An accompaniment to 'The Three Calls'. Hopefully, it's as good as that one. Enjoy.
She wants to remember that night. The party that had caused all this mess. It was her fault, yes, but she wouldn't have done anything if it hadn't been for that party.
She closes her eyes and leans back into the comforting arms of Nick.
-She coughs. She's been to numerous parties before but this one seems crazier than the other ones for some reason. Five feet into the house and Mike, the quarterback, is already offering her a joint. She shakes her head, not really into that kind of scene. She prefers alcohol; not that that was any better.
She goes around the room, saying hello to the necessary people and nodding to the ones who she is only acquainted with. Mickee and her cronies are already there, throwing themselves all over the boys that they deem as their 'loved ones'. She snorts and listens to Bert, who's talking about the best game that they've played as of yet.
Before she knows it, she's in the kitchen, filling up her second cup with something that tastes like her dad's bottles that he keeps locked in his study. It is bitter and it burns her throat, but she feels high and numb. 'Dizzy', she also notes when she stumbles and nearly falls but is caught by strong familiar hands. Harley Benson stares at her and she feels herself heat up. She giggles her 'thanks' to him and smoothes her shirt, continuing her path towards the stairs.
She is glad she hadn't overdressed. Stella would've probably demanded her to make an appearance in an original custom-made by her, but that would've been too much for this low-key party. Not many people are there. Just the team and a couple of friends of each of the players which are basically the same people, when she thinks about it.
She glances upwards and groans, realizing that the couples lining the sides of the stairs aren't there by choice; they are waiting for the bathroom. She sighs and chews on her lip. She shrugs and climbs the stairs, following her original plan.
She reaches the top and smiles. She knows the layout of this house pretty well, having visited after some gruesome practices. The guys let her hang out whenever she wants and she is grateful for that.
She gazes around and quickly sneaks into a bedroom that has a private bathroom. She sets her cup onto a nearby desk. She hurries into the bathroom and relieves herself. After washing her hands, she fixes her hair a bit but her vision is too hazy to do anything more than smooth the fly-aways down. 'Maybe I don't have to smoke it to get high,' she ponders, finally recognizing that the fog that permeates most of the first floor is the smoke being produced by the guys with the bud.
She bursts out of the bathroom and is shocked to find someone in the room with her. The music pounds even louder than before and he doesn't hear the noise that she makes.
"I…uh…I, um-hi?" She stammers, blushing all of a sudden, as his piercing gaze settles on her. He smiles but doesn't reply. She shuffles towards him and, after a moment of hesitation, sits down next to him. Harley stays motionless besides her.
Whatever she has drunk is making her skin feel like it's on fire and breathe quickly and shallowly. She closes her mouth and wills herself to calm down.
Her hand, as if it had a mind of its own, moves onto his lap and stays there. "Are you okay?" She hears herself slur. He looks at her again, studying every inch of her. Any exposed skin she has he's eyeing it like he wants to kiss it and she shivers uncontrollably.
His breathing is deep, she notices, and he appears wild. "He's drunk, you idiot." Her mind tells her. She chances a discreet glance at his lips, but no such luck. He sees that and pounces on her, gently settling her down on the bed.
Macy doesn't know what is wrong with her. If she had been sober, she would've objected to this kind of behavior. But as it is, she is fucked. One cup and a half already has her mind spinning. Everybody always told her she was a light-weight.
The rest of that part is a little blurry and all she can remember is the lust building up beneath her skin, searching for a way to escape. Clothes are discarded and finally, there are no barriers between them.
He does something and then he's in there and she can't describe the pain. Her cries are muffled by his kisses and she grips onto him with all the strength she has left.
He finishes then, so abruptly, she almost doesn't realize what has just happened.
He pulls off of her and sits up, sliding his boxers to his hips and buckling his pants. He fixes his hair and leaves.
She lays there for a while, trying to figure out what she has done, but her thoughts are swimming around and she can't grasp onto any one in particular.
She stifles her shout as she makes a move for her clothes and carefully puts them on.
Next thing she knows, she's back downstairs, downing a fourth cup and laughing hysterically at something Albert Peminsky has said.
Another hour and she realizes she doesn't know how to get home.
She flips her phone open and thanks god that she has Stella on speed-dial.
She isn't completely sure if Stella understands her, but then she's there and she's really intimidating.
She carries Macy out of the room and into the car and then they arrive at her house.
The last thing she can remember with perfect clarity is seeing Stella perched on one of her squishy chairs and the light pink covers up to her chin.-
Macy squeezes her eyes tighter, the tears leaking onto the arm that is around her. She refuses to whimper, and instead buries her face into him. She can't believe her first time was so uneventful. She knew the act itself was fast but it hadn't even been with someone special. She curses herself mentally, something she's used to.
Opening her eyes, she settles her gaze on the wall opposite the bed and stays that way until she falls asleep again. This time Nick is awake and he studies her sweetly, wishing Macy's demons away and hoping that she'll get better as time goes by. He knows losing one's child is unlike anything he's experienced but he anticipates that Macy will share her burden and let someone help her with her misery. He shuts his eyes and inhales the innocent smell of strawberries coming off of Macy's hair and listens to the music quietly playing.
In that moment, he knows he's become something more than just a friend to Macy. With that thought, he tightens his hold on her and succumbs to sleep once more.
I didn't like the way it ended. It feels like there's more to it. But I didn't really know any other way to end it, so I left it that way.