My drink was even stronger this time.
When my phone buzzed my skin turned cold. If this was the stalker, making his big move on Phoebe’s birthday, it would be tragic. By the end of the weekend Phoebe and Luke would be over and it would only be my dad’s residence keeping us from going to the police.
But if he ruined her birthday it would just be cruel.
When the caller ID showed ‘dad’ I breathed a sigh of relief, answering and sticking my finger in my other ear to try and hear what he was saying. The music was still blasting out at an ungodly level in this room. “Dad?”
“Where are you?”
“At Phoebe’s, it’s her birthday party.” I must have been shouting, but I didn’t want to turn around to see if people were giving me odd looks. I started out the window into the darkness of Phoebe’s extensive garden instead. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to let you know I’ve-” I couldn’t hear anything he’d just said as the bass dropped.
Groaning, I shouted “just text me,” and hung up. Then I text him ‘just text me’ in case he hadn’t heard me. I didn’t turn around when I felt someone behind me. It was bound to be Luke. Instead, I read the text message my dad had just sent.
I found somewhere new to be staying that’s safe for you to come and visit. 23 Osbourne Avenue. I hope to see you soon xxx
I hashed out that I’d go and see him tomorrow. I’d let Luke get his break-up out of the way and then I’d explain to Phoebe what had really happened. May as well make the blows fast. At least she had other friends that would help her out and make her feel better.
I was forced to turn around and face Luke, who was pouring two shots on the table. “Your dad?”
“Yeah, he’s moved somewhere new. He says I can go and see him. I’m gonna go tomorrow.” We were forced to stand close to hear each other over the music, but I kept my gaze solidly on the shot glass Luke handed to me. Being close felt so natural now, it made my heart race because I had the memories of how good being with him was.
“I’ll come with you,” Luke offered, holding up his fingers so that we could down the shot together.
We both grimaced as the harsh liquid hit our throats. “You don’t have to do that,” I denied. “If my dad says I can go visit him, then he must be staying somewhere fine.”
“No offence, but I don’t trust that. I’d rather I just came with you.”
“You can’t babysit me. I’m supposed to be staying away from you.” The music masked our conversation from anyone else, but I still sent a suspicious glance around the room. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll come with you tomorrow to make sure it’s okay and then you can go by yourself every other time. Deal?”
I hesitated, bouncing on my heels before giving in. I wanted Luke to come. I wanted him to be a permanent feature who just came with me to do stuff because we both felt like it, but I should have been pushing against any kind of contact with him. “Deal.”
“Good.”
We stood awkwardly for a second longer, before I pulled away from Luke completely and poured myself another drink.
“Do you reckon we’ll get to midnight for the champagne?” Luke inquired, taking the vodka from me and pouring himself a drink. “I think Phoebe is already out of it.”
I shrugged, “I’m not sure champagne would have been my kind of drink anyway.”
“What is your favourite kind of drink?” The music had lulled slightly. No doubt it would be blasting again in a second, but for now, I tried to think of how I was going to resist standing close to Luke to be heard again.
I couldn’t let myself give in to what I wanted.
I considered his question for a moment. “Rosé wine, I think. It’s nice and fruity. It’s not like I get to drink very often. When I’m finally eighteen it’s not likely to end well.”
Luke fired me a genuine grin that caused me cheeks to heat up. He must have drank a lot already to be this comfortable around me, but I couldn’t bring myself to question it too much. I just loved having those real smiles sent my way. Even the constant bickering had been better than the awkward silences we were going to find ourselves in after tonight. “I’m not really keen to be honest. I mean, I like getting drunk, but I just mix spirits with stuff so that it’s like I’m not really drinking alcohol. I cheat my way through it.”
We shared a laugh. And Luke retrieved the shot glasses once more. “I’m not sure I know any drinking games for two, but I’m sure we can figure something out.”
“I’m not sure-” the music kicked in halfway through my sentence and Luke smirked, gesturing to his ears and pouring the shots despite what had obviously been a protest.
He sidled back beside me so that we were far too close. People had pretty much vacated the kitchen, too, having taken drinks with them. Phoebe’s house was so massive and she had three rooms dedicated to loud music and dancefloors downstairs. There wasn’t really any need for people to be in the kitchen.
Except if you were avoiding all the action, like Luke and I had apparently decided to.
“Staring contest,” Luke decided, voice tickling my ear as he stepped around to the other side of the thin counter we were beside.
I grinned. I’d always been good at these and Luke knew it; he really must have just wanted to get blackout drunk tonight. After counting down with his fingers, Luke and I leaned over the counter to look at each other with wide eyes. Luke had no hope. My eyes weren’t even stinging yet.
Until he leant forward and placed the quickest peck on my lips. I blinked in astonishment and then outrage and then horror. “Luke.”
He shrugged and gestured to my shot. “I never said I wasn’t going to play dirty.”
There was no one in the kitchen and Luke must have known it. There wasn’t even a chance anyone could have walked in and seen it considering how fast the contact had been, but I was still mortified. “You can’t just do that.”
We’d had to stand close again just so that Luke could hear my anger over the current track. I pulled a face when I realised it was Phoebe’s favourite song – she’d always loved it and insisted on listening to it even though I despised it. “I know, but it was just so tempting. In an ideal world, I just wouldn’t have pulled back.”
My eyebrows knitted together helplessly. “Luke, you’re too drunk for this. I can’t deal with it. I can’t be near you, it’s not right. I’m supposed to be staying as far away from you as possible,” My eyes were glued to the door in case someone walked in.
Luke’s fingers brushed against my hip and I swallowed. I hadn’t expected him to be completely shameless when he was wasted. “This is shit.”
I shot him a rueful smile and removed his hand. “Yes. Now deal with it and stop doing this stuff. It’s not fair to anyone, including yourself. I’m going to dance with Phoebe and pretend I don’t hate myself now, please don’t do anything stupid.”
It was a bit of a bare-faced lie. There was no way I could bring myself to go anywhere near Phoebe right now, but I needed to send things home to him. He was being reckless, practically in self-destruct mode, and I couldn’t let that happen. He needed to tell Phoebe it was over when he was sober that would be fine for him. Luke and Phoebe weren’t meant to be together, he could get over it.
I walked back into the main room with a fake smile plastered all over my face. I didn’t speak to anyone here and I had no desire to get to know anyone.
I just wanted my bed.
Phoebe collapsed onto the sofa beside me a moment later, nuzzling her face into my shoulder and getting foundation all over my black dress. “You okay?” I checked with her. “Having a good time.”
“Such a good time,” she sighed in contentment and spilled a bit of her drink on my leg. “I wish Luke would come and dance with me though. He’s being all awkward about it.”
“Dancing really doesn’t sound like his kind of thing,” I chuckled, grateful she couldn’t observe my face. Part of me thought I should make the most of to
night, be the best friend I could be, because I wasn’t going to be able to after this weekend.
“It’s definitely your kind of thing, though,” Phoebe urged, removing her head from my shoulder and throwing me what she thought was an enticing grin. She must be nearly ready to pass out. “We always kill it at parties. You have to dance with me at mine. Have you not been drinking?” She waved a hand in front of my face as if it was some kind of test. “Really?”
I rolled my eyes, the alcohol definitely weighing on my head, just not quite as much as Phoebe just yet. “I have been drinking,” I assured her, holding up my glass and downing it for effect. “And I can definitely dance.” It hadn’t ended up being such a lie to Luke after all.
She beamed, dragging me into the swathes of people with her and swaying her hips to the pounding music. Phoebe was a great dancer – her ballet skills transferred well into grinding on people on the dance floor too, it seemed. I tried to keep up, rolling my body in time and ending up enjoying myself more than I liked to admit. I had always enjoyed dancing and Phoebe led the way perfectly so that I could just copy her moves and feel good about myself.
I left the dance floor in with a grin on my face and tears in my eyes. My body couldn’t allow complete happiness tonight. This was one of the reasons Phoebe was my best friend. We had fun together. She was my only real friend, but it didn’t matter because even if we weren’t very similar, we complimented each other perfectly. We just enjoyed ourselves.
I trudged up the stairs with a heavy heart and went to use the toilet. Upstairs was off limits to the general partygoer, but I knew Phoebe wouldn’t object. The downstairs toilet would have been packed, anyway. No doubt it had reached the stage in the evening when people started throwing up.
When I left the bathroom, having made sure no tears fell, I was met by a solid wall of chest. I opened my mouth to ask Luke what he thought he was doing, but his lips descending on mine prevented any words. He guided me inside the bathroom, shutting the door again before I had time to process anything other than desire.
Our mouths were hot and insistent, moulding together like it was already natural for us to be intimate and our hands followed suit, roaming each other’s bodies as much as was possible through the layers of clothes. Luke’s fingers danced up my exposed thigh and I swallowed, trying to break through my enamoured, drunk haze to remember that I was being a bitch.
I managed to make the hands I had laced through Luke’s hair pull him away and I turned away, crossing my arms across my stomach whilst I tried to recover. “I told you to stop.”
“Carmen-”
“I can’t do this.”
“I want to do this,” Luke took a step closer to me and placed one hand on my shoulder. “I just like you Carmen. I don’t want to have to stay away from you. I already know you’re planning on telling Phoebe what’s happened, I can see it in your face whenever you look at her. It wouldn’t be like you to stay friends with her, anyway. Why can’t we be together after that? If we’re going to be together, what difference does it make if I kiss you now when you look so beautiful?”
I swallowed back my immediate responses and tried to think what the right thing to say was. “You’re drunk,” I settled on eventually, shoulders slumping. What he was saying was ridiculous, but not really untrue. If Phoebe hated both of us, why not give a relationship a shot?
“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve to get a shot to try and be happy with you,” I let myself turn around and observe his face. “I’ve been the worst kind of person.”
Luke didn’t respond in words, but leant forwards and pressed a peck to my forehead. He was buying time to think of something to say himself. “You deserve happiness.”
“And you think you’d make me happy?”
Luke pulled a face and I cracked, laughter spreading across my face. “I’m sorry, it was just so tempting. Old habits die hard.” I clutched at my stomach and tried to retain the hope that was filling me. If Luke really wanted to give this a shot, then of course I was going to accept, even if I thought I didn’t deserve it. “Not tonight, though. I can’t, not in Phoebe’s house.” My smile fell. “I meant that, before, by the way. I don’t think I deserve to be happy with you. Our relationship would probably be doomed from the start.”
Luke started to lean forwards before remembering what I’d said. “Well, you’re going to tell Phoebe the truth anyway, I think we should try and make this work,” he swallowed and looked almost embarrassed as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I really like you, as much as I hate to admit it.”
“I really like you too,” I beamed back, breaking my own rule and leaning up to lock lips with him. It was impossible to feel bad when Luke and I were like this, bodies fitting perfectly together as we embraced intimately. The reality always came crashing back down eventually, but for now, I was just content.
I wanted to be content all the time and maybe, just maybe, Luke could really offer that.
Maybe Luke and I, together, for real, could make that happen.
Pulling back with the biggest grin I’d had in a long time, I squeezed Luke’s hand. “Come on, we need to get back downstairs, we’re not even supposed to be here in the first place. Thank you, for following me.”
“I’m definitely glad I did,” Luke teased, letting me open the bathroom door and both of us slipping out.
The night might not have been perfect, but the fact I was coming out of it with even the smallest of smiles on my face was a miracle.
Being optimistic wasn’t normally in my nature, but every time I met eyes with Luke across the room for the rest of the night, I found myself having the urge to grin uncontrollably. All those years spent crushing on him and he’d been the one who ended up making all the moves.
By next weekend, we could be lying on a bed together chatting and watching TV and it would probably seem completely normal.
Chapter Twelve
It was with ear-splitting headaches that we all sat around the kitchen table the next morning. Luke and I kept sending each other guilty, anxious glances that Phoebe was oblivious to.
This was the day where things went horribly wrong for everyone.
And I was ashamed to say that I was almost excited. Phoebe had been my best friend for nearly ten years, but the thought of finally getting to be with Luke had me giddy in a way I couldn’t remember being for years. It was like the first New Years’ Eve I’d been allowed to stay up until midnight all over again.
No doubt it was going to end almost as soon as it had begun, something was bound to go wrong in our relationship, but right now I was positively buzzing with excitement. None of the issues about school rumours or being judged could even bring me down. It was only when I remembered how crushed my ex best friend was going to be that the guilt flooded me, both for what I’d done and for letting my excitement overpower it in the first place.
“What time are you going to see your dad?” Phoebe inquired. I had no member of telling her about that, but my memory was hazy about everything that had happened towards the end of the night.
“Erm,” I checked my phone and saw that I had a message from him. “He says, ew, any time before twelve is fine. I guess we’d better hurry up.”
“We? We’re coming?”
“Oh,” I realised my mistake. “Luke was going to come with me. Last time I went to see him he was staying at a really dodgy place and Luke came and so he’s horrified I’m going to get kidnapped if I go see him by myself again.” She’d know the truth soon enough, anyway. Coming up with a good excuse was pointless.
Phoebe blinked. “Huh, so you really did become friends?”
“We learnt to tolerate,” Luke supplied, grimace covering his face. We were all relatively grumpy this morning.
“Well, I’ll come too, I haven’t seen your dad in ages. Going out always makes me feel better after drinking, anyway.”
Luke and I exchanged a glance, but there wasn’t any reason I could think of to deny it. “Sure, i
f you want. It probably won’t be very interesting, though. Last time it was just my dad complaining about not having a job.”
“I’m sure my presence will inspire better conversation,” Phoebe chuckled, pouring herself a cup of tea and making a noise. “I don’t think I ever want to eat again.”
I, on the other hand, was in the process of scoffing down my fourth piece of toast. “That’s a really shitty way to get a hangover,” I told her for the umpteenth time. We had this conversation after every night out. “But I’m grateful I get to eat what would have been your breakfast.”
My mind was at war, deciding on happy or sad, but it couldn’t find a place to settle. Instead, I got violent mood swings within the space of a few minutes.
I was going to miss Phoebe.
Off Limits Page 11