by C. J. Duggan
Ma’am?
‘Why, thank you,’ I said, taking the flute with enthusiasm, saluting him.
Another glass wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
Chapter Eleven
‘Speech, speech!’
There was a clinking of glasses and cheers as Uncle Peter sheepishly went to stand beside Aunty Karen.
Were they serious? Was I at a wedding? They were renting their home out, they weren’t signing up to be enlisted. I watched on as Uncle Peter gave a heartfelt, witty speech that had me rolling my eyes. I took another sip from my glass, looking out over the pool, thinking how I would have given anything to have Uncle Eddie here, drunk and screaming ‘CANNONBALL’ while bombing in the pool, dousing everyone in a tidal wave of water. The very vision of it made me snort. I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle the sound, earning me a glare from Amanda. Seeing as everyone was so engaged in Uncle Peter’s speech, I took the moment to flip Amanda the middle finger with a smile.
Yep, one last day of putting up with you.
Amanda turned away from me, focusing on her parents once more.
Pfft, whatever.
I tilted my glass back, only to find it was empty, damn it. The magical, nasty-tasting liquid was working a treat. I was far more fascinated by the layers of my skirt and how the fairy lights picked up the faint sparkle of the material than my uncle’s boring-arse speech.
‘And we just want to wish our beautiful niece a happy eighteenth for tomorrow.’ Aunty Karen’s voice rung out over the partygoers. Standing on her tippy toes, she called out, ‘Where’s Lexie?’
O-oh.
I edged back a little, hiding behind a potted palm near the house.
No sudden movements, Lexie, be stealth like a jungle cat.
‘There she is!’ Lucy’s shrill voice rang out and everyone turned in the direction she pointed … Could it get any worse?
‘Happy birthday to you …’
Oh God, Aunty Karen was singing, waving on the crowd to join in. And they did.
‘Happy birthday, dear Leeeexiiieeee …’
I smiled weakly, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow me whole. This champagne was pretty good but not enough to numb my senses entirely. Where was a fucking waiter when I needed one?
‘You know, it seems like only yesterday that Lexie was running around naked under our sprinkler,’ laughed out Aunty Karen.
Oh dear God, make it stop.
‘Or that one time she went over her handlebars at Christmas time and ended up in Emergency,’ added Uncle Peter, causing people to laugh. Yeah, the two of them were a regular stand-up comedy duo.
I had to get out of there, and as soon as the topic shifted to their beloved, smart, beautiful, kind and loving Amanda I knew that was my cue to leave. Skimming along the back wall now everyone was looking at Amanda with doe-eyed affection, I took my chance to step inside the kitchen, taking a moment to casually lift a bottle of champers off the ice and continue my merry way with champagne flute in hand, through the lounge, into the foyer and out the front door.
•
Dressed up and nowhere to go be damned! It was going to be my last night in Paradise and I wanted to party. Bottle in one hand, heels in the other, I walked along the beach, thinking if I followed the long half-moon sweep to those sparkling lights of the city in the distance, that would lead me to where I had to be. I zigzagged along the edge of the water, the waves at times surging forth and riding a little too high up my legs, causing me to squeal and laugh as I nearly lost my footing in the sand.
I walked forever, even the unopened bottle in my hand was starting to feel heavy. I aimed to rectify that situation as soon as possible. I stopped, juggling my shoes, glass and bottle. Squinting at the top with the aid of streetlights on the embankment above the beach and the fullness of the moon, I cursed when I realised it was a bottle with a cork. Crap, how did you get these things out and not take an eye out? I was seriously not very worldly, even now on the verge of … wait a minute. What was the time? Surely it was past midnight? Could it be? Was I officially eighteen?
No watch, no mobile: I had no way of knowing. I spotted a flickering mass further up the beach where a cluster of people were enjoying some music and a bonfire on a summer’s night.
I trudged on, excitement clawing at my soul. I neared the circle of party-goers, approaching tentatively. ‘Does anyone have the time?’ I cringed, having interrupted a group conversation, causing them to stop and turn to me.
‘Lexie?’
I turned to the voice from across the opposite side of the group. Boon approached, his eyes shifting over my cocktail dress, half drenched from the ocean, heels, champagne flute and bottle in my hands.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked gently, as if he was afraid to spook a wild animal, which wasn’t too far from the truth.
‘I’m just fine and dandy, thanks.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘There.’ I used the bottle to point towards the sparkling city lights; the glowing, bright lights of the Ferris wheel were a beacon in the distance to guide my way.
Boon breathed out a laugh. ‘Do you have any idea how far that is?’
I squinted in the distance. I had been walking forever and yet it still didn’t seem like I had got any closer. It felt like a cruel optical illusion.
‘Is it more than a bottle of champagne away?’ I asked.
‘I think it would be a good crate of champagne away, maybe two. And by the time you arrived you’d need your stomach pumped.’
‘Yeah, well, I don’t even know how to open this bloody thing so I think I’m safe,’ I said, tugging and twisting at the cork. ‘Ugh, can you open this for me?’ I pouted, holding it out to him.
‘Do you think that’s really a good idea?’
‘Well, how else am I going to make my way there? I’m going to need some sustenance.’
‘A drunk girl wandering off into the night – yeah, that’s a good idea.’
‘Are you going to open it or not?’
‘Or not,’ he said, refusing to take it from me.
‘Thanks for nothing,’ I said, shoving it under my arm and turning to continue on my journey.
‘Lexie, wait.’
Boon caught me by the arm, moving to stand in front of me. ‘Where do you wanna go? I’ll give you a lift.’
My ears pricked up. ‘Really?’
‘Come on, I’ll take you home.’
‘Home? I don’t want to go home.’ That was the last place I wanted to be. I wanted to make this night, my last night, count.
‘So where are you going then?’
‘I was going to drop into Video Ezy,’ I said, to give your sister a piece of my mind, I thought.
Boon stopped, causing me to run into him. ‘Geez, watch it.’
‘Video Ezy? Why?’
I shrugged. ‘I need to return a video.’
Boon eyed me sceptically. ‘You don’t look like you need to return a video.’
‘Well, I’ll have you know this dress is very deceptive.’
‘Is that so?’
‘It’s like a Swiss army knife.’
‘Really? That’s impressive.’
I lifted my chin defiantly.
‘I’m still not taking you there.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s quarter past twelve, they’re shut,’ he said, continuing to walk up the sandy embankment.
‘Oh,’ I said.
Wait a minute, quarter past twelve.
‘Holy shit, Boon,’ I yelled out.
Boon paused at the top of the track, looking back at me with a sigh.
‘I’m eighteen!’ I laughed, lifting my hands to the night. ‘Wooohooo!’
Boon shook his head. ‘God help us.’
Chapter Twelve
Seeing as I couldn’t take my frustrations out on Laura, the winner of the worst-supporting-friendship award, I had to take my frustration out on the next best thing, and seeing as I was now safely t
wenty-one minutes into adulthood, I couldn’t wait to give Dean Saville a piece of my mind. I had nothing to lose. In fact, I had lost everything I had ever really wanted because of him. He existed purely to make my life miserable without even really trying.
‘All right, birthday girl, you’ll have to leave the bottle here.’
‘Fine, you can have it, it’s warm.’ I passed it to Boon, who grabbed it from me and walked to the skip across the car park, turfing it inside with a clank and a smash.
‘So who are you meeting here again?’
I cleared my throat, momentarily forgetting what I had said. ‘Oh, um, Cassie. I’m meeting Cassie.’
‘Behind-the-bar Cassie?’
‘Yep!’
Please don’t come in, please don’t come in.
‘So how are you getting home?’
Oh my God, Boon was worse than my parents. ‘Cassie’s going to give me a lift. Stop worrying. Geez, do you give Laura the third degree when she goes out?’
‘Laura is home reading books in her bedroom like a good girl.’
‘You hope,’ I scoffed.
‘I know my sister.’
I was going to say that my aunty and uncle probably thought they knew me, yet here I was standing out the back of the Wipe Out Bar tipsy, barefoot and ready to party. I patted myself down as if I was searching for car keys. ‘Crap!’
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Boon, not really wanting to know the answer.
‘You don’t have any money, do you? I left my purse at home.’
Boon sighed. ‘Bloody hell, Lexie, I thought your dress was like a Swiss army knife.’ Reaching into his back pocket and flipping out his wallet, he flicked through his money, choosing a golden note over the orange. I smiled, bless his soul. ‘Here,’ he said, handing me the fifty.
‘Aww, thanks, Boon, I’ll pay you back.’
‘Yeah, well, just don’t go skipping town.’
My smile fell away, my heart clenching at how real that was, that I would be skipping town tomorrow, no doubt. I shook off the feeling, instead embracing the lively, warm buzz the champagne had afforded me.
‘I better go. Cassie’ll be waiting.’
‘Just lay off the champers maybe for a bit,’ he said with a smirk.
‘I’m eighteen now, remember?’ I said, smiling and wrapping my arms around him, hugging the life out of him. ‘Thanks, Boony, you’re a legend.’
Boon laughed, causing his toned warm frame to vibrate, as he gently unlinked my vice-like grip from around his rib cage.
‘Wow, high praise, indeed,’ he said.
‘No, seriously, you are. Amanda was a bloody idiot to break up with you.’
And just like that, all the humour drained away from Boon’s face; I inwardly cursed my big mouth.
‘Um, anyway, thanks for the ride,’ I said, backing away and heading towards the flashing lights and pounding music.
•
‘That will be fourteen dollars.’
‘What?’
‘Fourteen dollars,’ yelled the barman, shouting over the music.
I snatched the menu off the bar, my eyes frantically searching for the cocktail I’d just ordered. ‘Holy shit, fourteen dollars. Are you serious?’ My horrified gaze lifted from the menu to the barman, who looked like he was losing patience.
I begrudgingly handed over my fifty-dollar note, mentally calculating how far it would get me, and added ‘ridiculous prices’ to the list of things I was going to have a go at Dean for – a noticeably absent Dean, mind you.
It was a pumping Friday night but I didn’t recognise anyone. The bar staff were different and there were no tables of families dotted around at this late hour. Only groups of people, and girls on a hen’s night squealing and laughing at a nearby table. The massive open space on the far side of the bar that just looked like a big square of parquetry flooring during the day was now transformed into a giant dance floor with a sea of flailing bodies getting down to a live band. Things were certainly different from how I had seen it before. Maybe the Wipe Out Bar was the place to be.
The barman dumped my change into my hand.
Bloody rip-off.
I struggled to find a place to put my change, mostly my coinage, so being the classy beast that I am, I opted to wedge it into my bra. I took my cocktail, ensuring that I would sip slowly on it. It tasted much better than the champagne. I turned, lifting my eyes to the office upstairs, wondering if that’s where the ogre was right now, hovering over the monitors.
The heat in the bar was overwhelming, and the bodies vying for the bartenders’ attention were aggressive in their pursuit as they mimed numbers with their hands and shouted their orders. Service was always fast and efficient, but tonight they were literally running up and down the bar, their hands working like lightning. I chewed on my straw, watching, thinking there was no way I could do that. How could they remember all the ingredients in the drinks? Maybe Dean had done me a favour by not employing me. Not that I’d ever admit that to him.
With my elbows tucked in I attempted to move against the flow of bar traffic. ‘Excuse me, sorry, excuse me.’ Even though I was still feeling the buzz of bon voyage champagne with a layer of a vodka cocktail I still felt a little out of my depth and woozy on my feet. A combination of booze, heels and limited space and it was like I was in a pinball machine, losing my balance then slamming hard into someone’s back and spilling my drink on me and him. He was tall and tanned and … hello.
‘I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz.’ I shook my hand and wiped at my dress and at the boy’s shirt before thinking, yep, okay that’s probably even worse. I cringed at the now dark blue stain.
‘Hey, it’s okay,’ he laughed, hitting me with a blinding smile that was almost more overpowering than the alcohol I had consumed. ‘What’s your name?’ Mr Tall, Tanned and Blond asked. He looked like one of those fitness fanatics you see running along the beach at some ridiculous hour of the morning.
‘Lexie,’ I shouted above the music.
‘Oh, sexy Lexie, hey?’ he said with a wide grin.
Ugh. He just lost major points there.
He must have read as much on my face as he quickly changed his tune. ‘So, what are you drinking? Or should I ask, what am I wearing?’ He glanced down at his shirt.
‘Look, I’m really sorry, I’ll grab some serviettes.’
‘Don’t worry about it, it’s cooled me down.’ He laughed; he had a nice laugh. ‘I’m Dan,’ he said, extending his hand.
‘Dan the man, hey?’ I quipped.
‘Ah, yeah,’ he winced, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘How about I buy you a drink, make up for that little embarrassment.’
‘I think I should be buying you a drink,’ I said with a laugh, and then instantly regretted it, thinking about how expensive the drinks were.
‘I insist. Wait here. What are you having?’
‘Oh, um, a Midori Illusion.’
Dan took my empty tumbler and winked. ‘Back in a sec.’
I felt my tummy flutter with butterflies watching Dan cut a clear path towards the bar, his big imposing frame making his way through the crowd with ease as he manoeuvred into a spot against the bar and lifted his hand up, grabbing a bartender’s attention straightaway. He was the kind of boy who would grab your attention too, and he was buying me a drink – happy birthday, indeed.
Dan motioned from the bar to move over to a less crowded area, which I was happy to do, nudging my way to the edge of the dance floor where high round tables and stools were dotted.
‘Here you go, one Illusion.’ He placed the tumbler carefully in front of me.
‘Thanks, I’ll try not to spill it on you this time.’
‘Oh, I don’t know, I think I could go for matching sleeves.’ Dan smiled, his elbows leaning on the tabletop. ‘So what’s a girl like you doing in a dive like this anyway?’
I was a bit taken aback by the question. ‘I don’t know. Is it that bad?’ It was really the only bar I had been to in Parad
ise. As much as I had dreaded walking through these doors on various occasions, there was a part of me that felt a little defensive of that statement.
‘The band’s good,’ I said, just in time for a cover of a Eurythmics classic to start blaring out of the speakers. ‘Oh my God, I love this song.’
Dan laughed, taking my drink from my hand and placing it on the table. ‘Well, let’s go burn up this dance floor then.’
What? I looked at my drink being left behind, ‘Oh no-no-no, I don’t have to dance to it, I just said I liked it.’
Dan took me by the hand, dragging me onto the dance floor. ‘Come on, Lexie, live a little,’ he said, spinning me around. ‘Come show me what you got.’
It was useless to fight against his strong hold. He flung me around like a rag doll. He was built and at least six foot, so he towered over me.
‘I didn’t take you for a dancer,’ I yelled above the music.
‘Well, I have to dry off my shirt somehow,’ he said with a laugh.
Yeah, that joke was getting kind of old.
I did love to dance. At any gathering I was always the first to stampede towards the dance floor to do the ‘Nutbush’ or the ‘Time Warp’. I loved the freedom of it, feeling the music and having fun, but this wasn’t really dancing, there was nothing freeing about this. Dan kept twisting and flinging me around on the floor. I felt dizzy and powerless to break away from him. He turned me before yanking me towards him, hitting his chest hard, almost knocking the breath out of me as he caged me in his arms, circling my waist as he changed the tempo to slow.
The multicoloured hues from the lights flashed across his face, casting it into shadows, and all of a sudden he didn’t seem so friendly anymore. The way he looked down on me was predatory and the way his hands slid across my back made my skin crawl.
‘I think I’m going to sit this one out. My feet are killing me,’ I said, trying to pull away.
‘No problem,’ he said, picking me up so I stood on the top of his giant feet. ‘Problem sorted.’ He laughed. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, the bitter tang of it made me cringe and now I felt even less in control as he danced me around like a puppet.