by Bea Paige
A flash of annoyance ripples across his face before he nods tightly. “Brother, sure.”
“Eastern…” I begin, but he waves his hand, shutting me up. He’s not mentioned the kiss since it happened either. I’m pretty sure he’d rather forget it too.
“Seriously, Asia, you’ve got enough shit on your plate as it is. I’ll be fine. Aren’t I always?” he says with a cocksureness that neither of us really believe.
I breathe out slowly, glad that he isn’t a mind reader and can’t tell how twisted up I am over that hot as hell kiss we shared. The truth is, I care about Eastern a hell of a lot. He has been like a brother to me. He is family. I spent more time in his house than I did my own growing up. Every time my mum fucked up, I’d run to Tracy, and Eastern would be there to cheer me up. Even when I was dumped in the care of some random foster parent, I’d always end up back at their house, his mum a better mother than mine ever was. Eastern has become someone I rely on, but of late our relationship has shifted from being just friends to something more. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m going away to Oceanside. It’ll put some distance between us.
“Just be careful, okay?” I say, knowing that he’ll go ahead and do it regardless of what I say.
“Careful is my middle name,” he retorts, jumping up on his feet and brushing little specks of ash off his jeans. “You coming back for some grub? Mum’s made tuna pasta bake.”
I look up at him, shading my eyes from the sun that’s still bright despite it being almost six o’clock in the evening. “I love your mum, but I hate her pasta bake. Hard pass.”
Eastern laughs. “Yeah, it’s pretty disgusting. Want me to walk you to the bus stop?” he asks, holding out his hand. I take it, trying not to think too much about the way it feels grasped in mine as he pulls me to my feet.
“Nah. I can manage,” I retort, pulling my hand out of his grasp and folding my arms against my chest. He frowns but doesn’t push it. Eastern understands my need to be independent. Besides, I don’t need anyone to look out for me. I’m a big girl with quite a reputation around our estate. Messing with me is a serious no-no. The last person who did got a cracked rib and a shattered cheekbone.
“Fine. Suit yourself,” he shrugs. “At least come with me to Sasha’s party Saturday night. I could do with some back-up should she start getting needy.”
I burst out laughing. “No way, man. You got yourself into that shit with her, you can get yourself out of it. I warned you she was clingy.”
“Okay, fine. Don’t come as back-up, just come along. You’re leaving me Monday. Figured we could have one last blowout before you go,” he says, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the rooftop. Pretty sure his voice cracked a little with that statement.
“You make it sound like I’ve a choice in the matter. I’m not leaving you, Eastern. I have to go.” My own voice is a little wobbly and I fucking hate it. I refuse to be weak. Sucking in a breath, I give him a light punch on the arm. “Fine. One last blowout. You bring the weed; I’ll bring the booze. Yeah?”
He looks up at me, a wide grin cracking his face. “You’re on.”
“Okay, piss off and go eat that tuna pasta bake. I’ll swing by your place at nine Saturday night.”
“See you then, Alicia,” he responds, dodging my punch and running towards the edge of the roof.
“Asia, dickhead,” I shout out after him, laughter bubbling up my throat.
Half a minute later he’s lowered himself off the side of the garage roof. When he gets halfway down the alleyway, he stops, turning to face me.
“Tell the little carpet demons I’ll be visiting them whilst you’re gone,” he shouts, then without waiting for me to respond, jogs away.
My throat constricts, Eastern always has my back. Visiting my baby brothers for me whilst I’m away and looking out for them is just about the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I get this sudden tight feeling in my chest at his thoughtfulness. It makes me feel out of sorts, so I shove the feeling aside. Boundaries are being blurred and I know now more than ever that kissing Eastern had been a mistake. Getting close like that only ever fucks things up. I’m not one of those chicks who’d shag and run, that just isn’t me. Besides, I won’t lose him as a friend for a one-night stand. From this moment on, I make a promise to myself to put Eastern well and truly in the friendzone. At least then I know he’ll always take care of my baby brothers when I’m not around to do the same.
Another ten minutes pass before I climb down off the roof, enough time for me to steel myself for my final visit with my brothers before heading off to Oceanside. It’ll be another three months until I see them again at Christmas break, providing I even get through the first term, that is. I’d better make the most of this weekend, because it’s highly unlikely I’ll be doing any partying whilst at the academy. We all know it’s more like a prison than they let on.
3
Saturday night comes around sooner than I expected. In fact, the whole week since my hearing has rushed past in a blur like old father time is having a laugh and speeding up the hours just to screw with me. My little brothers, Sebastian and George, six and four respectively, were their usual adorable selves when I visited them the other evening and weren’t in the least bit worried about not seeing me for three months. The little buggers thought Oceanside sounded like some boarding school for magic kids in one of those books their foster mum likes to read them. I didn’t want to burst their bubble, so I just went along with it. They’ll have plenty of years to find out that life isn’t some great big fairytale.
Now, as I hold my finger against Eastern’s doorbell, I decide that tonight I’m gonna go all out and get shitfaced just like we’d planned. Might be the last time for a while.
“Alright, alright, hold your fucking horses,” Eastern shouts from the other side of his front door. Half a second later, he yanks it open and for a moment I allow myself to appreciate his sexiness before cussing him out like I usually do.
“Where do you think you’re going, dressed like some Eastend gangster born fifty years too late?” I ask him, cocking a brow and ignoring the low thrum of attraction that seems to want to screw with me these days. He’s wearing smart black trousers and a black shirt rolled up to the elbows with a white tie and a Crombie hat tilted jauntily on his head. Teamed with a pair of expensive white trainers that he nicked from the Nike store, he’s the perfect mash up of old versus new. Sasha’s not going to be able to keep her hands off him. I grit my teeth, bracing myself for the night ahead. He’s my friend. We might’ve shared a kiss but that’s it.
Friendzone, Asia. Fucking Friendzone, I remind myself.
Eastern grins, showing off his perfectly imperfect crooked teeth. I love the little chip in his front tooth, got when we played Knock Down Ginger. The irony is, he was actually knocked down when Mr Roberts of number fifty-eight sprinted after us and gave him a wallop that had him sprawling face first onto the pavement. We stopped playing the game after that. Tracy ripped us both a new one for annoying the neighbours and banging on their doors all day.
“Tom Hardy, eat your heart out,” he smirks.
“You been shopping at the charity shops again?” I laugh, ribbing him further.
He leans against the doorframe, making a point of looking me up and down. “Don’t talk to me about style, Asia, at least I don’t look like someone who’s had a fight with a rainbow and lost.”
His eyes rove over my outfit as he steps closer, a little too close for comfort if I’m honest. Grabbing the hem of my bright blue belly top, his finger skimming against the bare skin of my stomach, Eastern’s smile turns salacious.
“Love being different, don’t you?” he murmurs.
“Pot, kettle, black,” I retort.
I’ve never been one to follow the crowd. I wear what I want, not adhering to any kind of style. Mostly I like bright colours, just like the spray paint I use in my art. Every month I change my hair colour. Last month my dark brown bob was dyed green at the ends, this month blue. But I’ve pr
etty much had my hair all colours of the rainbow at one point or another. Right now, I’m glad that I matched my top with my newly dyed hair. Blue suits me even if I do say so myself. Paired with a short black denim skirt that shows off my wrap around tattoo that sits high on my thigh, I’m feeling pretty sexy.
“You do realise that looking this hot can get you into all sorts of trouble with the wrong kind of people,” he warns, a look I can’t quite interpret drawing his eyebrows together in a frown.
I grin to hide my sudden nerves at his closeness. “Did you just say I’m hot?”
“You’ve always been hot, Asia.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that, so I don’t.
“Seriously, that skirt barely covers your arse…”
“Maybe I’m looking for trouble?” I respond, shrugging.
“That so?” he questions, his fingers still feathering against my bare skin.
Suddenly the space between us has closed dramatically and that same chest-tightening feeling I’ve been getting around him lately snatches my breath. Eastern leans forward as though he’s about to kiss me, his mouth a few inches from mine. His dark eyes flick to my mouth as I suck in my lip ring. For long moments we stare at each other, neither one of us moving. The air is fraught with tension and I feel a sudden tingling warmth over my skin as his tongue runs over his bottom lip.
“What the hell are you doing, Eastern? Let Lissy come in and give me a hug, you great big oaf!”
Eastern pulls back sharply as I draw in a ragged breath, the rest of the universe rushing back into focus. Damn, that was close.
“Hey, Tracy,” I manage to say as Eastern stands aside, drawing a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and sticking one in his mouth. He lights up in front of his mum, not in the least bit bothered.
“Eastern, go smoke that cancer stick outside. I don’t want Braydon breathing in that muck,” she says, tapping him on the shoulder then wagging her finger at him.
“Sure, Mum,” he responds leaning in to give her a peck on the cheek before casting his gaze back at me. “See you in a second?”
“Give me sixty, need to say goodbye,” I murmur.
“Done,” he nods, the moment between us well and truly over. He strides off down the corridor, disappearing through the door outside.
“Lissy,” Tracy coos, opening her arms to me. “Give us a hug.” Her nickname for me has remained the same since I was a baby. She calls me Lissy, and I let her. So long as it’s not Alicia, I’m good. Stepping into her embrace, I allow her to pull me close. She smells of bleach and baby wipes, of hard work and love, a combination that should be gross but is somehow comforting to me.
“I’m going to miss you,” she murmurs, stroking my hair.
“I’ll miss you guys too,” I respond, willing myself not to get emotional. This isn’t goodbye, just a see you later. I will not cry like some baby. “You’ll make sure Eastern doesn’t get into too much trouble without me, won’t you?”
She laughs into my hair, giving me one last tight squeeze before letting me go. “He’s a good boy, he looks after the ones he loves,” she says, and we both know that she can’t promise he won’t get into any trouble, only that he’ll do anything to take care of them both. Including drug running it would seem.
“Give Braydon a kiss for me, okay?” I say, avoiding the sadness in her eyes. Instead, I run my finger over my barb wire tattoo that sits just beneath the hem of my skirt. I had it done when I turned fifteen. It represents my need for everyone to stay the fuck away. I only have room for a handful of people in my life and even then, I’m careful. I loved my mother and she fucked off and left me for drugs. Since then, I’ve found it hard to let anyone in. Eastern, Tracy, Braydon and my little brothers are literally all I have room for and that’s only because I’d already opened my heart to them before my mother died. I don’t think I have it in me to let another person in so that they can just disappoint me.
“Why don’t you come in and give him a kiss yourself?” Tracy suggests, cocking her head to the side as she looks at me.
I shake my head. “I’d rather not.”
She pats me on the arm gently, her warm smile filled with understanding. “That’s okay. I’m guessing too many goodbyes in one night is a bit much, yeah?”
“Maybe,” I mumble.
“Go on, go enjoy yourself, and make sure that son of mine lets Sasha down gently. He can be a bit of an arse with the ladies… excluding you, of course. Where you’re concerned, he’s the perfect gentleman,” Tracy says, her eyes flicking to the entrance door of the flats and the street beyond where Eastern is patiently waiting for me.
My cheeks colour as I sneak a look at her. Thankfully she doesn’t seem to have any clue about how our friendship has moved into uncertain territory. Eastern’s kiss wasn’t gentlemanly at all. In fact, it was downright sinful, but I’m not about to tell her that.
“I’ll make sure to tell him. Bye, Tracy,” I say, striding off before the tears welling in her eyes begin to fall.
“Bye, love. Take care,” she chokes out before I hear the door clicking shut.
Outside, leaning against the wall with one foot propped against the brick, Eastern waits for me. He turns when I stride through the door, the dark scowl on his face replaced with a sudden grin the moment he spots me. I’m pretty sure he’s plastering on the fake smile for my sake. Usually I’d ask what’s up, but we both know he hates the fact I’m going away to Oceanside as much as I do.
“Ready to party, Asia?” he asks, offering me a pre-rolled joint as he pushes off the wall.
“Too fucking right,” I respond, taking the joint and lighting it. “Let’s get out of here.”
Eastern smirks. “Last blowout for a while, eh?”
“Yeah, so let’s make it count.”
“I’m down with that.”
Taking his proffered arm, we stride towards the bus stop with purpose, knowing that in a couple of days I’ll be seventy miles away from the only home I’ve ever known and the only family I’ve ever loved. It may as well be the other side of the world.
4
We arrive at Sasha’s house just as the party’s getting underway. The place is heaving with people, and I’m already buzzing from the two joints we smoked on the way here and the two bottles of beer I’ve downed. I’m feeling reckless. A little voice in the back of my head is warning me to slow down, but I ignore it.
“Damn, look at all the people,” Eastern exclaims, salivating at the fun ahead. He loves to party, it’s his favourite pastime. Living with a disabled brother comes with a shitload of responsibilities that build up and crush him most days. Letting off steam is the only way to deal with the stress.
Sasha’s house is practically a mansion compared to the dingy flat I grew up in. Her dad owns a building firm and has a lot of cash to throw around. This party won’t be lasting all that long given the twitching curtains from the neighbours on either side and the very loud grime music blasting out of the house. A couple of guys I know from around my estate are having a fight in the front garden, no doubt over the girl who’s trying to break them up and failing miserably. Pretty sure the police will be rocking up soon. I make a mental note not to do anything too stupid, or at least not get caught.
“Her parents are away on a cruise apparently. The girl’s fucking crazy posting an open invite on Facebook. She’s asking for trouble,” Eastern says, as we stroll towards the front door. That explains it then. No one in their right mind would post an invite to a house party on social media, but this chick has. Her house is going to get trashed.
Adrenaline courses through my veins as I take a swig of the beer I’m holding. I’ve been to parties like this before. It ends in one of two ways. Either the police break it up, arresting those in possession of drugs or the parents return home and their kid gets beaten black and blue for holding the party. Sometimes both. I’m not sure if Eastern senses it too, but this night is going to get wild, and fast. I can feel it in my blood.
/> “How long do you think we have until the police turn up and shut it down?” I muse.
“Hmm, I would’ve said about an hour, but Sasha’s dad is a mean bastard and gives his neighbours shit, so they might be too scared to rat her out.”
“Best get inside then and make the most of it,” I respond with a grin.
Eastern taps his bottle of beer against my own then winks, tipping his Crombie hat at me. “Come on, girl. Let’s do this.”
Inside, the house is already trashed. Pictures hang off the walls, the place stinks of weed and spilt alcohol, and people are getting down to the music playing in the front room. I glance briefly inside and just see a mass of indistinguishable bodies grinding to the music beneath the fog of blue-grey smoke lingering in the air.
“Watch out,” Eastern says, pointing to a kid spread-eagled on the hallway floor, too drunk to stand. We step over him, and after a quick glance to see if he’s still breathing, I follow Eastern down the hallway. The house is even bigger inside than I first thought and there are couples getting it on in every available space. One particular guy is grinding against a girl, their noises of lust make my cheeks blush even as I feign disgust. He’s tall, broad, and I can barely see the girl caught beneath his chest and the wall, apart from her bare leg which is a stark white against the mocha skin of his large hand.
“Get a fucking room,” I snipe as we walk past them.
The guy raises his hand and flicks me the middle finger without even removing his mouth from the girl’s lips, then he proceeds to reach between them. Her responding moans tell me he’s put his hand somewhere wholly inappropriate given they’re in a hallway and everyone can see. I’m not a prude but I really don’t want to witness that.
“You want to get me into a fight, Asia?” Eastern laughs, dragging me away before I tap the bloke on the shoulder and tell him what I really think.
“I’m capable of fighting my own battles,” I retort, allowing Eastern to pull me along whilst chugging back the rest of my beer as we head into the kitchen.