by Lauren Price
“Deal,” I affirm, but truthfully I’m a little uncomfortable. I don’t want her to leave me with him, and I especially don’t want to be alone at this party. I watch her walk away for a good few seconds before I turn to Alec. “You can go back to your friends now.”
“I would but I have to speak to someone about something first.” Alec pouts slightly. “You should go after Violet.” He places the can of beer on the wall at the side of the steps and brings his other hand forward into my view. I stiffen as I register what he’s holding. Is that a cigarette?
When he lights it, I realise what it is. A joint, which he brings to his lips, puffing out a sweet and seductive smoke that burns my nostrils.
“Is that a spliff, Alec?”
He stares blankly back at me. “So what if it is?” There’s no playful ring in his voice any more. But judging by the defensive edge to his eyes, I’m treading on dangerous ground. I get nervous around people taking drugs, but I barely know him so I hardly have the right to tell him to stop. I analyse him for a few seconds before shaking my head.
“Nothing.”
A flicker of surprise flies across his face. I think he was expecting me to blow through the roof in righteous anger, but in all honesty I know that I haven’t got a say. It’s his decision. He stares at me for a few seconds, and I look back unblinkingly. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about. After a while, he cracks an empty smile.
“Good.”
That’s the only thing he says to me, and I’ve barely had a chance to register it before he walks away, into the party.
He drops the hardly smoked joint on the floor before he leaves.
Something about that small action makes me smile stupidly.
“Chug, chug, chug, chug!” the crowd cheers around me. I watch aghast as the person standing on the table gulps heavily from the bottle, spurred on by everyone’s rowdy support. As he turns to face the crowd, I see his face, and laugh when I recognise it as Joe’s. He’s going to have a killer hangover tomorrow morning. Next to him, a boy called Adam is sheepishly mopping up a cider he spilled on the expensive carpet. Judging by the amount of people in this room, I have no doubt this gorgeous house will be trashed in the morning.
“Hey.” Someone taps me on the back. I whirl round to see Dylan there, a coy smile on his slightly blurry face. “How are you finding the party?”
“It’s all right, thanks, how about you?” I say, grinning back at him.
I’ve spoken to Joe and Chase tonight, alongside various other people, but I haven’t spoken to Alec again since we first arrived. He’s currently in the corner of the large room with some of his friends – that Chelsea girl included. Being the new boy at his first party, he is the focus of rather a large amount of attention. The current rumour spreading about Alec is that he went joyriding in his ex-principal’s car. Whether or not that’s true I have no idea, but everyone seems to have decided he’s some kind of bad boy, so I guess it doesn’t even matter. Because people love a bad boy.
I’ve drunk a fair amount at this point. The buzz seems to dissolve my stress the more I consume. I’m glad I came, but I think that feeling’s only because of the alcohol.
“I’ve been good. Can I get you a drink?” Dylan offers politely. Violet is off getting me more vodka now, but I nod anyway. He passes me a can of cider, unopened.
“Thanks.” I beam. I can’t deny I’m a little bit tipsy.
“I never really pictured you drinking,” Dylan notes, watching me take a gulp.
I nod in agreement. “I don’t drink very often, fear not. Wanted to let loose a bit tonight, though.” My gaze drifts back to Alec in the corner, and I feel a surge of irritation rise up in me. Why is he so attractive when deep down he is a monster?
“To try to fit in?” he questions. “I guess we’re all guilty of that.”
“Yep,” I confirm, drinking from the can of cider again. “But there’s the perk of having no social life. I don’t have to try to fit in very often!”
“You have got a social life,” Dylan says, rolling his eyes. “You know me, Alec, Joe and Chase. You’ve got Violet, and I’m betting you have friends in your classes. Plus, correct me if I’m wrong, you’re at a party right now.” He gestures around to the mass of people dancing. The room is large and smells of money, alcohol and an undertow of sweat.
“I guess.” I wrinkle my nose. “But I’ve only just met you and the guys.”
“Yeah but we like you. You’re funny.”
“Funny?”
“Yeah. And you’re nice to be around.”
My heart stammers a little with that phrase. I’m nice to be around. I guess I’ve forgotten what it feels like to have many friends outside of Violet. I’ve never been close to what anyone could call popular, but the events of last year pretty much put an end to any friendships that I did have. I didn’t really think of trying to make new friends again. I’m lucky to have stumbled upon some.
“Alec isn’t talking to me.”
Uh oh. Alcohol talking, alcohol talking.
“And that upsets you?” Dylan raises an eyebrow skyward.
Yes. No. I don’t know.
“I don’t like him,” I say hurriedly, taking another gulp. “He’s a jerk. He seems to play around with girls a bit too. You’re actually nice.”
I need to start filtering what I’m saying out loud.
“He’s not that bad,” Dylan drawls, but I can see him smiling at the compliment. His hand goes out to hold my arm as I wobble slightly, but I don’t focus on the contact. Everything feels blurry, a little cloudy round the edges. Is Alec angry at me? Why do I care so much what he thinks? “To be fair, it’s not him that usually initiates anything. He has them under a spell at the minute.”
“People are all so superficial,” I sigh. “Alec and his reputation, and girls feeding off his reputation. Who cares?” The fame and attention Alec has received tonight – all week, actually – as the “new guy” verges upon sickening.
“Not the sane people.” Dylan shakes his head. “They don’t care.”
I finish the last of the cider and he takes the empty can.
“Hey, Riley.” Violet comes up beside me, but her gaze is focused on Alec in the corner. I think I mentioned to her at some point that he hadn’t spoken to me. I can’t remember. He’s kissing a girl now, but I don’t think she’s Chelsea. Violet holds a newly filled cup out of my reach as I try and grasp at it. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel good,” I sing, snatching it from her. “A bit buzzed.”
“Just let me know when you want to go home.” She rests a hand on my shoulder and looks at Dylan. “Hey, I’m Violet, Riley’s best friend. It’s Dylan, right?”
“Nice to meet you.” He smiles. “Think your best friend would want to dance?”
Violet glances at me, smiling. “I think she’d be silly to refuse.”
When I nod, he grabs my wrist and leads me further into the crammed dance floor, away from Violet. I teeter, hissing out a breath as the crowds jostle me back and forth. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I gulp down the strong lemonade in my cup eagerly. I’m going to be fine. The alcohol will take it away. I won’t be awkward and dorky any more.
Dylan and I dance and talk for a while, but I can’t seem to stop my eyes from straying to Alec in the corner. It seems the more I look, the more I drink. The fuzzier my head gets, the less I feel when looking at him. When Dylan asks me if I want to come with him to get another drink, I nod. He grabs my hand, and I eagerly stumble after him through the crowd. Alcohol is great. It makes everything so funny. I feel like Tony Stark in Iron Man, when he’s drunk and he blasts the watermelon and stumbles all over the stage. I love Iron Man.
My leg hooks round some other girl’s and I trip, landing awkwardly on my side. Everything shifts ninety degrees. I begin to giggle.
“Riley!” I hear Violet call.
People around me move. Dylan has released my hand. Strong arms hook up round the small of m
y back and I’m lifted onto a chair that has magically appeared behind me. My head spins as I struggle to make sense of my surroundings. Why is it so busy in this room? Some guy waves at me from the crowd, and I wave back. I wonder if anyone has any watermelon.
“Dude, did you not notice how much she was drinking?” I hear Alec groan at Dylan.
“I did notice, but she was good at disguising it!”
Violet kneels down before me, looking at me with her kohl-rimmed eyes. “Right, I’m going to get you some water and some food okay? Then I’m taking you home.” She looks over my head at something behind me. “Please look after her – don’t let her move.”
“I can’t go h-home,” I hiccup. “Mom will be soo angry.”
“Right. Well, we’ll figure something out, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“Please get me some watermelon,” I beg her.
She rubs my knee consolingly before she leaves. I don’t want her to leave me alone. I continue to hiccup. A warm hand follows the length of my arm and Alec sits before me, staring up at my face dubiously.
“How did you get so drunk?”
“I drank a lot. A bit too fast.”
“I got that. Why?”
“Because I wanted to,” I hiccup, looking around. “I don’t like parties.”
“Look . . .” He runs a hand through his hair, still assessing me. “You’re going to stay at mine tonight, okay? Violet can drop me and you back at my place, and I’ll make sure you’re safe. She has a test tomorrow and something tells me you’re going to be late to school. We can speak to your mom in the morning to smooth things out.”
“You can’t take advantage of me,” I warn.
Alec laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m not a complete prick.”
My head rolls back and I begin to giggle again at the sight of the ceiling. Violet and Dylan stand behind Alec with a cup of water and I eagerly reach for it. My throat is so dry, which is weird because I swear I’ve had loads to drink tonight. Gulping down the whole cup in essentially one go, I hiccup again. I kind of just want to go to bed now. I want brownies too.
“Right, time to move,” Violet announces. She moves before me, blurring a little around the edges. “Riley, we’re going home now okay?” I feel Alec slide an arm round my back, and I’m lifted from the chair into a standing position.
I nod.
“Dear lord, you’re drunk,” Alec mutters beside me as he helps me walk to the door.
“So not drunk.”
“You’re staggering.”
“Thank you.” I smile. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
Dylan begins to laugh, and I join in, although I’m not quite sure why.
As we make our way out into the hallway, the cold night air hits. Someone has left the front door open. There’s a boy throwing up in the plant pot and a couple kissing in the corner. Alec’s arm is warm round my back and he pulls me towards the door after Violet and Dylan, but that’s when something, or rather someone, catches my eye.
“Toby,” I murmur, staring at the figure.
“My name is Alec,” Alec sighs beside me.
“No, that’s Toby,” I repeat. Standing by the door with an easy smile on his face, as though this isn’t the one thing, as though he isn’t the one person that could blow my mind into oblivion and shock me to the core. He looks the same as he always has. Cold blonde hair and hazel eyes that are locked on mine. “That’s Toby.”
I resist against the front door as we pass him, craning my neck back to look at the boy. I glance forward but Violet is already outside. She hasn’t heard me. She didn’t see him.
“Come on, Riley.” Alec tugs me by the waist. “It’s time to go.”
Locked in the grips of an alcohol-infused daze and the warm arms of an attractive boy, I don’t resist.
7
Unexpected
Everybody that knows me knows that I am far from a morning person.
Awakening from a serene slumber into a blurred sense of reality is definitely not my ideal, much less what I look forward to. I always kind of envy those people who can wake up and think of nothing but the beautiful possibilities of the day ahead, of what they’re going to do and who they’re going to see. The word I’m looking for is positivity. These people have positivity in the mornings, and it’s a shame to say that I . . . well, I am the polar opposite. On a normal morning I am a sight for sore eyes, but on this morning in particular? Well this one is something spectacular.
Let’s just say that I don’t usually wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck. Twice.
I release a loud groan as I open my eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a headache of such ferocity before. What the hell have I done to myself to cause this kind of pain? I sit myself up in my covers, squinting as my eyes adjust to the morning light, only to regret it completely. When I scan my surroundings, my breath hitches in my throat. This isn’t my room. The scent of cologne hangs in the air. The navy walls, the bed, the lamp – all of it is familiar to me. A warm presence is sleeping soundly beside me.
I’m in Alec’s bed.
I cuss loudly, pushing the covers off me as soon as I realise. I claw the interior of my mind for anything, any information as to why I’m here. There was a party last night, but that’s all I can remember. I’ve woken up with the world’s worst hangover, albeit clothed, in Alec Wilde’s bed. I’m praying to God that this doesn’t mean what I think it does. I cautiously push the covers back from his sleeping form. He’s shirtless. I cuss again.
Panic bubbles tauntingly in my gut. How long have I been asleep? My mom is going to freak. I look down at the clothes I’m wearing. Baggy leggings and a male’s shirt.
Fudge.
“What’s with all the swearing?” Alec mumbles drowsily. He turns to face me, squinting in the light. His hair is messy and his exposed chest is tanned, and as angry and scared as I feel right now, part of me wants to curl up in his arms and fall back to sleep.
“You grasshole,” I hiss at him, enraged. “How could you take advantage of me like that? I don’t know what the hell happened last night, but for you to—”
“Jeez, turn the volume down a few decibels,” Alec grumbles, pushing himself up to sit next to me, leaning against the headboard. I daren’t look at him, focusing instead on the white covers in front of me. How on earth did I let myself get into this? I don’t remember drinking much at all. How did I even get here?
I force myself to speak calmly.
“What happened?”
“Of course you don’t remember.” Alec rolls his eyes. He sighs for a few seconds. “Let’s just say you got completely hammered last night. You didn’t want to go home because your mom would be angry, so Violet dropped you back here with me. And I promised her I’d look after you.”
“Why am I in your bed?”
“Well, actually, you specifically requested to sleep on the sofa so that’s where I left you,” Alec says with a yawn. “You slept down there for less than an hour, and then came into my room at about 3 a.m. and climbed into bed with me. When I tried to go downstairs, you started crying. You pinned me down and fell asleep and, well, here we are now.” He gestures at the two of us, lying in bed together. I can hardly believe what I’m hearing right now. What got into me?
“I’m sorry,” I croak. My throat is dry, and frankly, I have no idea what else to say. First of all, he had the decency to take me home after I apparently obliterated myself on alcohol. Then, he leant me clothes and put me to sleep, only for me to climb into his bed in the middle of the night and try to spoon him? I thought even my drunk self had a little more dignity than that.
Alec finally turns to look at me properly. “How are you feeling?”
“Not fantastic,” I mutter. “Hangover symptoms. I told you drunk Riley wasn’t fun.”
“I don’t know, I thought it was pretty amusing to be honest,” he teases. Pushing the sheets back entirely now, he shuffles down to the end of the bed and climbs over my feet. His bare fe
et, bed head and sweatpants make him look frustratingly adorable as he stands and looks at me. I must have drunk a lot.
“I’ll give you a minute to sort yourself out while I grab some breakfast. I woke up earlier and called your mom to let her know you were okay. She’s called you in late for school, so we’ve got a bit of time. She wants to speak to you as soon as you’re ready.” Yawning and tousling his hair, he steps out of the room and I’m left alone, my impending doom settling in on me.
I climb out of the bed and stare at myself in the mirror. My hair is sloppy, my make-up smudged around my eyes, but what is really striking is the soft expression on my face. As much of a son of a biscuit Alec can be at times, there’s no denying that he’s got a sweet side. Not many people would do so much for a girl who completely embarrassed herself. I tame my hair into submission with my fingers, doing the best I can to remove my make-up with a dry tissue from the box on Alec’s nightstand. The rest can wait until I get home.
Alec comes in after about five minutes, carrying a tray complete with toast, pills, orange juice and two cups of coffee. I perch daintily on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to say when I have so many questions running through my mind. Alec sets the tray between us and instantly reaches for a piece of toast.
“You should eat, Greene,” he says, through a mouthful.
I pick up the coffee and hold the warm mug in my hands. “So where’s your mom? Where’s Millie? Do they know I’m here?”
“Mom left early to go to work; she dropped Millie at kindergarten. I guess we’re lucky that she didn’t walk in this morning – she might have had quite a shock.”
“You’re going to keep this from her?”
“She would kill me if I told her.”
“Fair enough,” I say. I sense that he may want to change the subject. “I must have really gone overboard if I can’t remember anything.”
“You were pretty bad. You said it was because you didn’t like parties.”
“That seems about right,” I murmur. I think about last night and begin to remember slightly – at some point I decided it was a great idea to drink myself through the ordeal. I was also upset that Alec wasn’t talking to me, even though I had no real reason to be. Mental note: you need to stop that. I guess it just spiralled.