by Bea Paige
“I know that. Doesn’t mean I won’t jump in to save your arse though.”
Depositing the bottle on the kitchen table, I punch his arm lightly. “Ah, my knight in shining armour,” I respond with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
Eastern just shakes his head, dumping his empty bottle on the table too, cluttering it up even more than it already is. This room is just as trashed as the rest of the house. Empty bottles of booze are stacked up on every available surface. Most of the kitchen table is stained dark with spilt drink, and some douchebag wannabe gangster and his gaggle of bitches are huddled around the end of the table cutting up coke and snorting it up their noses.
“Nice,” I mutter, my back tensing. I might smoke weed but I’ve never, and will never, touch anything harder. No way.
Eastern takes my arm and steers me out of the back door and into the garden. He knows how I feel about hard drugs. I hate them and I hate that tomorrow he’s going to deliver speed for Nash. I know why he must take the job, I get that, but I don’t have to like it.
“You alright?” he questions.
“It’s their lives. I don’t really care what they choose to shove up their noses so long as I don’t have to watch.”
“Fair enough.”
We find a spot in the back garden on a low wall and watch the crowd, taking our measure of the place. There are at least another thirty people hanging around outside. Most of them are our age, a handful are a few years older, but I don’t think there’s anyone here over the age of twenty. For a while we sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company and sharing yet another joint. It’s always been easy like this with Eastern, sometimes words just aren’t necessary. I’m going to miss him. A lot. I won’t tell him that though, don’t want him getting any funny ideas.
Eastern points to the back fence and an open gate. “Our quick exit, should we need to run,” he says, knowing as well as I that at some point tonight the police will arrive, and we’ll need to get the hell out of dodge.
“Clocked it,” I respond, reaching into the plastic bag I brought with me and pulling out two more beers. Eastern places the lip of the bottle on the edge of the low brick wall, angling it slightly before slamming his palm against the bottle top. It pops off with ease. He does the same to the second bottle then hands it to me.
“Cheers,” he says.
“Cheers,” I respond, swallowing a mouthful even though I know that the third bottle of beer I drunk should’ve been my last.
“Seen Sasha yet?” I ask.
Eastern points to a spot opposite us where Sasha is sitting on the lap of some kid who looks like a poorer version of Eastern. The chick’s got it bad if she’s hooking up with lookalikes now. Her arms are draped around the boy’s neck, her long brown hair tumbling over them both as she leans in for a kiss, but not before she pointedly looks in Eastern’s direction.
“See she’s moved on,” I remark, lifting my bottle of beer in her direction. She responds with a dirty look. Whatever.
Eastern grins. “Thank fuck for that. I was getting tired of her begging text messages. We hooked up once months ago and suddenly she thinks we’re a couple. The whole fucking world knows the only girl I have eyes for is you…”
I jerk my head around waiting for the familiar laugh to tell me he’s joking, but it doesn’t come. Instead he just looks at me, daring me to say something. For the first time in my life, the words won’t come, and I’m left speechless. I’m so shocked that I don’t even notice another girl come pelting towards us both before it’s too late. My drink flies out of my hand and crashes to the concrete, beer splashing against my skin as she throws herself into Eastern’s arms.
“Eastern!!” she screeches. The blonde bombshell whirlwind that the voice belongs to lands in his lap, practically knocking him into the flowerbed behind us as she plants a kiss on his cheek.
“What the fuck?!” I exclaim, ready to grab her by her fake extensions and yank her to the floor. Bitch.
“Oh, shit. Sorry!” the girl singsongs, smiling widely, her cute button nose crinkling up as she takes a good look at me. It’s not a mean look, just a curious one. Either way I hate her already, especially since she’s sitting in my best friend’s lap and he’s looking as guilty as fuck. Urgh, this is typical Eastern. Why in the ever-loving fuck did I kiss him and mess up my feelings towards him? Before we smacked our lips together this kind of thing wouldn’t have bothered me. Now, now it does, and it pisses me off.
“And who the hell are you?” I growl, narrowing my eyes at the supermodel whilst absentmindedly wiping at the spilt beer on my bare leg. Great, now I smell like the grotty pub on the corner of our estate.
“I’m Opal, and you must be Eastern’s bestie, Asia, right?” she retorts, thrusting her hand out for me to shake. The fact she knows who I am, but I don’t know who she is pisses me off even more. Eastern tells me everything, or at least he did. Looks like I don’t know him as much as I thought. Raising an eyebrow, I ignore the pretty blonde with her pert tits and long legs and glare at Eastern instead.
“Only have eyes for me, eh?!” I snort, rolling my eyes before standing and striding away from them both.
“Asia, wait. I can explain,” he retorts, swearing under his breath at the same time he stands lifting the girl up and placing her on her feet.
“Don’t fucking bother.” I glare at him over my shoulder. She’s still hanging onto him like a limpet and he’s not even bothering to unravel her arms from around his waist. That tells me all I need to know. He’s such a goddamn lothario.
“Alicia, wait!”
But I continue to walk away, lifting my hand up and giving him the finger as I do. He doesn’t follow me, knowing me better than that. In this frame of mind, I’m likely to lash out before thinking and even though he’s hurt me, I don’t want to hurt him like that. I draw the line at knocking out my best friend.
Inside the kitchen, the same arseholes who were snorting coke are now buzzing, talking ten to the dozen. The guy who was acting like a kingpin earlier, sidles up to me as I pour myself a generous measure of rum with a splash of cola.
“What?!” I snap, chugging back half the glass before slamming it back on the counter.
“You looking to hook up, pretty lady?” he asks me, his gaze fixed firmly on my chest and not on my face.
“Do I look like I’m wanting to hook up?” I growl, my anger bubbling over.
He has the audacity to lift his hand to my face and press his finger against my lip ring. It reminds me of Eastern, and that reminds me of the leggy bitch who he’s talking with right now in the back garden. I see red.
Pulling my fist back I punch the dickhead straight on the nose. He might be bigger than me, and probably a whole lot stronger, but he’s also high and wasn’t expecting me to hit him. I watch him sprawl backwards, then land another blow in his gut for good measure. He goes down with a thud, knocked out cold. His gaggle of girls scream and fawn over him.
“Next time ask before you fucking touch,” I snarl, grabbing my drink and downing the rest before striding from the room and walking headfirst into a hard chest. “Fuck sake!” I spit, pushing against the wall of muscle in my way. The wall of muscle doesn’t move.
Looking up, I find myself toe to toe with the guy I saw making out with the faceless girl in the hallway not so long ago. Even though I didn’t see his face, I know it’s him from the clothes he’s wearing and the cockiness that oozes from him. He smirks at me, his blue eyes startling bright; two topaz gems contrasting beautifully with his dark skin. Despite myself, I’m a little floored by them, and the boy they belong too. He’s hot and he knows it. Dangerous too, that much I sense beneath my anger and drunkenness.
“Next time you decide to knock one of my boys out, ask my permission first, yeah?” he states, folding his arms across his chest as I take a step back.
“He’s one of your boys?” I smirk, ignoring my sixth sense and the sudden warning bells that tell me not to mess with this guy. Trouble is I’m too
damn angry at Eastern and that prick who just tried to chat me up to pay any attention. Plus, I’m high, and drunk. Stupid.
“That’s right, and I’m a little possessive about the things that belong to me.”
“Is she one of your possessions too?” I ask, glaring at the girl he was practically fucking in the hallway a few minutes earlier. She’s standing beside him now blocking the gap in the doorway I was just about to dodge through. She’s as blonde as the bimbo who just threw herself into Eastern’s arms a minute ago. In fact, she looks eerily like her. Twin maybe? She smiles at me, but it’s not a friendly smile in the slightest. She’s looking at me like I’m some kind of threat. As if! I wouldn’t touch this bloke with a ten-foot pole.
“Everything alright, Camden?” she purrs, her voice practically dripping with fuck-me vibes. She can’t be much older than I am, but her all-knowing sexual vibe has me feeling inferior all of a sudden.
“Don’t worry, love. I’ve no interest in your man,” I say, prickles of anger running across my skin. My eyes rove over Camden as he takes his measure of me, and whilst he’s good looking with incredible eyes, he also has an intensity that screams danger. Something about his confidence and calmness has my heart stuttering with warning. But tonight, it would seem I’m looking for trouble, so rather than backing down I stand my ground and fold my arms across my chest readying myself for a fight. If this bimbo says one word out of turn, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from launching at her. Fuck the consequences. Let’s see if Eastern will be my knight in shining armour then?
“I’m not her man. I don’t belong to anyone,” the guy says, smarting. Next to him the girl flinches, hurt flashing across her face.
“Well, that makes two of us. So why don’t you tell your boy that too,” I snarl, pointing over my shoulder at the kid still laid out cold on the floor. “And any others who think they can touch me without permission,” I add, glaring at him.
“I’ll think about it,” he retorts, moving aside as I shove past him and his bit of fluff and head for the front door. “I’m surprised you’re running,” I hear Camden say, a challenge in his voice. “Seems like you’re the kind of chick who does what the fuck she wants and damn the consequences.”
I pull up sharp at his words. For whatever reason this guy is laying down the gauntlet. Normally, I wouldn’t bite, but tonight I’m way past reckless.
“Actually, I came to party. So, I’m going to party,” I growl, twisting on my feet and ignoring the sudden wave of giddiness from smoking too much weed and drinking too much alcohol. Fuck Eastern, fuck the leggy blonde, fuck that dickwad in the kitchen and the punk who’s staring at me now thinking he’s some tough nut gang leader. Fuck the judge sending me to Oceanside, but most of all; fuck my life.
I’m here to party, so I’m going to party.
5
For ten minutes I dance, moving to the angry Grime music, my body crushed within the crowd of other drunk and pissed-off youths. There’s something about this music that gets your blood pumping and the anger flowing. It suits my mood right now. I’m angry at the world.
“Alicia!”
I hear his voice over the din, but I choose to ignore it. I don’t want to talk to Eastern right now.
“Alicia, for fuck sake, look at me,” he bites out, his voice filled with an anger of its own.
“What do you want, Eastern? Can’t you see I’m dancing here?” I snap, as he pushes his way through the crowd.
“I’ve given you time to calm down. Now will you let me explain?”
“No, now fuck off back to perky-tits.”
Turning my back on him, I raise my arms in the air and allow my body to move to the beat of the music, fully aware that in doing so I’m flashing the black lace of my bra. I hear Eastern mutter something under his breath then feel his hands land on my hips, his fingers digging into the material of my skirt. He presses up against my back, his body flush with mine before he leans down and presses his lips against my ear.
“You’ve got it all wrong, Alicia,” he murmurs, the tenor of his voice dropping as his fingers slide across my stomach. For all of two point five seconds I lean into his hold, before common sense snaps me out of it.
Friendzone, Asia. Fucking friendzone. Plus, you’re angry with him, remember that too.
Turning in his hold, I push away from him, bumping into the person behind me who’s far too high to open their mouth with some smart remark, let alone react physically.
“You’re my friend, Eastern. I really don’t give a shit who you fool around with. I’m more pissed that perky-tits knew my name and I don’t have a clue who she is. And stop calling me Alicia, you know I hate it!”
“You really are full of shit, you know that, Alicia?” he bites back, grabbing my arm and pulling me back towards him. “You’re jealous. Admit it. You want me, just as much as I want you.” His eyes darken, daring me to deny it.
“We’re friends,” I insist, doing exactly that.
“We’re more than just friends, and you damn well know it.”
I attempt at pulling my arm away, but he refuses to let me go. “Get your hands off me, or so help me, Eastern, I will knock you out.” But Eastern doesn’t let me go, if anything he squeezes tighter. Pain, anger and something else I don’t want to admit to flashes across his face. My chest tightens because despite everything I’ve said and my determination to keep him in the friendzone, I want him this close to me. This push and pull within me is driving me insane.
“Let go,” I repeat.
“You heard her. Unwrap your hand from her arm, and let her go,” a familiar, commanding voice says from behind me.
I tense. What the fuck does he want? To my surprise, Eastern immediately drops my arm, his gaze flicking between me and Camden who is standing so close behind me that I feel the heat of his skin through the thin material of my t-shirt. What the hell is going on here?
Turning around slowly, I face Camden. “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. In my intoxicated, rage-filled mind I don’t take into account the dangerous way he’s looking at me, or the fact that his command has made Eastern back off. Alarm bells should be ringing right about now, but instead I’m letting that internal hurricane of mine take over.
“Well?” I insist, prodding his chest with my finger. I have to look up at him, given he stands a good foot taller than me and a few inches taller than Eastern.
“Asia, don’t,” Eastern warns me. His fingers curl around my wrist, but for some stupid reason I ignore him and dig my nail deeper into Camden’s rock-hard chest. Since when does Eastern take orders from anyone, anyway? What the fuck is going on here? Come to think of it, the surrounding people that were once dancing close a few seconds ago have suddenly backed off, giving us all a wide berth.
“I said, don’t fucking touch her,” Camden growls, his topaz eyes flashing dangerously. Eastern’s hand slips away and I can hear him mumble an apology.
“What the hell is this? And who do you think you’re talking to like that?” I shout, not able or willing to hold back my anger. I might be able to give Eastern a piece of my mind, but this arsehole is pushing it if he thinks he can do the same.
“I’m just doing what you asked… Asia, is it?” he asks, looking at me with narrowed, calculated eyes, much like a predator would its prey.
“What are you talking about? I didn’t ask you shit,” I respond, ignoring the fact we’re now on first name terms. My finger is still pressed into his chest, and despite the tension I feel rolling off Eastern, I dig my nail in a little harder, adding another couple of fingers for good measure.
Camden cocks his brow, looking between my hand and my face. He’s as cool as a cucumber, not giving anything away whereas I’m all over the place. My head’s spinning, my heart’s racing and my rage is bubbling all because Eastern had some pretty girl fall in his lap.
“Eastern is one of my boys, one of my crew, but I’m guessing he hasn’t told you that.”
/> I feel the colour literally drain from my face at his words and accompanying smirk. I’m pretty sure most of my blood is now pooling in my feet. His boy, one of his crew? What?!
“Asia,” I hear Eastern begin, but I hold my hand up. He growls in anger at my reaction. Screw him.
“Don’t!” I snarl.
Camden lowers my hand, his touch surprisingly gentle given he’s giving off a very clear don’t mess with me vibe. But I ignore that fact and force myself to take my measure of him. He’s around my age, even though he looks at least five years older. He works out to maintain his physique, yes, but also to curb the rage I see bubbling just beneath the surface. That rage is schooled for now, and even though I don’t understand why that might be given the way I’ve acted, it is. He owns his shit, whether it’s the women he fucks-and I’m pretty sure he fucks and not makes love-or his boys. Camden is a leader. You follow him, and you obey. That much I do know. Except for me, I don’t obey anyone.
“Eastern works for me now. In actual fact, he has his first job tomorrow. If he pulls it off, then I’m open to him bringing you in,” Camden says, assessing me, waiting for my response.
Ignoring him completely, I spin on my heel to face Eastern. “I thought you were doing a run for Nash. That’s what you told me, Eastern. What else have you been lying to me about? Can I trust anything you say?” I’m referring to his confession in the garden not more than half an hour earlier and he knows it.
“Of course you can trust me. I’ve got your back, remember? I wanted to tell you before, but shit happened with the court case…” He runs his hand through his hair, and I wonder for a moment where his Crombie hat is. Not that it matters. “I brought you here tonight so you could meet everyone… Opal is part of Camden’s crew. She’s sorry if she pissed you off, but if you let me introduce you to her, she’ll tell you that herself. Jade is her twin sister, so you’ve met both now. And this, of course, is Camden.”