Rose Amongst Thorns
Chapter Six
Jell-O Shots
"I'm so glad you had fun tonight," Regina said softly, as they stepped over the threshold of the McGowan house, laden down with shopping bags and stuffed with California Pizza Kitchen, sipping on Starbucks passion fruit iced-tea lemonade.
"I did, thank you," Rose said softly; the house wasn't as quiet as it had been yesterday; in fact, it was bedlam. The TV was blaring, and downstairs the Xbox was on full-volume; Sean was playing in the garage with his band—Regina had informed Rose that was what the racket was, though Rose had recognised a Deep Purple song before she and Regina had headed out to the enormous mall for nearly three hours of continuous shopping, chatting and eating. Rose had had a good time—and Regina maybe even more so. Rose had gotten the impression that Regina hadn't had the leisure of stepping into Sephora for many months, if not years. "But you didn't have to buy me all of this."
In her hands, Rose carried numerous bags—Sephora, Abercrombie, Macy's, Top Shop and Victoria's Secret—and they were cutting off the blood-flow into her fingers because they were so heavy. She didn't want to fathom how much money Regina had spent on her—well, on them; Regina carried just as many bags as Rose, and had delighted in Rose helping her pick and choose outfits and shoes and critiquing how she looked when she tried things on. Rose guessed her sons didn't have the patience or taste to recognise that Regina, in her mid- to late-forties, wore J Brand better even than a twenty-five year old. And that was after having given birth to seven kids! If Rose could have Regina's figure when she was her age, she would be a very happy woman.
"It was my pleasure, Rosie," Regina smiled. "You looked so pretty in those outfits."
"Well, thank you, again," Rose said, feeling her cheeks warm. Every time Regina had taken out her wallet, Rose had flushed and insisted she pay for them with her trust-fund ATM card. Regina wouldn't hear of it; she had insisted the trust-fund was for college, and like saying she didn't want Rose to spend her allowance on food, Regina had insisted she buy her clothes, lingerie, and shoes, and expensive makeup (after a mini makeover at Benefits, after having their eyebrows neatened at the Brow Bar in Macy's).
"Hey, you're quite welcome," Regina smiled, and Rose remembered Finn saying the exact same thing earlier in the day. "Do you know what a pleasure it was to actually be able to go into a Victoria's Secrets store? I hadn't been into the cosmetics section in Macy's for ages. Maybe we could do it again. You liked CPK, didn't you?"
"Yes, ma'am," Rose smiled. At California Pizza Kitchen, Rose had had a bowl of tortilla soup and she and Regina had shared a meat-feast pizza, and for dessert they'd had cinnamon-sugar pretzel-bites from Wetzel's.
"Maybe next time we can take in a movie—and go to the Cheesecake Factory for dessert," Regina said, her eyes glowing excitedly; Rose smiled.
"I'd like that," she said, and Regina's smile made the whole evening worthwhile, even though half her math homework was waiting upstairs for her to struggle through.
"Well, I'm going to make some tea. Do you want some?" Regina asked, still smiling.
"Peppermint? Um, yes please," Rose smiled. "Um… If it's okay, I'll come back down for it." She lifted her hands, with difficulty, and Regina smiled and went into the kitchen.
Standing at the foot of the stairs, Rose heard voices emanating from the basement. Down below, Doug called out a play-by-play for what sounding like a digital football showdown—in Rose's mind, the biggest waste of time there could be; she didn't understand why boys didn't just pick up a football and go and play for real.
"And Ian's Patriots take the ball on their own thirty-yard line," Doug intoned, lowering his voice to a near-perfect impression of a sports announcer. "Can Ian, the upstart sixth grader, who until recently was still sucking his fruit punch from a sippy cup, beat last year's champion and complete spazmo—all filler, no killer Miller?"
Rose smiled; when he wasn't trying to be an underprivileged black man, Doug could actually be quite funny. Who would have guessed?
"And Brady drops back to pass… He's lookin'… He's lookin'…" Another cheer and Rose heard the slaps of high-fives. "I don't believe it!" Doug shouted. "Ian's got a first down on the fifty-yard line with a bee-yoo-tee-full pass to the wide out. He's as cool as the other side a' the pillow. No one saw that comin', especially not Miller's lame-ass defence. If you can if call it that—Ow!"
Well deserved, Rose thought, as Miller apparently punched Doug. Something made her want to go and join the boys down in the den, but another part said it would only make Miller uncomfortable, and Doug would hate her for encroaching on what was clearly the boys' place. Instead, she went upstairs and placed her bags on the chaise in the corner, turning on the bedroom lamps, retrieved a glass teacup and saucer of peppermint tea from Regina, and retreated back upstairs to tackle the remainder of her math homework.
She sat down at her desk, moving her MacBook aside so she didn't get tempted to go on Facebook or MSN, opened her textbook, and half an hour she had finished the equations, with a few mishaps and rewrites, and was just closing her math textbook when someone knocked on her bedroom door—which she kept open because she always had at home.
Rose glanced up. It was Evan. He leaned against the door-frame, his hands in his pockets. He was wearing distressed jeans and a powder-blue button-down shirt under a perfectly broken-in brown suede car jacket. Holy…Abercrombie…
"Hi," Rose said quietly. Evan's smile was slow and secretive; he glanced into the hallway and slipped into her room, closing the door.
"Hey," he said, grinning briefly, and went to sit on the bench at the end of Rose's bed. "So listen, um, I know you and Mom had a big blitz down at the mall, and you're probably tired from school, but one of my friends is having his birthday party tonight—his parents are still in Europe, so it should be pretty wild—and he asked me to bring you with me."
"Me?" Rose blinked. Evan grinned, sweeping his eyes over her.
"Yeah. All of my friends are real curious about you—and I think you'll really like them," he smiled again.
"Why would your friend ask you to bring me to his party?" Rose asked, her cheeks flushing. Evan laughed.
"You have no idea what effect you have on people, do you?" he murmured, almost to himself. Rose flushed hotter. He grinned. "Come on, Chibs; I know there's a bad-girl in there. I've seen your Facebook albums." Rose really did blush then.
"Oh," she said, her cheeks hot. Evan grinned again, his eyes twinkling. The decision made itself in an instant. "Do I have time to change?"
"Yeah," Evan grinned. "But be quick, if you can. I need to pick up some stuff from the store." Three guesses what, Rose thought, smiling bashfully. Evan grinned one last time and left the room; Rose made sure no one was in the climbing-tree before she stripped out of her clothes, slid her closet open, and drew out a casual party-approved outfit; the pair of tiny, light-wash denim shorts she had worn yesterday, and a silk-blend one-shouldered white top; she changed into a pair of white cotton lace-waist bikini bottoms and a white lace Agent Provocateur strapless bra—Rose was a lingerie-snob, and she and her mother had both loved luxury designer lingerie. She touched up her hair and reapplied her makeup, using her favourite coppery-gold eyeshadow and waterproof mascara, a hint of 'Georgia' powder and a soft shimmering pink lip-gloss. She used one of her favourite, tiny purses (the one that had the secret zipper compartment in which was a condom, just in case) and stored her cell-phone and wallet inside, having no house-keys, making sure her fake I.D. was where it had last been.
She met Evan in the downstairs hallway; he had acquired the keys to his Saab and was tossing them in his hand, catching them in his palm with a gentle jingle. As he had after cross-country practice, Evan opened the door for her—the front passenger door this time—and Rose climbed in, tucking her limbs together. While she wasn't a stranger to wild parties, she wasn't used to going to them with anyone but Pogue. At her old school she had been one of the social elite, mostly because of her association with Pogue. She was shy, but popular, and had always been invited to the best parties.
"So…what was your old school like?" Evan asked, as he jammed the keys into the ignition and drove out of the property.
"Um…I don't know, really; I don't know enough of Baker High yet to see a difference," Rose said, shrugging slightly.
"That's true, I guess. But what about your friends. I bet you were one of the popular girls," Evan smiled. Rose felt her cheeks warm pleasantly.
"Um…Yes, I mean… I was," she acknowledged. "My best-friend was really the popular one. Sometimes I'm too shy to really put myself out there."
"But look at you; you don't know anyone except me at this party, but here you are," Evan smiled. He glanced at her and smiled. "It's just my guess, but behind that shy blush, you're really a little bit of a wild child." Rose laughed.
"That's what Pogue says," she smiled affectionately.
"Pogue? Who's Pogue?" Evan frowned, taking a turn.
"Oh—my best-friend. Pogue Alexander. I've known him since I was nine," Rose sighed. "He came over to our house when we moved to North Carolina the first day we got there, and he made me play kiss-chase my first day of school."
"Huh. Now that's an idea," Evan said thoughtfully, shooting a playful grin at her. Rose smiled and blushed. "You miss him," Evan said, and it wasn't a question. Rose nodded. "So…he's your best-friend. Not a boyfriend?"
"No!" Rose laughed. "I mean…sometimes we used to mess around a little bit, but it was never serious. It was just…"
"Experimenting," Evan smiled, his lips twitching as if he was stopping himself from grinning too knowingly. "Yeah, I know what that's like." He glanced at her. "Me and Hailey were the same. She used to live next-door, you know."
"Oh. Pogue's my next-door neighbour, too. Always dangerous."
"Tell me about it. She was always in the climbing-tree, staring through my window with binoculars," Evan sighed, as if he was very put out about that. Rose laughed.
"And here I thought Doug and Ian got that from one of you," Rose teased, and Evan laughed, then sobered his expression.
"Me, peep on a girl? Never!" he gasped, mock-mortified. Rose smiled, knowing that if Hailey had been spying on Evan, he had spent as much time peeping at her.
"And the Playboys in the bathroom?" Rose asked. Evan had the grace to blush at that.
"You saw those?"
"They're not exactly inconspicuous!"
After a stop at the store for some beers—and cupcakes?—Evan drove them up to the security booth of a gated-community, stated he was going to Darnell Wilcox's house, and navigated round the gated community of mansions that didn't nearly equal the McGowans' gorgeous house. Before they had even pulled into the driveway of the house that was obviously the location of Darnell Wilcox's birthday-party, Rose saw rippling blonde hair, and felt a surge of irritation as Hailey Farmer came jogging down the garden path. Music blasted from inside the house—the front-door being wide-open—and Rose could hear loud laughter and even louder conversation, the soft chink of glasses and bottles, and the splash of water, for some reason. She could only guess that Darnell Wilcox had a pool.
No sooner had Evan parked on the curb than Hailey was sticking her head through the open driver's window.
"Hey, baby," she said, grabbing his face through the open window and giving him a long, possessive kiss. Rose wanted to retch. She was used to people displaying affection; her parents had been so in love with each other that they couldn't go five minutes without a peck on the lips, holding hands, an arm around a waist. But this was ridiculous. But also, she hadn't realised, stupid of her, that when Evan had mentioned a party, that Hailey would be invited too. Rose stifled a heavy sigh and stepped out of the car. Hailey had straightened, her smile smug.
"Oh. Hey," she said, flicking her eyes over Rose. If Rose hadn't seen her at cross-country practice, she would have said cheerleader; Hailey had that kind of fierce, condescending attitude that defined the cheerleaders at her school in North Carolina. Hailey's little Abercrombie outfit could certainly pass for a cheerleader uniform.
"Hi," Rose smiled, hoping that if she put an effort into being friendly to her, the girl would take a hint and improve her attitude towards her. "How's it going?"
"Fine," Hailey replied, not even looking at her. "You?"
"Good," Rose said happily. And it was true. She was tired, and feeling really good after cross-country practice and the tidal wave of giddiness she'd gotten from being invited onto the varsity team her first day, having spent a few really good hours being a girl with Regina, and finishing her day's homework, but she was good.
"Come on, Chibs," Evan smiled as he slammed his car-door and locked it, slinging an arm around Hailey's broad shoulders. Rose felt tiny in comparison to the taller girl. Maybe it was Hailey's utterly contemptuous expression when Evan had used her nickname. "Don't be nervous, okay—they're all gonna love you."
When he and Hailey turned up the path towards the house, Rose could have sworn she heard Hailey say, "Why'd you bring her?" Evan shot his girlfriend a dark look, and Rose thought it better to lose them as quickly as possible.
There were perhaps two or three dozen kids from junior and senior year at Baker High, scattered about the living-room and the outdoor patio of the mansion; music blared and the gorgeous open-plan kitchen had been turned into a bar. A blender whirred with margaritas and one already slightly tipsy guy in a varsity football letterman was trying to impress a couple of cheerleader-types with his skills with a cocktail-shaker—and failing. The TV was on, and several people were playing Guitar Hero, and the coffee-table had been converted into a beer-pong table. Outside in the lingering sunlight, on the illuminated patio, which was strung with twinkling lights and lanterns, someone in Kiss the Cook apron was grilling burgers and kebabs and sausages and ribs, and drinking two beers at once, and a group of kids at the patio table were playing Ring of Fire.
"Everyone!" Evan shouted, and dozens of people shouted their hellos and raised their drinks in salute. "This is Rose! Rose, this is everyone!" Rose smiled and waved awkwardly, suddenly all eyes on her. Several people waved and halloed and smiled at her. "Be right back," Evan said, kissing Hailey's cheek, and walked off to the kitchen for some beers and to greet Cocktail-Shaker Guy, leaving Rose standing beside Hailey. She glanced at Hailey out of the corner of her eye, already wishing she was tipsy. Tipsy-Rose was braver and flirtier than sober Rose. Everyone at her old school knew that. Tipsy-Rose was fierce, and nobody gainsaid Tipsy-Rose when she was on a mission. Whether it was walking to their favourite diner at seven a.m. in their pyjamas, still drunk, or getting out of the comfiest bed so she could sleep there, they did it. Hailey wouldn't dare look at Tipsy-Rose the way she had at cross-country practice earlier this afternoon.
She licked her lips. There was nothing for it. If Hailey wanted to be a bitch, she could, but Rose wouldn't give her any reason to be so. "So, Hailey…What was the team's score last year?"
Hailey shrugged. "We won more meets than we lost. Why? Worried the team's not good enough for you?" Rose's cheeks flushed at the sting.
"No," she frowned, liking Hailey less and less with each passing second. "I was just being polite and trying to show an interest. That's all."
Hailey sighed heavily, as if it were the worst thing in the world to actually turn to look at her. "We made it to counties, but we didn't win the final meet. Of course, Coach Smith thinks that with you around, it'll happen this year."
Her tone implied Hailey didn't think anything nearly so complimentary. In the back of her mind, she heard Pogue's voice, urging her to bitch-slap the attitude right out of this girl, but she just sighed, and glanced at Hailey. If she didn't take this opportunity, to nip it in the bud now, before it got too bad, when would she?
"You don't like me very much, do you?" she said quietly.
For a split-second, she thought Hailey's face may have softened, and she realised that she might actually be quite pretty if she wasn't always scowling, but a second later Rose thought she must have imagined it, for Hailey scowled and scoffed, before strutting off to Evan.
The sensitive, shy part of Rose took that slight to heart. She didn't know what she had done wrong to deserve the attitude from Hailey, and it hurt more than anyone might have guessed looking at her that a complete stranger would behave so to her. But the logical part of her brain, the part that helped her with Pogue, keeping him in line and making sure she didn't do anything she might regret—like ever not wearing leathers when she rode a motorcycle ever again—told her that if Hailey hadn't been able to give her a clear, intelligible response, she really had no reason not to like Rose, just didn't want her to know that. Evan broke away from the crowd of football player-types at the kitchen island already chugging beers, amid loud cheers, and Hailey saw him coming. She glanced at Evan, then at Rose, and reached out her arm to him.
"Come on, baby," she said, latching onto his side. Rose could have sworn she'd nibbled his ear. "Let's go find someplace more private."
"Cool," Evan said, handing Rose one of the beers. Rose stifled a shudder at the unflattering image she had just gotten in her head, and took the beer. "Go introduce yourself around, Chibs. The guys are dying to meet you," he added with a wink. Rose stood, watching Hailey's triumphant smirk as they retreated to a lesser staircase, raised the beer-bottle to her lips, and downed it in three gulps. The guys playing beer-pong cheered and one of them grabbed her and begged her to join his team.
Four beers later, Rose stood outside on the patio, the last bite of a juicy burger in her hand, sitting on the outdoor marble kitchenette counter, which was packed with food, swinging her legs childishly and chatting to Darnell Wilcox, the chief griller, host and birthday-boy, who had demanded birthday-kisses before he'd give her the burger Rose knew she'd need if she planned on not passing out before midnight. Rose wasn't a lightweight, far from it; she just didn't know how to pace herself, and drank too quickly, as if drinking a glass of water or juice.
"You know, this is the best dang Jell-O I've ever had," Rose said, picking up one of the little colourful plastic shots of Jell-O. They were small, but packed one hell of a punch.
"Made 'em myself," Darnell said proudly, grinning lazily; he'd been drinking steadily since three, he'd claimed, and his eyes were bleary and his kisses sloppy enough to attest to that. Rose giggled. "They've got…They've got vodka, and rum…and gin…and…hey! Who turned out the lights! Rosie, was that you?"
Rose giggled. The world was good again, now that she was buzzing on alcohol and having a good time, Hailey forgotten. Several people had digital cameras and were snapping photographs every few seconds. Rose reached up and tugged the Birthday Boy crown higher on Darnell's head, so his eyes were freed.
"Oh, tha's better," Darnell slurred, smiling adorably. "You know, Rosie, I like you, I really do. You're nice. You're not like a lot of those other," Darnell glanced around and his expression turned adorably naïve and impish at the same time, "bitches at school." He giggled and covered his mouth with his hand like a naughty schoolboy, and Rose giggled; he took a sip of beer as Rose downed another shot, and handed her the beer to hold. "You know, I'm so glad that you moved in with Evan, and that he brought you to my party. It's my birthday, you know?" Rose giggled, and told him she did know, and escaped him quickly enough that he couldn't corner her for birthday-kisses.
She made the rounds around the pool; some people were swimming, others just sitting at the side in underwear and boxers, and Rose talked to any and everyone, and made sure the guy lying on one of the pool-chairs was actually still alive. Yes, he was, just heavily intoxicated and fast-asleep; the music covered the sounds of his snores, and one of his friends went to go and find a Sharpie from inside.
Back on the patio, armed with Jell-O shots and snacks, she was invited to play a game of Ring of Fire—when she'd gotten another drink from the kitchen—a margarita this time—and was laughing with some of Evan's lacrosse buddies, and the two guys on the varsity cross-country team, and some of Hailey's friends when she drew the last king.
"No!" she wailed, covering her face with her hands. She knew what had gone into the pitcher in the centre of the circle of cards, a potent mixture of gin, rum, vodka, tequila, sambuka, ouzo, Jack Daniels, beer, cider, Southern Comfort, margarita, Jell-O shots and wine. "I can't drink it!"
"Chug, chug, chug!" the guys all chanted, and, glad she had already digested her burger, Rose took a deep breath and let it out.
"Alright, alright," she laughed, fending off the guys who were pushing the pitcher on her. "Hang on!" Knowing how the pitcher in Ring of Fire worked, Rose slipped her top over her head—amid raucous yells and cheers from the guys and drunken peals of giggles from the girls—and cast it onto the patio chair behind her, stood up, and took hold of the pitcher, took a deep breath, and raised it to her lips.
She did it. She chugged down every last drop of that disgusting, killer mix. The boys were cheering and yelling themselves hoarse, the girls had collapsed with giggles, and she set the empty pitcher down on the table, feeling very dizzy. Giggling, the alcohol going straight to her head, she was snapped up in photographs with the boys all hugging her.
She traipsed over to the grill, grabbed some snacks and a dessert, and went to pout at Darnell, who had taken her seat at the table, before he grabbed her hips and set her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. She was feeding him cheese-puffs and nachos with seven-layer dip when a cheer echoed around the garden, and sparkly-eyed Evan slinked out, looking well-sexed. A hickey throbbed near his collar-bone. Even drunk, she didn't want to think where else Hailey's lips had been.
"Nice hickey. Back from your sex?" Rose asked innocently, smiling at Evan. She had had enough alcohol that she thought she could even be nice to that bitch Hailey who didn't like her. Laughter echoed around the patio and garden, and Evan blushed.
"Rose…you're topless," Evan laughed; his voice sounded slurred, and Rose laughed.
"I won Ring of Fire!"
"You didn't win! You lost!"
"You lost so bad!"
"I won! I did win!" Rose protested against the drunken shouts, pouting and then laughing. "I did win. I won the big drink. The big…big drink." She motioned with her hands, and grimaced, then grinned at Evan. She settled back against Darnell's now-bare chest (strip-I Never had taken a turn for the worst for him, and he was now down to a cocktail napkin and socks, with Rose straddling one of his knees. Rose still had her underwear, as she had begun the game without her shirt. Everyone at the table was partially naked, something one of the girls pointed out that Evan wasn't. A new game of strip beer-pong began, with Rose as Evan's partner, against Darnell and the boy from the cross-country team, the good-looking one who had almost kept up with her.
After strip beer-pong had Evan down to his boxers, the music windows were opened so the music could be better heard, and they were all dancing—grinding, freaking, really—on the patio in their underwear, and then singing Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs when Darnell shouted that it was his birthday and that they had to worship him.
Rose sobered up for a little while, munching steadily on nachos and tater tots Darnell had found in the freezer and grilled, enough to join cross-country guy and some other girls in the pool in only her panties—so she didn't ruin her bra with the chlorine, of course!
"Rose…Rosie…Rosalie…" Evan's voice was slurred, and he was barely wearing his boxers; they were so low on his hips another inch would have been indecent; he staggered to his knees at the side of the pool, and then groaned as he lay down, clinging to the pavement, then shot her a wicked, sparkly-eyed grin when she swam over to him.
"What is it, cupcake?" Rose asked, for his boxers were for some reason printed with cupcakes.
"Rosie…I think…I think I want something to drink." Rose giggled.
"Well there's the bar, silly," she said, treading water, and pointed to the outdoor kitchenette.
"I think…I think I want a nap, instead."
"Oh, no, don't go to sleep! Lightweight!" Rose teased; Evan grumbled and smiled sleepily. She doused him with pool-water. He blinked at her, eyes wide, and then grinned devilishly before slipping into the pool and rough-housing with her. When her arms got too tired of treading-water and soaking Evan and playing with him, Rose climbed out of the pool, careful to cover her breasts, wary of the photographers, and scuttled over to a stack of fluffy beach towels by the kitchenette. Another game was halfway through and Rose, feeling the chill as she had never felt it at house-parties in North Carolina, went inside, wrapped in the towel, to curl up in the big armchair with cute cross-country guy, watching a movie. She didn't even know what it was; the colours blurred and the noise was all the same, and cute cross-country guy was very warm and comfy, and his soft snores were the last thing she heard, before Darnell threw a blanket over them, smoothing Rose's hair and kissing her forehead, acting extremely sweetly for someone so totally shit-faced.
A.N.: Okay, more like a uni party than a high-school party! Ring of Fire is always my downfall! I've never been good at card-games. Not even Spoons.
