Authors Note:
Hi! Oh my gosh, it's me! Mariah? Remember me? No?
… Sweet. I'm gunna keep talking anyway. It's how Iz roll.
So. I sorta gave up on fanfiction a while ago (see my profile for details), and the only time I come back to the site is when I see an "Edroar the Angry Lion" update (Tropical Sorbet) or a "The Tongue Set Free" update (georgeygirl).
As any of you following Edroar will now how nuttily delicious the story is, if not frequently updated. So it was as I was bemoaning this that I realised. Uh. Hullo. I haven't updated my story for, like, two years. Who am I to whinge!
Then I rationalised a) No one is reading my story in 2011, and b) I have MAAAAJOR writers block with it anyway. I've started chapter 24 maybe three times in three years, and it's still only two pages.
However I did write a chapter in 2008, and I was wondering how I would ever slot it in. It doesn't really fit in the plot, but it's so freaking hilarious (if I do say so myself! Funny drunks are great, and Melinda is no exception,) that there was no way I would delete it.
It's set somewhere after Nick and Melinda break up, but before the ghostly shit hits the fan.
I then thought about the lovely review I got from "I want to be Jesse's Girl" in 2010, and one from "eViL Isabelle" in 2011, asking for updates and saying generally lovely things.
So if there are two people who want to read The Daughter Of, then they shall!
So here it is. This is dedicated to "I want to be Jesse's Girl" and "eViL Isabelle". I hope you like it.
2009 Authors Note:
I forgot that the drinking age in America is 21. In New Zealand it is eighteen, and I went with that. So with that in mind, Scott and the others were NOT breaking the law or anything in this chapter.
Melinda's case is a little different, but if you haven't figured out by now that Melinda could never in a million years be confused for a role model, then you're on something.
And it's something that I hope that you will share.
KIDDING, KIDDING.
Drugs are bad. Underage drinking is bad. So is Sex. And Stay in school. "Denny Crane."
Party In My Pants
'Why don't you,' a deep voice to the right of me suggested, 'just go and talk to him?'
I looked at Scott incredulously.
That would have to be the worst idea that I had ever heard. And that's counting all the shit that Stacy used to come up with. "Yeah,sureweshouldplaytagintheantiqueshop.That'sagreatideaStacy... "
'Scott. Come on. Does it looklike he cares if I talk to him or not?'
We both turned our eyes back to the closely entwined couple nestled up in one of the elegant beige plush armchairs that littered the floor of the Slater's downstairs lounge. "Cuddle Couches" was, I believe, Chenaol's little term for them.
Of course, the couple was Nick and some blonde, big tits, small brain wannabe Playboy bunny.
I sighed quietly to myself.
Hey, hey, you know what, playboy bunny? I bet Hef has a wrinkly COCK! HAHAHAHAHA—
That's not funny, is it?
No.
Scott leaned closer to me and lowered his voice to say, 'Yeah, but that's just shit,' he spoke with the easy conviction of a spectator rather than a participant. 'If you ask me—'
Which was the furthest thought from my mind . . .
'—He's just as miserable as you are.'
And THAT, Scott, is why no one "asks you". Because your opinion? It's dumb. Your opinion is dumb.
I would have been better off writing in to Aunt Aggie.
'Really?' I replied, not entirely able to refrain from sarcasm, 'because he's doing a bang up job of pretending otherwise!'
Oh, would you look at that. Him and his blonde slut have begun to swap saliva.
Gather round, its fun for the whole family!
Oh, kiss my ass.
Scott ignored my sarcasm and nodded knowingly, observing the free entertainment Nick was only too happy to provide with an almost clinical detatchment. 'Yeah. But men are different to chicks. Fact of life.'
Oh my God.
Hey, Dr Phil! Guess what mate, I found you a new consultant!
Yeah, okay, he once stole a monkey from a zoo and tried to keep it in his bedroom, and YES, okay, the best observation he can come up with is "Men are different to chicks" . . . But he'll do won't he?
'Life SUCKS,' I answered violently.
'Whoa,' Scott leaned back and surveyed me with raised eyebrows. 'Who—'
'Peed in my cornflakes, yeah yeah, I know.'
'Oh, fuck UP Melinda! It's just how some guys grieve, Ok?'
I snorted. 'You fuck up. Guys aren't EVEN that different to chicks. They just SAY they are, and then use that as an excuse.'
'No, it's true,' Scott insisted. 'Dunno why . . . it just is.' He rapped his forehead twice with his fist and adapted what I assumed was his knowledgeable look, having never seen him adopt such an expression before. 'I know these things, Melinda. I'm a guy.'
I smiled slightly, 'That's debatable,'
Other than to aim a punch in the vicinity of my shoulder, he ignored this, and took another drink of whatever it was he had in the can he was holding.
'Seriously though, Scott,' I continued. 'Guys might choose to call THAT—' I swung my arm in the direction of Nick and Slut, still sucking face, '"grieving" but I'm telling you right now that that is NOT Grieving. And if YOU ever feel the need to go off and 'grieve' at any point in your relationship with Arabia, you should know that she'll either kill you herself, or pay someone to do it.'
Coz daddy would probably buy her a mob if she asked nicely.
'Don't be so dramatic,' Scott grumbled. 'There's no need.'
'There is . . .' my voice shrunk to a whisper, and my eyes slid off Scott's face to stare at the ground. 'Because she'd feel like her life had turned into one big surreal joke . . . a joke with no punch line that just never ends . . . and everyone's laughing . . .'
Scott grabbed me firmly by the shoulder and forced me to face him. 'Melinda." He growled, "You're being a freak.'
'I am a freak, Scott.' I couldn't stop a whiney quality entering my voice. I turned looked at Scott with dull eyes. 'I'm a freak who belongs in a shiny white room . . .'
He had to grin. 'Yeah, well, I can't argue with that . . . .' he teased. Then he slung an arm around me and squeezed me into him. 'Come on. Let's get you a drink.'
'Yes,' I replied sarcastically, 'because alcohol has done such a bang up job of fixing the rest of the world's problems.'
Hey, you! Ethiopian orphan! Cheer up you don't need food! Here, have a drink. Or better yet, HERE, have some COCAINE. Yeah, you like that . . .
Oh look! I think Nick's slut just DRIBBLED.
I took the brightly coloured bottle Scott was offering. 'Thanks.'
Was I worried about being underage? No. Scott's eighteen; he can be responsible for me; because I'm sick of being responsible; sick of doing "The Right Thing".
"The Right Thing" has only ever hurt me.
Speaking of being responsible . . . Who the hell would sell alcohol to Scott?
The guy stole a monkey.
You would think the police would have that on record somewhere . . . or even just have scribbled it on a post-it note . . .?
'You're welcome—but just that one, and take your time. I need you to carry ME home tonight, no way will I be carrying you,' Scott joked, grinning at me. 'Unless you're good to crash here? Then . . .'
I looked at him—glared, really—and he shut up.
'So . . . That's a no?'
'No,' I confirmed.
It had been naive of me to assume that coming here, to the Slater's house, wouldn't have affected me. I should have had the foresight to anticipate the painful memories that awaited me here . . .
Although I couldn't really blame Nick for that. Ibroke up with him. I'mthe heartless bitch here.
You could say I had it coming. That I deserved it.
I sighed and prised the lid off my bottle before lifting it to my lips and tasting the contents.
Perhaps if I'd bothered to read the label—or indeed the alcohol percentage—of whatever it was that I'd begun to drink, my night might have turned out a little differently.
. . . It didn't actually taste all that shit hot, I decided, pulling a face.
I'd never had alcohol before, and to be honest, I had been expecting something a little more fabulous, with so many regulars at Alcoholics Anonymous.
Must just be a great was to meet that special someone then, Alcoholics Anonymous . . .
We sat there for quite a while, just drinking in companionable silence, until Scott, interrupting my dwellings, said to me, "Hey, you wanna come over and see Rhys and them with me?'
I absentmindedly took another long swallow as I deliberated. 'Boys?' I asked, lowering the bottle and dragging a hand over my mouth.
Scott gave me a look that clearly conveyed his opinion on my mental health. "Freak" was the word that he had used earlier.
Boy; was he ever onto something there.
'Yes Melinda, "Boys". Sort of like chicks, but with COCKS.'
'Yes. Cocks. And different grieving process'.' I reminded him, taking another large mouthful of the sharp liquid.
It didn't taste so bad once you got used to it.
He grinned. 'Now you're getting it. Come on.'
'Also,' I said, looking back over at Nick and Slut, 'guys are completely incapable of NOT acting like anal hoebags.'
Scott frowned at me. 'That didn't even make sense.'
I took Scott's offered hand and he pulled me up off the couch. Then I grabbed my now almost empty bottle and took another long swig as I slung my arm through his. Then I said, "Yeah, but I'm Melinda. Do I EVER make sense?'
'Not really, no.' Scott teased me as he lead me out onto the veranda, where his friends were. The friends with cocks, who are easily confused between a SKANK and a GRIEF OUTLET.
'Hey,' Scott greeted the group of boys sprawled over the Slater's beautiful outdoor furniture. 'You guys know Melinda? Melinda, meet these guys.'
'Guys suck,' was my greeting.
'No,' one of Scott's mates joked immaturely, 'Chicks do."
I laughed 'You know what? You're so right,' I agreed, still giggling. Giggling at myself really. Honestly. I'm such a DUMB fuck. 'That's because girls are stupider than guys.' I winked at Scott. 'Fact of life.'
'I reckon I like Melinda drunk,' laughed a different guy. This one was Rhys, I think.
'Melinda is NOT drunk,' I denied proudly, saluting them with my drink. Then I happened to notice that my bottle was, in fact, empty. 'Oh. Fuck. Does anyone have another of these . . .?'
Rhys offered me the one he'd just uncapped.
'Thanks!'
You know, this stuff is actually kinda really good.
AND it's in pretty coloured bottles. Which is good, because who doesn't like pretty things?
NICK definitely likes pretty things. Such as pretty girls. Well, no actually, he prefers girls who are sluts . . . But you have to be pretty to be one of Nick's sluts, so it's all the same really.
Yes, for the privilege of having Nick Slaters tongue in your mouth, you have to be both PRETTY and a SLUT.
Or, like me, just really DUMB.
'Hi-fucking-fives to the people who make this shit,' was what I said aloud, beginning to drink. This one tasted different . . . It was all sweet. Fruity somehow.
Cool.
'Yeah,' agreed another of the guys, talking directly to one of his mates now. This ones name was . . . Sam? Maybe? I don't really know. 'I think I like Melinda drunk too. '
'I think Melinda should sit the fuck down,' Scott instructed me frowning slightly.
Funny, I've never seen Scott serious.
Or maybe I've just never taken him seriously.
Whatever.
Whichever.
. . . Penguins.
Hahahahahahaha!
'You can sit here Melinda,' Rhys grinned, indicating to his lap.
'Face down?' I enquired politely. God I'm funny.
They roared with laugher.
For the first time in forever, it felt so good to just not CARE . . . I was completely free to say—and do—whatever the fuck I wanted.
'Melinda . . .' Scott warned, as I slid down to sit in Rhy's lap.
I ignored him. 'Ooh, I love this song!'
AYO Technology by 50cent and Justin Timberlake.
Obviously someone in the lounge shared my feelings and turned up the volume, for what had previously been a rhythmic background noise was now intensified a hundredfold; sound surged out from the huge expensive speakers that were in the lounge, the beat pounding and thumping, the melody compulsive.
Sheworkitgirl,sheworkthepole
Shebreakitdown,shetakeitlow
Shefineashell,sheaboutthedough
Shedoingherthingoutonthefloor
Hermoneymoney,shemakin'makin'
Lookatthewaysheshakin'shakin'
Makeyouwanttotouchit,makeyouwanttotasteit
Haveyoulustin'forher,gocrazyfaceit
Nowdon'tstop,getit,getit
Thewaysheshakin'makeyouwanttohitit
Thinkshedoublejointedfromthewayshesplitted
Gotyou'reheadfuckedupfromthewayshedidit
She'ssomuchmorethanyou'reusedto
Sheknow'sjusthowtomovetoseduceyou
Shegonedotherightthingandtouchtherightspot
Danceinyou'relaptillyou'rereadytopop
I began to gently sway my body in time with the music, knowing full well that I was still sitting on Rhys. I just didn't care.
And I was in a good mood. Finally I was beginning to have fun again.
Shealwaysready,when you want itshewantit
Like a nympho, the info, I show you where to meet her
On the late night, till daylight the club jumpin'
If you want a good time,shegonegiveyouwhatyouwant
I reached an arm up behind me to put around Rhy's neck and slowly rolled my body up.
'Yeah . . .' Rhys drawled to his mates. 'She's gagging for it . . .'
I took another drink.
Then I leaned right back against Rhys and breathed into his ear, 'Maybe . . .'
Hello, it's not like it even mattered. They were just WORDS. Word don't mean anything, do they Nick? Words like "I love you".
Don't mean anything . . .
Rhys grinned moved his hand a little higher up my leg as he took another long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out in a thick cloud.
The smoke danced around me, the scent heavy and disorientating.
I'd never smoked either . . .
Rhys, seeing me watching, offered me the filter end of his smoke.
I didn't hesitate.
I leaned forwards and willingly placed the end of the cigarette between my lips and sucked a little as Rhys held it for me.
. . . Um . . . tastes NOTHING like it smells . . .
Ok . . . choking, CHOKING OVER HERE . . . throat hurts . . . OM MY FUCKING GAWD-
WAIT!.
ACT COOL MELINDA.
As Rhys watched intently, I ignored my sharp burning need to cough, and the itching in my nose and tilted my chin upwards, blowing the smoke up in the air.
Rhys was grinning as he took his smoke back and replaced it in his own mouth.
I then twisted my head so I could began to kiss Rhys's neck, but was interrupted when Scott reached out and put a heavy hand on my knee, no trace of humour in his eyes now. 'Melinda. Stop it, honestly.'
'Sure,' I agreed, still running with my new "words don't mean anything" freedom.
Let me talk to ya
Baby it's a new age, you're like my new craze
Let'sgettogether maybe we can startanew phase
The smokes got the club allhazy, spotlights don't do you justice baby
Why don't you comeoverhere, you got me saying
Aayoo
I'm tired of USING technology, whydon'tyousitdownontopofme?
Aayoo
I'm tired of using technology, Ineedyourightinfrontofme
Ooh, shewantsit, uh uh, she wants it
Ooh, she wants it (soo), Igottogiveittoher
Ooh, she wants it, uhuh, she wants it
Ooh, shewantsit (soo), Igottogiveittoher
I shook my hair out and let Rhys grasp my hips and pull me around, so I was now facing him, while I kneeled over his lap.
Yeah, I was straddling him.
And what?
Instead of this seeing this as a reality check, it only served to encourage me. I placed my hands on his chest and began to rotate my hips in time with the music.
Rhy's wound his arms around my hips and held me tightly against his body.
Yourhips,your thighs, they gotmehypnotized, let me tell you
Your hips,yourthighs, they got me hypnotized, let me tell you
Your hips,your thighs, they got me hypnotized, let me tell you
Your hips, yourthighs, they gotmehypnotized, let me tell you
Got a thing for that thing she got
The way she make it tick, thewayshemakeitPOP
Make it rain for us so shedon'tstop
I ain't got to move, I can sitandwatch
Inherfantasy,there's plain to see
Justhowitbe,onme,backstrokin',sweatsoaking
Allintomysetsheets
Whenshereadytoride,I'mreadytoroll
I'llbeinthisbitch till the club close
What should I do, onethingonallfours
Now that that shit should be againstthelaw
From sidetoside,lettheride,breakitdown(downdown)
You know I like, whenyouhike and youthrowitallaround
Different style, different move, damnIlikethewayyoumove
Girl you got me thinking about, all thethingsIdotoyou
Let'sgetitpoppin'shortywecanswitchpositions
Fromthecouchtothecountersinmykitchen
'You're nice tonight Melinda,' Rhys murmured, as he moved his hands down from my hips and replaced them on my thighs, running them upwards and sliding them under the hem of my cut-off denim mini skirt. There he paused and began to drum his fingertips on the skin of my thighs.
Yeah ok, the guy had his hands up my skirt. Big fucking deal.
Who's holding that against me?
Certainly not Rhys.
I had paired the indigo wash denim cut-off skirt with bright yellow stilettos, very glossy and very high, and a clinging black long sleeve top, with a square neckline, and my hair loose and wavy.
YEAH, I looked hot. No WONDER Rhys was so determined to get into me. I really am really really hot.
REALLY hot.
Nick doesn't agree, but these guys here seem to, so fuck him.
Let me talk to ya
Baby it's a new age, you're like my new craze
Let's get together maybe we can startanewphase
The smokes got the club all hazy, spotlights don't do you justice baby
Why don't you comeoverhere, you gotmesaying
Aayoo
I'm tired of using technology, whydon'tyousitdownontopofme?
Aayoo
I'm tired of using technology, Ineedyourightinfrontofme
Ooh, shewantsit, uh uh, shewantsit
Ooh, she wants it (soo), Igottogiveittoher
Ooh, she wants it, uh uh, she wants it
Ooh, shewantsit (soo), I got to giveit to her
Your hips, yourthighs, they got me hypnotized, let me tell you
Your hips, yourthighs, they got me hypnotized, let me tell you
Yourhips, your thighs, they got me hypnotized, let me tell you
Your hips, yourthighs, they got me hypnotized, let me tell you
I was certainly as good looking as one of Nick's sluts and CLEARLY just as easy . . .
'Feel like coming for a walk with me Melinda?' Rhys asked.
Good euphemism there Rhysie. By walk you mean sexinthepoolshed, right?
Nevertheless . . .
I smiled at him, grabbing my bottle and sculling the rest of it back in one go. 'Sure!'
Lets go have me some sex!
'NO!' Scott yelled at me. 'MELINDA! YOU—'
I didn't hear whatever it was that Scott thought I was, because that's when Chad appeared.
I grinned happily up at him. 'Chad!' I squealed, dislodging Rhy's hands and struggling to my feet—probably flashing everyone, but it wouldn't even be the first time tonight, so who gives a shit—so I could throw my arms around him.
He patted me slowly on the back, confused, no doubt.
'Come and sit wimme, Chad,' I instructed, throwing myself down into a deck chair and tugging him down on top of me.
'Melinda . . .?' he pulled himself off me and knelt down by my chair instead.
I pouted.
'Are you OK?'
'I am Jim FUCKING dandy, Chad. Just Jim fucking dandy.'
God hates liars, doesn't he?
Meh. I'm pretty sure that God already hates me. My life is what He does to amuse himself in his spare time.
Otherwise He wouldn't be PLAYING WITH ME like this.
Speaking of toys . . .
I smiled at Chad pleasantly. 'How about you?'
He smiled weakly back. 'Yeah. Me too. Jim fucking whatever it was.'
I love a man who will agree with whatever I say.
'Wait,' said one of the more intoxicated members of our party. 'Whose fucking Jim?'
'Me,' I beamed at him. 'I'll fuck anyone.'
That made him sit up a little straighter, I tell you.
'Ok,' said Scott firmly, 'Chad, give me a hand—'
I then found myself seized, Scott on one side, Chad on the other—it was a team effort, you understand—and escorted away from my new friends, most of which who had begun to look at me with a nasty sort of stare.
'HEY!' I protested.
How HUMILIATING.
Well, it could have been worse. At least I wasn't slung over anyone's shoulder. My skirt was a bit too short for that sort of carry on.
'CHAD. SCOTT. Let me go or I SWEAR I will get all karate kid on yo asses!'
I heard a sigh.
Then just as we got inside, I was released and guided down onto a sofa.
'There was no need,' I said snottily, sticking my hands down my bra to adjust my boobs in my top—Chad and Scot kinda stared a little, looking a little taken aback at my complete lack of inhibition, 'for that.' '
'Yeah. There was.' Scott answered. 'Stay there, I'm going to get you a drink.'
I perked up.
He saw this, and glared. 'COFFEE.'
Well excuse me for being optimistic!
Scott left to go and get the Coffee and it was just myself and Chad.
Escape really wasn't an option. The guy's huge. And can run way faster than me. Quarterback or whatever. As if reading my thoughts, Chad smiled wryly and placed a restraining hand on my shoulder.
Ok, I thought, Ok, I can work with this . . . just got to adapt my strategy a little . . .
That's when it happened.
I felt someone looking at me.
You know how you do? Well, anyway.
I glanced up and found myself staring directly into the penetrating ice blue stare of Nick Slater. He stared openly at me, blatantly ignoring his slut, who had begun to kiss her way down his throat.
God. WHO DOES THAT?
What a slut THATgirl is. NO self respect.
I shivered, and found myself unable to look away from Nick's intense stare.
What surprised me was that he wasn't actually looking all that shit hot. He had dark shadows under his eyes and heavy creases between his eyebrows.
Although that could have been because he was looking at me.
Either that or his slut just sucked out one of his fillings.
Your guess is as good as mine. I deliberately broke eye contact and turned back to Chad. 'Was it just me,' I said to Chad brightly, 'Or does Nick look just a little bit homicidal?'
Chad sighed. 'Yes. But I reckon I would probably be the first choice for a brutal murdering. You however, might clock up a close second.'
That invoked my curiosity. 'Why am I only second?' I was kinda offended. All I did and only second place to show for it? NUH UH! 'What'd you do?'
He gazed meaningfully down at his hand, still resting on my shoulder in reply.
'What? . . . huh? . . . that's . . . that's FUCKED UP.'
Then I remembered Nick's words to me on the beach.
"Bet Chad found that a bit of a laugh. Me telling him to stay away from my girlfriend when he knew all along that it was HIS cock you'd been sucking to pass the time"
Oh, Yeah, okay. It's all coming back to me now.
'Yeah . . . But shit happens. Anyway, don't tell Scott I did this—' Chad got up off the couch, '—and you wait here. I mean it.'
I shrugged, and did as was asked.
Not only was I beginning to feel like I wanted to vomit, but also things were getting a little hazy, and I thought that if I tried to move I might fall down.
It wasn't long before Chad came back, with one big bottle of clear liquid and two little glasses.
SCORE!
But damn. Those glasses were TINY. Where's the tumblers at, oi?
But who am I to turn down free alcohol?
Scott handed a glass to me and grinned at my thrilled expression as he sloshed some of the clear liquid into the glass. 'Here. Anyone who got anywhere near that cunt Nick Slater and survived deserves it.'
I blinked in surprise at the venom in his voice before I remembered that there wasn't exactly any love lost between these two.
In fact I distinctly remembered Nick saying:
I was perfectly within my rights to threaten to bash the cunts face in . . .
Shrugging it off, I said to Chad, 'I fucking love you.'
'Yeah,' Chad flexed a bicep. 'They all feel that way.'
I laughed loudly and lifted my small glass to my mouth, throwing it back.
—EWWWWW! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS? IT TASTED LIKE SHIT!
THAT WAS THE WORST THING I HAVE EVER TASTED IN MY LIFE! IT TASTED LIKE DISINFECTANT! OR—OR SHIT! OR SOMETHING!
And yet.
I grabbed the big bottle off Chad and refilled my little glass.
What the hell.
I drained the second glass, pulling a face.
But you know what? My horrible throw up feeling was now totally cured! AND the FUCK-the-walls-are-moving feeling? CURED as well!
They should definitely put me on the whole Cancer case.
Because I fully have the answer.
CLEAR ALCOHOL THAT COMES IN THE BIG BOTTLES THAT YOU HAVE TO DRINK IN SMALL GLASSES!
I'm a fucking genius. Trophy please.
'Well, how could they not,' Chad continued, still waving his arm around.
God. The guy's STILL talking about his biceps? God. Am I keeping you from something there Chad? Would you like to make out with yourself now?
'Go on. Have a feel. You know you can't resist me.'
I rolled my eyes. Then I made a big show of leaning over and groping Chad's bicep. 'Oh Chad!' I exclaimed in a breathless voice, 'Oh wow! You're muscles are so amazingly HARD!'
He winked, and then said in a really loud voice, 'WELL IF IT'S HARD THAT YOU'RE AFTER MELINDA . . .' he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and indicated to his crotch.
A loud slam made me jump, and I looked up to see Nick, having slammed his drink down on the table, get up and drag his slut out of the room, letting the door crash shut behind him.
"Whoa." I muttered. "What the fuck's up his ass?"
When I looked back to Chad I caught a triumphant expression on his face. When he caught me looking at him though, he quickly moulded his face into a grin, and ignored my curious gaze.
. . . What was that?
Ah well. Who cares? I thought, as I shrugged it off and continued to knock back more of the yucky tasting stuff.
NOT ME.
. . . caring, that is.
Not me CARING.
Wait, no, that's not right.
Ah well. In other news . . . Bigbirdtakesituptheass!
I'd had another little glass of THE COOL STUFF (that is what I shall call it. THE COOL STUFF,) when Chad suggested that Scott would have found and figured out the coffee maker by now, so we'd better disappear.
He took my hand and led me out of the room and I was a little too completely and utterly off my face to notice that it was the same door through which Nick had left by earlier that we were now departing from.
And even if I HAD noticed, I probably still would not have been lucid enough to think anything of it.
'Ok MELINDA!' Chad yelled, 'Which way!'
He made it sound exciting, like a game, so I thought nothing of screaming back excitedly, 'The Pool! Let's go to the pool!'
I hadn't even considered Chad might NOT have been as fucked as I was at that time, and not, like me, yelling for fun, but because he wanted to be heard.
'OK!'
We ran out the door, past Rhys and buddies who attempted to delay me with a slurred 'Hey! Melinda! Beautiful! Where you going?'
'POOL!' I screamed back, beginning to get hysterical. 'AND YOU'RE ALL INVITED!'
'Wait—What?'
'PARTY IN MY PANTS!' I shrieked excitedly.
I've always wanted to say that!
We got to the Slater's pool gate and I fished out the key from where it was hidden and let us in. We ran around the rectangular perimeter of the crystal blue pool and collapsed, laughing, into the wooden poolside furniture.
Then I noticed something. Something IMPORTANT. 'Damn it. Where'd the GOOD STUFF go?'
'Here.' Chad pulled out the BRIILIANT BOTTLE (if I could marry a bottle, it would be THAT one. And we would live happily ever after. And have sssex. Because I LOVE THE GOOD BOTTLE STUFF! Woo!) and sloshed more GOOD STUFF into my little glass.
I swear, Chad was a MAGICIAN with producing the goods. Hehe. I wonder how he does it?
Meh. A magician never tells his secrets. And you should never a look a mouth horse in the gift.
Wait. That's not it.
Never look a gift mouth in the horse . . . You can't lead a gift to water . . .horse . . .
SOMETHING ALONG THOSE LINES.
There IS a HORSE.
'BRILLIANT!' I squealed (Why was I yelling, you ask? Dunno.) And tipped my head back to swallow more of the foul liquid.
'Hey Melinda?'
'Yey-ah?' I sung.
I watched as Chad got up of his chair and came over to sit beside me on mine.
I wriggled over to give him more room, but he leant over me and put his arm over me, resting it on the other side of the chair, restricting my movement with his body.
'What?' I repeated.
Hello . . .?
HELLO . . .?
. . . No one home.
Chuck a brick through the window then? Ok. Will do.
Wait . . .
What?
Chad didn't answer me, just began to slowly lean towards me, keeping his eyes on mine.
I knew what he had in mind.
And I would like to blame my next actions on the excessive amounts of alcohol I had consumed that evening.
'Oh FUKING HELL,' I said, exasperated at how SLOWLY he was moving. So I grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled his mouth to mine.
Felt weird.
Not BAD, but . . . weird.
I'd just gotten so used to a very different tongue in my mouth.
. . . I'm sorry, was that crude?
. . . PENIS!
I'd also gotten used to different pair of—WEIRD—hands holding my face . . . and things got WEIRDER still as Chad slid his hands slid down my neck and over my shoulders and—and—
OUCH!
Ease up would you? They're not made of fucking PLAY-DOUGH.
Suddenly, Chad's weight went flying off me, and my eyes flew open as I heard an unmistakable voice—the voice that meant more to me than my entire handbag collection.
. . . However not more than my shoe collection. Let's keep things realistic.
Before I had a chance to say anything, Nick had drawn back his arm and punched Chad full in the face.
Chad went spinning into the pool.
Hows THAT for dramatic effect?
I clapped my hands. 'Haha. Cool. You're in the pool!' Then I started giggling. Because it RHYMED. DUH.
'Youcan shut the fuck up,' Nick growled in my direction.
'Who pissed in your cornflakes?' I challenged. 'And where's your SLUT?"
This was the first I'd seen Nick without HER oozing off him all night.
Bet she was off fucking his brother.
Wait. Nick doesn't have a brother.
Ok, his STEP-MUM then.
Although, I don't really know how that WORKS. Lesbian sex. I mean, NEITHER PARTY HAS A PENIS! So what gives?
'Who are you calling a slut?' Nick challenged, 'LOOK AT YOU!'
'There is no need to take that tone with me,' I said loftily. Although the effect might have been ruined by the fact that before I'd even finished speaking, I had slid off the pool chair and onto the cold concrete.
Fuck up. I'm not drunk.
YOU'RE drunk.
And so is your MUM.
It was then that Chad managed to resurface from his underwater sojourn. He pulled himself out of the pool, and stood there, dripping wet. His face was contorted with anger, yet he forced his voice to sound cheery.
. . . Can I just say that THAT'S fucked up?
Yeah I said it.
Oh yeah. I WENT THERE.
Booyah.
'Come on Nick, mate,' Chad drawled. 'What did I do to deserve that?'
Hey! My throw up feeling is back! WHADDA YA KNOW?
I then decided that now would be a good time to sleep. So I rolled over onto my stomach and closed my eyes. Yeah. Still on the wet concrete.
Why?
You want to know WHY? HOW DARE YOU—
Dunno, really. It just seemed like a great idea. But don't they always?
'Leave her alone.' Nick barked. I assumed he was referring to me. 'She doesn't know what she's doing. She's completely wasted.'
HEY MAN.
I'm not a waste. YOU'RE a WASTE.
I'm a . . . Lace.
Well . . . My knickers are lacy. Wanna see?
I'll show you yours if you show me—
'Whatever.' I mumbled into the ground. 'Lesbian sex is complicated.'
That certainly put a slight damper on the tough guy talk, I tell you.
'Melinda,' Nick came over to my side and crouched down beside me, 'Come with me, we have to get you sober—'
'Fuck off bitch boy, I'm sleeping.'
'Melinda, come on,' then his arms were around me and he was helping me to my feet. 'I think we'd better get you home.'
I slumped, and he supported me.
'Hey Nick,' called Chad, strolling leisurely over towards us. 'Let her go man. She's fine.'
'Yeeaaaah. I'm FINE . . .' I mumbled. Then I licked my finger and stuck it on my ass, making a 'SSSSSSSS' noise.
. . . Don't pretend you've never done that before.
'Chad,' Nick said pleasantly, 'go home and suck your mum's cock.'
God Nick comes out with some beauties sometimes, doesn't he?
Chad was grinning widely. 'What's all this Nicky?' I winced on Nick's behalf. 'She's not your problem anymore, bro. She DUMPED your sad ass, so I heard.'
I'm a problem?
Well I RESENT THAT.
Looking back, I realise that this would have been the point where I MIGHT have realised that Chad had planned all of this just to piss Nick off.
However, I was too busy trying to fall asleep while STANDING UP to bother with being at all that perceptive.
Did you know that trying to fall asleep while standing up is actually A BIT TRICKY? Especially when all the while you would like nothing better than just to throw up and then coma out.
Nick, obviously deciding that IGNORING Chad was the strategy to go with, turned his back on him and began guiding me away from the pool.
'Why are you doing this, Nick?' Chad taunted. 'Huh? Why do you give a fuck that she's pissed off her damn face—'
'I RESENT THAT!' I screamed again, my words indistinct. "Noonewillbepisssingonmyface!"
'—are you trying to play the nice guy, so she'll take you back? That's a bit desperate ain't it?'
Nick said nothing, just kept helping me towards the gate.
'Obviously you just weren't good enough for her, aye? You weren't satisfyingenough . . . did you know that she was all set to fuck that pot head Rhys earlier tonight? Yeah. And you saw for yourself that she don't wanna keep her hands outta MY pants—'
Abruptly Nick let go of me, and I stumbled a bit, before slumping over the pool gate.
'C'mon then mate,' Chad sneered, as Nick advanced towards him. 'Lets see it then.'
And see it he did.
Nick didn't waste any time. He strode up to Chad and twisted away from the fist Chad swung in his immediate direction without slowing down. He just reached out and clutched fistfuls of his shirt and shoved him sideways into the wooden pool table.
This made a very nice crunch sound.
Was this fight all about me? Ha. Cool. Fight over me. How awesome.
And boy, Nick was BRINGING IT.
Actually . . . he was bringing it so much . . . that it wasn't even all that exciting.
'Chad, man! You're getting your ass kicked!' I called out, as Nick grabbed Chad again and slammed him into the pool fence, placing his forearm over Chad's sternum.
He was applying a fair bit of pressure to this as well, if Chad's gasping was anything to go by.
Wow.
This is pretty dumb.
I really thought that a fight like this would be more exciting.
More "EN GUARDE!" kinda, you know? Testosterone-y males, settling their differences WWW stye . . .
But nah.
It was just Chad getting the shit beaten out of him.
Way boring.
How embarrassing for Chad. Being a big football star and all.
To be fair, he didn't really have a chance though. Nick was PEEVED. He only holds his jaw like that when he's REALLY pissed off.
. . . Ooh. I still want to throw up.
Ok. Melinda. Don't throw up. Throwing up is YUCKY, don't you DARE. Focus on something else. Oh, look! Fight! Ooh! Cool!
'Ow,' I winced as I watched Chad bring his leg up and aim to severly damage Nick's guy parts—Nick avoided this the way all guys do: he did that weird hunched over, knees together hands over pose—and Chad stretched his arm up and hit Nick square in the face. 'Shame Nick. You're going to have a black eye tomorrow.'
I was standing there, swinging over the gate and offering commentary when we were interrupted by an angry voice.
'OI! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU FUCKWADS' DOING?'
Shit! It's Scott! Hide Melinda, HIDE!
I scrambled to my feet and tried to run.
The outcome of this action was enough to convince me that I might have been just that LITTLE bit tipsy . . .
Problem was balance. It caught up to me in the end, as I knew it would.
You see, I really wasn't capable of standing without Nick or the gate.
Preferably both.
I stumbled instantly and made it JUST through the pool gate before my balance got a little suss. I lurched forward, stumbling as my shoes slid on the wet grass . . .
To cut a long story short, I ended up head down ass up in the garden.
Go team.
Yeah. Ok. I'm a DANCER, my balance is usually PERFCT . . . So I must have been fucking tanked.
SHH! Don'ttelldaddy!
I groaned and pulled myself into a sitting position. 'Mother fucking plants!' I growled at them. Scott came over and helped me to my feet. 'Why you have to be there, huh? Huh plants? WHY? I don't ask for much in life now, do I? ALL I ASK IS THAT NO-ONE PUT VEGETATION IN DUMB PLACES!' I yelled at no one in particular.
'Dumb places?' Scott asked, his voice halfway between disapproval and humour. "Like gardens?'
'Yeah,' I mumbled, rubbing my thigh. 'Dumb place for plants number ONE.'
'Melinda?' I looked up to see Nick over Scott's shoulder.
'Is Chad dead now?' I asked.
'No.' Nick answered, laughing.
What? I was totally serious.
Then Nick reached out to take me from Scott like it was the most natural thing in the world. I cringed away from his hands.
He stared at me.
'You right Chad?' Scott yelled in the direction of the pool.
'Fuck off Jenson,' came the reply.
'Yeah, he's good,' muttered Scott. Then turned and said to Nick, 'man, what is WRONG with you?'
Nick didn't answer that. 'Come on, let's get her up to the house. Chenaol can play nurse.'
I assumed 'her' was me.
'Yay yay,' I burbled, 'I missChenaol. She's funny. She's funny.'
'You said that.'
'No . . .'
Then there was silence as they led me up to the house. I waited until we were a good halfway up the lawn and the house was in clear sight before I broke it. 'I want to sleep,' I said. Then I noticed something else. 'Hey,' I said quietly to Nick. 'You're bleeding.'
'Am I?' he swiped his hand over his nose and shrugged.
'Eww.' I said helpfully. And then, God knows how I managed it, but I actually said something moderately intelligent. 'Are you alright Nick?'
'Never better. I've wanted to smash that fuckers head in for a long time.' He grinned at me.
Then I remembered something. Something that made me mad. "So. Nick. Where'd you park the slut?"
Coz she's like a bike! ANYONE can have a ride! And when you're not riding a bike you have to PARK IT!
See? SEEE? See the great metaphor-y thing I have going on there?
I can still be FUNNY when I'm pissed!
YAAAAAAAAAAY MELINDA!
'Corinna?' Nick asked. I assumed that was the bike's name.
What, you think I CARE she has a name? 'SLUT.' I corrected. 'And you know what pisses me off?' I said angrily, and then didn't wait for an answer. 'YOU. You, Nicholas Slater, PISS ME OFF.'
He was still grinning. 'Why is that Melinda?'
"Oh, WhyisthatMelinda?" I mocked. "I'LL TELL YOU WHY IS THAT MELINDA! Because you're a real CUNT!'
Then I tripped over on an uneven part of the lawn and hit the well-manicured damp lawn with my face. God I'm cool.
Nick, the aforementioned cunt put his arms around me and lifted me up, placing me back on my feet, but keeping a tight arm around my waist so I wouldn't fall again.
. . . huh. He is SUCH a cunt.
Scott shook his head, laughing.
"Melinda," Nick whispered in my ear as the weird dizzy feeling reclaimed me. "You should just stop talking."
GOOD IDEAD NICKY-POO.
Your very BEST idea, in fact.
So I did. I just shut up.
Somehow, Nick and Scott managed to get me into the house and to a room and bed and all that.
Well, at least I assume they did. Because I woke up there.
I think.
-Oh wait, no yeah. I did. With a head that felt like Dino from the Flinstones had sat on it. But that's another story.
AuthorsNote: Thanks for reading. You're very beautiful people, and I wish you all the best. All my love and kisses! Mariah.