I gape at him, “You know about that.”
“Yup,” he smirks. I feel myself blush and I hide my face in my hands before he can see. “Hey!” he laughs, pulling them away. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s cute. And I know you don’t call me that anyway.”
“Oh, right,” I sigh in relief. His eyes melt again and he lifts a hand, moving it towards my face. I suck in a breath as his warm fingers stroke my cheek, brushing a lock of hair out of my face and sending tingles across my skin. “W-What are you doing?”
He smiles and pulls his hand back. “There was a lock of hair in your face. Sorry ‘bout that.” I nod and smile thinly back at him, my cheeks still flushed. I duck my head, trying to hide behind my hair out of habit, but he gently takes my chin and lifts it up.
“Anyway, I should probably be going now. I have History, and I’m already failing. Are you going to be okay going to class?”
“Yeah, sure,” I clear my throat and wince, trying again. “I’ll be fine. Thanks again for… helping me.”
“No problem, Darcy.” He grins. “See you later.”
I watch him walk away with his head looking down, his tawny hair curling over the collar of his white shirt, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. Once he’s gone, I slide my sleeves over my hands, hide my face behind my hair again, and don’t look up until I find my next class.
He said he’d see me later, but I know for a fact he didn’t mean it. People like him never mean the things they say.
Three
It’s later that night, when the phone starts ringing. Dad isn’t home yet – he’s always working late nowadays, mostly so he doesn’t have to see me, and also because we need the money. Back at home, I used to babysit for our neighbours and family friends. I stopped that not long after mum died, and I’d started working at the local library, where I didn’t have to talk to people that much.
Libraries were where I felt closest to mum. She was a writer, with a few bestsellers too. She read to me every night, and a lot during the day, because I could never get enough of the way she somehow made the books come alive. She helped out at the libraries a lot in her spare time, often taking me there and letting me pick out books. We’d sit on the sofas together, curled up into foetal positions – me reading my books and her reading hers.
After mum left, the words in my books became less lively and fun and more of a way to escape, a way to hide away from the world. I would see the books she used to read and cry, knowing that she would never read them again. I had tried reading her books sometimes, but my eyes blurred as I read them that I realised I would never be able to read a love story without bursting into tears. So instead, I only read horror and adventure, genres as far from romance as possible. It’s safer that way.
I stopped writing too. That made a lot of people disappointed, because everyone said I had a gift, much like my mother did. But ours were so much different. Mum was a novel writer, and author. I’m more of a poet and lyric writer. But that all stopped the moment I realised she would never write again. I don’t write for fun anymore – I can’t betray her like that.
I put down the latest book I’ve been reading and climb off my bed, pulling my grey hoodie over my pink boxer shorts a little more before heading downstairs to answer the phone. I pick it up and press it to my ear hesitantly.
“Hello?”
“Darcy, is that you?” Someone asks. They don’t bother waiting for an answer before carrying on. “Hey! Listen I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party tomorrow night? My brother’s back from college and he’s inviting all his old high school buddies and his new college ones too. It’s gonna be a blast!”
I wrinkle my nose, “Remy, I don’t know…”
“Aw, come on, Darcy! You can’t miss another party! Do you want to grow old and die with regrets? Live a little, babe!” She says loudly. I can practically see her now, jumping up and down with excitement.
“Remy, how did you even get my number?” I ask her.
“Joey knows someone who knows someone who works with your dad, duh.” Oh, right, of course. “So, are you coming or what?”
“I-I’ll see, okay?”
“YES!” She screams down the phone. I imagine her doing a little fist punch and grin, knowing that’s probably about right for Remy. “I can’t wait! You are not going to regret this, Darcy Low!”
I laugh a little at her excitement, hating the fact that I’ll only end up saying no in the end. “I’m not making any promises, Remy.”
“Not yet,” she giggles. “Oh, I gotta go! My mums just got back from work and I’m not supposed to be on the phone. Apparently my last phone bill cost a bomb. Well, byeee!”
She hangs up before I can say anything else and I’m left holding the phone with a dazed look on my face, wonder what the hell I’ve just gotten myself into.
“It’s just a party, don’t worry about it,” Dana says casually, ever the voice of reason. She grabs her apple and bites into it, shrugging. “And besides, you can always sleep over at mine that night.”
“But I don’t think I can go,” I protest.
Dana narrows her eyes and puts her apple down, leaning towards me. “Darcy, I don’t really care if you want to go to this party or not. You need to go. I’m your friend and I’m looking you for you here, but how are we supposed to help you if you don’t let us? You don’t do anything besides go to school, go home and sleep, and it’s not healthy. You need to do something, before it’s too late and you end up middle age and wonder What if? All the damn time!”
Joey and Remy walk over with their trays and place them on the table, looking from me to Dana, then back again.
“Um, what’s going on?” Remy asks warily.
“Dana, hun, are you giving Darcy here one of your speeches about life? You know, it’s rude to be all deep and emotional when people are trying to eat.” Joey says, digging into his burger and getting his phone out with the other hand.
Dana rolls her eyes and flips him off, “whatever, Gossip Girl. I was just trying to convince Miss Recluse here to go to the party. She’s backing out on us, Remy.”
“What?” Remy looks at me and pouts, “But you promised! Pleeeeease, Darcy, it won’t be the same without you. I thought we were friends!”
My eyes widen and I feel someone nudge me. I turn to look at Dana, who smiles innocently at me. “Now, Darcy, are you really going to break your friends’ heart? Look at her – she’s close to tears!”
As if on cue, a tear rolls down Remy’s face and she begins to sniffle, her hands on her heart dramatically. Guilt washes over me and I wince, knowing for a fact that I’m going to regret this…
“Okay, fine, I’ll go, I’ll go! But just this once,” I rush. Dana whoops and fist pumps the air. Joey looks up at me and shakes his head slowly, a knowing smirk on his face. Remy’s face changes from sad to excited in the blink of an eye, the tears in her eyes miraculously vanishing.
“Yeeee-es! All these years of drama have finally paid off!” she cheers, jumping from her chair and doing a funny little happy dance that draws attention from a few other tables – okay, a lot of other tables.
“What?” I gape at her – did she just trick me?
“Man, Darcy, I thought you were tougher than that!” Joey says, pretending to be disappointed in me, but failing with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t you know Remy here has been able to get whatever she wants with those crocodile tears of hers?”
Next to me, Dana is laughing her head off, clapping me on the shoulder. “Oh, Darcy, you still have a lot to learn. It’s going to be a riot educating you in the ways of our friendship. And we can start at the party tonight!”
“TGIF!” Remy declares, throwing her fists in the air dramatically before flopping back into her seat and carrying on with her food like nothing happened, a big grin on her face. “Ooh, we can get changed at my house, girlies. We’re staying at yours, right Dana?”
Dana nods, grinning, “Yup. Joey’s making us b
reakfast, too. He’s the woman in our friendship, he belongs in the kitchen.”
Joey looks up and growls at us. “Girls, girls, I am most positively the manliest man you’ve ever met. Don’t disrespect my manliness, and I might just let you out of the kitchen every now and then,” he winks.
Remy makes a little squeak/gasp and puts a hand to her chest, “why, Joey, your sexist comments are really quite hurtful!” she throws a chip and him and laughs when it hits him on the nose, making it shiny with grease.
I laugh around my sandwich, watching as they start a mini food fight between each other. “Have you ever thought those two would make a really good couple?” I ask Dana with a smirk.
She rolls her eyes and smirks, “all the damn time. But they’re just too stubborn to notice it.”
“Do you have anyone special?” I ask her curiously.
Something flashes in her eyes and she shakes her head slowly. “Not… not really.”
“She had a boyfriend, but she broke up with him,” Remy says, wiping food off her cheek. She looks at Dana and shrugs, “what? It’s not like it’s a secret.”
I look at Dana and she sighs, a pained expression on her face. “I believe in old fashioned relationships,” she admits, with a bashful smile. “With love letters, poetry, long walks together – that sort of stuff. He was just a player looking to get laid, and when he realised he wasn’t going to get any anytime soon, he ditched me.”
“Did you love him?”
She makes a face and shakes her head quickly. “Nah, love isn’t worth the effort. Screw love.”
Remy narrows her eyes and slams her fists on the table, making me jump. “Screw love? No, Dana, screw the person who made you think like that. True love is worth it, so don’t you ever give up on that hope.”
“Yeah,” Joey joins in, grinning at us. “You keep on believing, girl. One day, your Mr Darcy will come. And when he does, you’ll get so many love letters you’d think Shakespeare threw up in your room.”
Dana wrinkles her nose, “nice visual.”
“No matter how much he hurt you, you know you can always count on your friends,” I offer, taking her hand and squeezing it.
She smiles at me and puts her other hand over it, patting it before pulling away, “I guess he just made me feel like he really liked me, but then he left like I never really mattered. It was a hell of a blow to my ego,” she smirks, turning it into a joke. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and frowns, looking at the screen. “Guys, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you both tonight, okay?” she blows kisses at us before walking away, tapping on her phone.
“Poor girl,” Remy says sadly as we watch her walk off. “She was brought up by her grandma to live in the old days where romance and chivalry weren’t dead. School was one hell of a shock to her system. But she still managed to pull through.”
“Says a lot about a person, doesn’t it,” Joey murmurs, tapping on his phone. Remy looks at him and rolls her eyes, turning back to me and grinning.
“So, anyway, tonight is going to be so awesome!” She squeals. Thankfully, the bell goes before she can do another happy dance.
Four
I’m packing an overnight bag for Dana’s when the front door opens. Footsteps head towards the kitchen and the fridge is opened as dad heads straight towards the never-ending supply beer he’s stored in the back. This is unusual, however; dad’s never home this early.
After I’ve finished packing my bag, I go to pick out clothes that seem suitable for a party. I stare at my wardrobe for ages, trying to decide which jumper is the partiest of them all. The answer; none of them. I finally find a peachy coloured top with a pearly effect and low neckline that seems to be reasonable for a party, and I team it with dark blue skinnies and pink converse.
Finally happy with the outfit, I brush out my hair so it falls in long black waves down my back and put on my dark brown leather jacket. I grin a little at my reflection, this is as good as it gets. I walk downstairs with my back in my arms, walking into the livingroom where dad is sprawled on the old couch, already drinking himself into oblivion.
“Dad, I’m going to a friend’s house for the night, is that okay?” I ask him, waiting for an answer. He grunts in reply, turning up the volume on the TV. “Okay, then,” I hesitate, feeling more than a little put out that he doesn’t seem to care. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”
“Lock the door on your way out,” he grumbles, swigging back more beer from the bottle, not even looking at me. It’s like he doesn’t want to know that I’m here.
I don’t say anything else, my earlier good mood fading a little, leaving me feeling deflated. My shoulders slump as I walk out the front door and I make sure to lock it behind me. Maybe if dad paid attention to me, I would be able to get through this easier – if I just had someone I could talk to.
Dana had arranged for me to meet her at the bottom of the street, claiming that she lived really close by and it’s on her way. By the time I walk over there, she’s waiting in the car, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as she waits. I hop in the passenger’s side and grin at her as I do my seatbelt.
“Sorry I’m late. Were you waiting for long?”
“Nah,” she waves her hand dismissively, grinning back at me. “Are you all belted up and ready? Because we have a party to go to!”
I grin at her as she waves her free hand in the air, bouncing up and down in her seat. She looks like a poster child for bad-girl Goth, with a black tank top, showing her tattoo sleeves, black shorts, red patterned tights and black doc martins, her platinum hair piled on top of her head and her eyes painted black. I almost can’t see her fingers from all the rings she’s wearing.
Despite the grin on my face, I’m nervous. This is my first high school party since… forever, and I don’t know what to expect. Remy’s brother was in college, so this won’t exactly be a high school party, despite the fact that quite a few people from out school are invited. What if I make a fool of myself?
By the time Dana pulls up outside a house, I’m a bag of nerves. There are already a few cars parked outside the mini-mansion and teenagers are loitering in the yard, stumbling a bit in their drunken haze. I could hear the loud laughter from here. Dana turned to look at me and her brow furrowed a little.
“You okay?” she asked me, sensing my nervousness.
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat and turning to grin back at her. “Yeah, sure. Let’s just get in there!”
Okay, so maybe that was a little too over-eager, but hey, I was scared. I mean, anything can happen at these kind of parties. I’m just going to have to stay by Dana’s side until I find someone else.
As soon as we walk into the loud, crazy house, that plan is thrown right out of the window – as well as the TV – when I am pushed out of Dana’s eyesight by a drunken girl who stumbles into me. Note to self – high heels and alcohol never work.
“Hey, who ish you?” she slurs, giggling as she is pulled back by her friend. The girl, who looks pretty miffed to be her bodyguard, shrugs at me apologetically.
“Sorry about her, she really can’t handle her drink.”
“No problem,” I smile shyly at her before turning away. That girl had been wearing jeans and a camisole, but the way she held herself made it obvious she was older than me, and I admit that I was a little disheartened by that. Why can’t I be confident, too?
As I’m hauling my way past throngs of drunken idiots – a few of whom try to grope me – I realise that I really shouldn’t have come here. I mean, what was I thinking??? I’m not a sociable person, let alone a party person! I should be at home, writing or reading a book, not trying to polite to intoxicated, hormonal idiots.
My god, where is Dana or Remy when you need them? I cry internally. Hell, even Joey could save me, if he bothered to look up from that phone of his. Where are you guys?
I feel someone jostle me from behind and I topple on my flat shoes, falling into a guy with a beer in his hands. I gasp as th
e warm, sticky liquid pools across my top and wet my skin. My nose wrinkles at the bitter smell and I know I’m blushing like a freaking tomato right now.
The guy starts to laugh, and I feel tears burning my eyes. I turn around and run to the nearest door, pushing people out of my way and not caring if I hurt someone, so long as nobody sees me.
Outside, its pitch black – well, more like a very dark shade of navy, with small, barely-there speckles of yellow. The cold air instantly calms me and I sigh, relaxing against the back wall of the house. I’d somehow found my way to the back yard, and not many of the party-people were back here, so that was lucky, I guess. If I believed in luck.
I close my eyes and let the coolness brush against my face, loving the familiarity of it in a world I’m so unused to. I’m not cut out for this, not like every other teenager in the world. I must have skipped the party chapter in the book of life.
The door next to me opens but I ignore it, deciding that if the person is drunk then they won’t see me. I breathe in through my nose and ignore the footsteps that are coming my way. A small frown forms on my head – if it was someone I know, they’d have spoken by now. Remy, Dana and even Joey aren’t the quietest of people. They love an entrance.
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” the familiar voice is soft yet rough at the same time, husky in the cool night and a lot more sober than I expected.
“T-Tyler? What are you doing here?” I stutter, staring at the warm golden eyes and thick hazel locks. Why does he have this weird effect on me? Is my heart supposed to bang against my chest every time I look into his eyes? Is it a sign of warning or something?
He smirks at me gently, leaning against the wall besides me. “This isn’t really my scene; I’m more of the chauffer. What about you?”
“I hate parties,” I grimace, turning my face from him when he starts to chuckle. I try to ignore the shivers that sound gives me as I stare stubbornly at a patch of grass. Stupid girl, why do you have to be so girly? I scold myself.
Then Came You Page 2
