Hey Guys! Omg, okay, so I know it's been forever since I updated, but I do have an amazing explanation. My laptop broke, and then we had to send it back, and then I had rehearsals and exams which meant a shit load of revising and barely any time to do it in. So yeah. Super busy. But I have now bought you some lovely, drunk times. So enjoy and review :D
Chapter 6.
10:34 p.m.
Mike and Tina went home; Rachel, Mercedes and Kurt are off having a 'chat'.
That leaves Sam, Britany, Quinn, Puck, Genie, Artie, Blaine, Finn, and myself, lounging on the floor.
"So...what's next?" Finn asks.
"Seriously; what's next? Dude, what else comes next?" Puck scoffs at his 'best friend'.
"7 minutes in Heaven!" Genie cries excitedly, tapping her beer can to Puck's.
"You mean...we get to go to Heaven for 7 minutes? That sounds awesome but I don't wanna die yet," Britany slouches against Blaine.
He is definitely not a full on gay basher.
Then Quinn sighs, her mobile singing out that annoying tune that it does whenever her Mother calls.
"I have to take this guys, I'm sorry," she gets up, pressing accept.
"So, are we just doing this bog standard with a bottle?" Sam asks, watching Quinn leave the room.
I wonder if he still has feelings for her. I wouldn't be surprised. She's head cheerleader. She practically hands him the top of the proverbial pyramid on a platter, as if he wasn't basically there already. She's beautiful, and respectful, and nice, and decent. Well, that's the impression she's given me anyways. Sure, I've heard the rumours which fly around school, but I choose to ignore them. They're just rumours right? I haven't asked questions. Why would I? It's not any of my business, or anyone else's for that matter.
So then, why am I sat here, staring longingly at Sam Evans, and wondering...No, needing to know what he's feeling. About her: Quinn. Why am I jealous of the past they have, even though I know virtually nothing about it?
I guess it was the way he gazed after her as she slid past him just now. But why do I care? That's the question. And it's a stupid question, that I already know the answer too:
I fancy Sam Evans.
Which is, quite frankly, something I did not plan on doing, and something which needs to be nipped in the bud. Soon.
"No! We should do the whole '21' counting thing," Genie suggests, waving her hands around.
"Sounds like a good idea," Puck nods, and so does Sam.
"Why 21? Why not just 20? Why does everything have to be so complicated?" Britany whines, sipping her vodka through a straw, still slumped against Blaine.
Sometimes I do wonder about the girl. Still, she is my friend, even if she's the dimmest person I know. It's not her fault. She's sweet really.
"Okay, I'll start," Genie counts up to 7, allowing the circle to count its way up, leaving Finn with 21.
"I can see the lights already..." Britany murmurs, closing her eyes and tilting her head towards the ceiling.
"That's a light bulb, baby," Artie corrects his girlfriend, even though he's wearing his glasses upside down.
As we count round again, his partner becomes...
"Puck. M'man!" I laugh, my words slurring slightly.
"There aren't enough girls," Puck groans.
"Fuck it. Sorry baby, I'm going in," Genie gets up, as if she just doesn't care. And she probably doesn't.
Finn and Puck shrug at each other, but seeing as Finn looks a lot happier with this Genie follows him into the next room.
I observe the room as Blaine counts the minutes.
Rachel is asleep (or passed out) against Kurt, who is staring longingly at Blaine, who has Britany slumped against his chest. Artie is chatting to Sam, Puck is laid on the floor looking as if he quite frankly doesn't give a shit about anything. Quinn is nowhere to be seen, most probably being screamed at down the phone by her mother. Blaine is busily counting and I can imagine the wrath I would get if he lost his time.
I make my way over, for the second time tonight, to my iPod. There is still half a playlist left.
I glance back at the boys.
I've never seen Blaine so...I can't even think.
The only words which spring to mind are 'totally hammered' or 'paralytic'. Artie wheels over to me.
"You okay?" I ask, leaning my arms on his legs.
"I'm fly baby gee. How're you holding up?"
"Same old," I lie, "But seriously, your girlfriend is cuddled up with a guy who isn't you, and you're 'fly'?"
"Sure?" he shrugs, "They're drunk," `
"Who isn't?" I glance over at the pair and accidentally catch Sam's eye. I look away sharp-ish.
"What's going on with you and the Beibster?"
"Nothing. He's all stereotypical and assoholic and stuff," I repeat for about the fifth time this week, scrunching my eyes up.
"Sam? Stereotypical?" Artie looks at me as if he couldn't think of anything more absurd.
"Artie, I don't think you should drink anymore. The alcohol goes straight to your brain and makes you deranged. Sam Evans is egotistical, and is obsessed by his hair and popularity status," I point out.
"He's not!"
"Is,"
He shrugged, "I tried,"
Blaine shouts something which sounds like "Get out of the Tardis!" so I assume he means that 7 minutes is up.
Genie and Finn emerge, looking slightly flushed. We all make our way back to the circle.
"Oh, hey baby," Genie sits on Puck's lap and they begin to make out.
"Try not to swallow each other," I roll my eyes, turning away from their display.
"Let's go again," Artie says hastily, and Finn starts the counting.
Sam is landed with 21 this time and then Quinn emerges.
"Sorry guys, I'm going to have to bail," she makes a face, grabbing her coat from the armchair.
"Your Mom's mad?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"How'd you guess," she sighs, pulling her arms through the sleeves.
"Are you okay to drive?"
"No, but I'll be fine," she shrugs.
I think about all the deaths and injuries from drink driving. It's not a good idea. I'd be devastated if Quinn got herself in hospital. She's the closest thing I've got to a best friend, and Genie is definitely stepping up the rung on the friendship ladder.
Switching to a different track of thought, I can't believe that Santana never turned up. I know that she's fierce and proud and all but I thought she would've at least given it a fair go at hating every second and being here to prove it. It's because she knows she would've enjoyed it, and that would shake her core. I don't think that she's really like that. I don't believe it's possible to be such a bitch. She's doing it to protect herself. The question is; from what?
"Hold that thought," I grab Quinn's arm and take my mobile out of my pocket.
"What're you doing?" she asks, but I push a finger to her lips.
The phone rings off.
"What do you want Barbie?"
"Nice to speak to you too, Satan. I called to ask a favour,"
"Why would I help you?"
"Because your friend Quinn, remember her?"
"Vaguely,"
"Charming," I roll my eyes at the response.
"As always,"
"Whatever. She needs a ride home. She's been drinking and she's okay now but she's still over the limit and you know how her Mom gets, so-"
"Oh boo-freaking-hoo. She'll be fine," the girl on the end of the phone interrupts me.
"Santana, I'm not asking as a way to frustrate you. Believe me, I have other things on my mind," I let my eyes flicker over to Sam, who's watching me intently, "but your friend needs a favour and everyone here has been drinking,"
"Surely your wonderful, purer than gold hostess-"
"Berry is passed out on Porcelain's chest," I picked up Kurt's nickname from Coach Sylvester.
"Ha, make sure you snap that," she chuckles, then composes herself, and huffs, "Fine, I'll do it. Not for you because I hate you and I still do. Be there in 5," she hangs up.
I turn to Quinn. "Santana's gonna give you a lift,"
"Oh good. That'll be a ride to remember. You realise she's probably planning my death as we speak right?"
"Don't be stupid Quinn. She might very well be the ultimate B-F-H, but she's not going to kill you,"
"B-F-H?" she questions.
"Bitch from hell," I clarify, then tuck my phone back into my pocket and turn to the awaiting circle.
"I'm gonna wait outside with Quinn. You guys can carry on," then I take Quinn's hand and head out to the front of the house.
"You didn't have to do that. You should've stayed and done the game,"
'No thanks, I don't particularly want to sit and count while Sam goes into that room with a girl who isn't me' I think, but don't say.
"It's all good," I shrug, "You're my friend Quinn. I don't want something to happen to you if I could've prevented it," I explain, and smile.
"Well, thanks for caring," she smiles back, all tearily.
"It's fine," I draw her into a hug.
Her breath tickles my neck as she pulls away. I watch her eyes fall to my lips, and my breathing hitches in my throat as she leans in a little bit. Then I hear a car on the gravel, and we both pull away.
"I'll see you Monday," I say awkwardly.
"Yeah. See you then," she replies quickly, getting into Santana's silver Porsche.
I watch them reverse out of the drive, then slump against the wall, wondering what in the hell just happened. What almost happened. Had Quinn seriously just gone in to kiss me? Had I very almost let her do that?
'It's the alcohol' I tell myself firmly. I take in a lungful of air and return to the party. Everyone is still lolling around in a circle. Surely they've counted to 21 by now?
"Have we abandoned the game?" I question, frowning and putting my hands into my back pockets.
"No," Finn replies.
"Sam wouldn't let us continue until you were back," Artie shoots me that 'I told you so' grin.
Sam just tries to look very businesslike, and says "It's unfair to carry on the game with one of our party missing,"
"Fine," I sit down and start off with 1.
We go round the circle until it gets to Artie, who's sitting next to me and he counts all the way to 20, so I have no other choice but to say '21' and then ask "Isn't there a rule against that or something?"
"No! So stop stalling and go make out with Beiber," Genie shouts at me, which is kind of scary. So I down a shot, and let Sam pull me to my feet.
He leans against the wall outside the 'Heaven' room. I cross my arms and the song Hot Mess comes on. How fucking convenient.
"Fancy going to Heaven with me then?" he bites his lip, which is annoying because he looks incredibly sexy when he does that. I control myself.
"Sam. I would rather poke my eyes out," I reply, making my voice sound pleasant.
Of course I'm lying, but he can't know that.
"Mmm, but they're such pretty eyes," he leans right forward, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a smile.
My insides buckle. I giggle. It's all I can do to stop myself from collapsing.
"Fine. 7 minutes, Evans. That's all you're getting," I give in, even though I know that once I get in there I'll be wanting a lot more than 7 minutes.
He grins triumphantly, and as I turn he puts his hands on my hips, leading me through the doorway.
I sit on the sofa as he shuts the door.
"You look really pretty tonight," he smiles, standing in front of me.
"And you look very handsome, my good sir. Loving the shirt," I giggle.
"So...uh, I've kind of wanted to do this since I met you," he scratches the back of his head, then shoves both hands in his pockets.
He looks all cute and nervous. It's official: he hides behind a gigantic ego which isn't even his.
It's time to take the reins.
"So, are you going to stop being a jerk now?"
"No,"
"That's not the answer I wanted," I pout.
"Then I'm going to have to teach you how to compromise,"
"Ooh, that's a big word Sam," I tease.
He places both hands on the sofa either side of my head, where I'm leaning against the pillows.
"I'm pretty but I ain't dumb Annie. At least, not about you,"
I look up at him through my eyelashes as the song in the background sings: "Well you're a hot mess and I'm falling for you,"
Lust washes through me. I grab his collar and pull that big mouth onto mine.
It makes fireworks go off in my head and I feel all shaky. His mouth prises mine open, and his tongue traces my lower lip which makes my whole body tingle. He tastes of Beer and Vodka; a powerful mix of bitter and strong which messes with my head.
He grabs my waist, sitting down and pulling me on top of him at the same time while I get deeper into the kiss.
'This is a bad idea Annie, this is a very bad idea' I'm thinking to myself the whole time that he's gently pushing me down until I'm laying on the sofa, with his body lightly hovering over mine. Yet somehow I can't find my willpower anywhere! I can't find it in me to stop, even when he grips my thigh, and wraps it around his hip.
It carries on for a short time until we're just one hot, tangled mess on the couch, and Genie decides to open the door. No warning, just flings it right open, letting everyone and their cell phones get a full view of us. They all fall about laughing, and close the door again. Sam rolls off me neatly, readjusting his shirt and I sort out my hair.
Then there's the awkward silence where he looks at me with:
'So...am I getting into your pants or what?' stamped all over his face, and I just look back with: 'Should that even have happened?' on mine.
He steps forward, taking both my hands. "What're you thinking?" he asks softly.
I sigh, staring at our hands and thinking about how right they look and feel together. But I don't tell him that. "I'm thinking...that probably shouldn't have happened," I glance up, studying his face.
"But it did,"
"Yeah, I know, I was there too. But what I'm saying is we probably shouldn't have done that,"
"Yeah, but we did," he looks at me evenly. And he's right. Maybe it shouldn't have happened, and maybe we shouldn't have done it, but none the less, it did happen and we did do it and there's nothing either one of us can do to change that.
"You're right. I'm sorry Sam, I'm not being fair to you at all. In fact I'm-"
"I liked it,"
I look at him, confused.
"The kissing. I liked it," he says sheepishly.
"Me too," I admit, "But let's just take it slow, okay?" I say, instantly not knowing whether or not I'm going to regret it.
"Slow? I went out with Quinn and you wanna talk about slow? Come on woman, give me something to work with," his smile turns to a full grin as he ducks to my height.
He has a point; Quinn is Queen of slow ever since she got pregnant. I know that much. But as I pointed out before; I don't tend to ask Quinn a lot of questions about that stuff. It's obviously personal and if she wants me to know then she'll come and talk to me about it. However, thinking about Quinn makes me feel uneasy in a really weird way, so I put Sam's hands in my back pockets and press up against him. He pulls me closer, until our bodies are all but melded together, as our lips move fervently around each others.
Then he does just about the cutest thing ever, and rubs his nose against mine, only the once before we head back out the door. I find myself absolutely buzzing and my mind going: 'OMG! Cuteness Overload!' and I want to scream and jump up and down in the good way. The way you do when you find out that you're going to Disney Land.
We must've been in there at least 10 minutes, and so we're greeted by the immature 'Whey!' of everyone except Kurt and Rachel, although Kurt winks at me. Rachel is still passed out, which is good. She needs to sleep off the 5 shots of Vodka she tried to do all in one go.
"Well, it looks like Annie got 7 minutes of Sam's heaven," Artie decides to say, winking around.
"He wasn't that good," I shrug, then wink at Sam, who chuckles and rubs the back of his head.
"What happened in there?" Genie crowds me into the corner, "Did you...do the dirty?" she winks. (There seems to be an awful lot of winking going on.)
"No! Jeez, I'm not a ho!" I exclaim, and Genie coughs, thinking she's being funny. Then she actually has a coughing fit and I have to hit her on the back several times.
"Besides," I say after she's recovered, "I do not kiss and tell,"
"Then let's get wasted,"
I agree, kicking my shoes off, and soon things begin to blur.
A three way kiss with Britany and Sam (which is actually quite fun); grinding on the dance floor with Sam to Miami2Ibiza; another three way with Puck and Genie; screaming along to Benny and the Jets with Mercedes; being tackled by Puck, Sam and Finn; racing around with a topless Britany on my back pretending to be a fire engine. At one point Rachel woke up and came and slow danced with me too Barbra Streisand which I'm pretty sure someone videoed. Having a dance off with Genie on Just Dance 2; falling on top of Finn during the first 5 minutes of Twister; Ghosts; Bed sheets. Ghost turning out to be Sam wrapped in a bed sheet. Singing You're So Vain with my brother (I say singing, I mean I'm shouting 'You're so vain' in his face while the tune plays completely out of time with me); reciting a scene from Monsters Inc. to Kurt; Blaine started to talk about Harry and his Pottery; I decide I'm going to start calling Finn 'Finny bear' and Sam 'Ken'.
I'm sitting against Sam, his legs either side of me.
"You like me," he smiles.
"Do not!" I deny.
"Who're you trying to convince princess? Me or yourself?" he rubs my arm.
"Ken Beiber is a beautiful 12 year old, okay?" I shout back in despair.
"Annie, Annie, Annie!" Brit then sits on me and starts kissing me.
I see Puck picking Genie up (who is in very skimpy underwear. I'm not kidding; she may as well be wearing dental floss) and wrapping her legs around him, still managing to keep his face attached to hers the whole time.
Blaine then picks Britany up and kisses her then sits on Artie's lap and dozes right off.
Britany just stands there, looking around, her face giving away that she's totally spaced.
"Come on," Sam gets up, taking my hand and leading me upstairs.
Then there's just me, Sam, and a whole load of purple sheets...
Hope You Enjoyed it! Please review!