There was a snort from behind us.
"You may have him for tonight, Cassie," she sneered my name. "But just remember that he screamed my name before he even knew you existed—" My fist connected with her nose with a soundly crunch. Melanie screamed in pain and alarm, clutching her gushing nose. Paul grabbed me and towed me into the woods. I numbly recognized that the path he was taking us to Emily's, but the scene was replaying over and over in my mind.
I just punched Melanie in the face…I broke her nose!
Paul lifted me into his arms and pushed open the front door of the house. He flicked on the lights, illuminating the dark rooms and made his way to the kitchen. Gently, he placed me on top of the counter and dug through the drawers.
I bit my lip ashamedly as I looked at my hand—the one I had punched Melanie with. It was scraped and bleeding, and I could barely move my fingers. Already it was coloring.
Paul grunted as he found the first aid kit, popping it open and grabbing some cotton swabs and disinfectant. Gently, almost tenderly, he took my damaged in his. Paul looked up at me, rather apologetic.
"This is going to hurt a little," he said softly, and I nodded my head bravely. I winced only slightly at the stinging sensation as he sprayed down my cuts. Expertly, he dabbed them over with the swabs, looking up every few seconds to make sure I was okay. When he was done, Paul grabbed some bandages from the white box and began to wrap it around my hand. It hurt a little because he had to wrap it tightly, but I knew he was trying to do it as gently as he could.
"Paul?" I asked as he threw away the used swabs. "Are you mad at me?" Dark brown eyes flashed to me, widened in surprise and indignation.
"Why would I be mad at you?" Paul asked, half-angrily. I simply shrugged my shoulders, looking down dejectedly at my hands. Long russet fingers tilted my chin up, making me look back into his smoldering gaze.
"Cassidy," Paul said sternly. "I am not, nor have I ever been angry with you, and I never will be. Understand?" I nodded under his intense gaze, slightly dazzled by his bottomless eyes. Slowly, he traced my lower lip with his thumb, and I trembled. Paul's eyes darkened as he glared at my lips.
"Cassie," Paul said roughly. "Can I kiss you?" No sooner than did I nod, his lips crashed into mine, his arms gripping my hips tightly. I threaded my fingers through his hair and kissed back just as eagerly. I couldn't help but smile against his warm lips, feeling complete for the first time in months.
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"Paul?" I asked, slightly distracted as he peppered kisses over my shoulder and my neck.
"Hmm?" he asked, nipping at my sensitive neck. I tightened my grip on his shoulders while I tried to get a hold over myself and my racing pulse.
"Wha—" the word caught in my throat, and I tried again. "What did you want to talk about earlier?" Paul stopped his kisses and pulled back to look at me. The intense look was back, mixed with something else I couldn't identify.
"Could we talk about this tomorrow?" he asked quietly.
"Sure," I answered back, just as quiet. I didn't want to push him, especially right after we had just gotten back together.
Relief sparked in Paul's dark eyes, and he smiled at me. He placed his lips on top of mine, moving them slowly. As my left hand knotted in his thick hair, my right hand moved slowly down and placed itself over his chest. His heartbeat thundered under my palm, and I sighed against his lips. Feeling a little bit mature, I wrapped my legs around his hips, and grinned internally as Paul's kiss got more urgent.
"Why are the lights on—Paul! Cassie!" Quil shrieked. "Quit doing each other on the counter! Have you two no shame?!"
"Nope," Paul murmured against my lips, and I giggled.
"Well, you guys might want to go and find a cheap motel or something before Emily gets here and finds you two dirtying up her kitchen! Good gravy, man! I'll never be able to look at this place and not want to throw up…" With a groan, Paul pulled away from me, disentangling himself.
"Quil, could you put up the first aid kit for us? Thanks, you're a real pal," Paul said, lifting me up into his arms and walked past the offended Quil.
Paul walked out of the house and towards the back where I could make out his truck. He placed me in the passenger's side, buckling me up before he stepped into the driver's.
"Do you want to go ahead and get your car from the beach?" he asked, and I shook my head. I could get it tomorrow. Paul smiled at me before turning the key in the ignition, and pulled easily out of the driveway. He grabbed my hand in his, encasing it in warmth. The heat radiating off of Paul lulled me to sleep, leaving a smile pasted on my face even as I dreamed.
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I especially like the dinner with her parents. I don't know why though...
A little rusty on the romance part, so please forgive me. Also for the terrible writing. I'm rather out of practice. So, please review, and I'll try to get the next chapter up ASAP.