by Melissa Jane
“Let the night of debauchery begin.”
8
THEN
Music filters through the otherwise quiet night air, a chilly breeze tingling our skin. The glow of a monstrous bonfire can be seen well before we drive through the gate of Andy Mahone’s property. Apparently, according to Kevin, Andy’s parents own huge amounts of land, and the half a mile drive from the front gate to the bonfire is nothing in the scheme of things. They’re also never home, happy to leave their only son alone while they travel extensively for work and leisure.
He isn’t technically alone, though. Again, according to Kevin, during the days the house is full of workers, cleaning staff, and maintenance. So, by day, Andy is a rule-abiding son in the face of those who are on his parents’ payroll, but come night when they all leave, the mice come out to play. As long as he disposes of all the evidence come morning, he can get away with whatever he wants. Including tonight, where it’s expected a hundred party revelers will be attending his after-party. And unlike during the week, Andy has a full weekend to get the house back in order before staff returns to work on Monday. Which means, it’s game on.
I pull my hand free from Kevin’s whose held mine since we pulled out of the parking lot back at the stadium. It was quite the drive out to Andy’s, staying behind Jacob’s car the whole time. While Kevin was simply trying to engage in conversation, I watched the tail lights ahead, completely transfixed and wondering how the friendship between Jacob and I had taken such an abrupt U-turn, especially after he’d been so nurturing toward me when I had almost a week off school. I’d witnessed a completely different side to him which was both charming and sweet, a side which allowed me to bury the hatchet on our rocky past, and see that beneath his desire to torture me, there lies a good soul. But that all blew up in smoke tonight.
We pull alongside each other on a patch of lawn designated as parking. With Jacob parked to the right, I sit directly opposite him. Although darkness surrounds us, the glow from the dash in both cars is enough to shine light on our faces. Jacob sits staring, eyes narrowed, jaw tense. Beside him, paying no attention, is Chelsea, who uses the visor mirror to re-apply her gloss.
I return his glare. If he’s pissed at me for intruding on his space, I’m pissed at him for thinking I’m not good enough to be around ‘his people.’
“Let’s go, babe,” Kevin interrupts my thoughts with a term of endearment I didn’t think our relationship had earned at this point in time. He leans across my lap and opens the door in what he probably interprets as a chivalrous gesture. Undoing my buckle, I slip out of his Jeep at the same time Jacob climbs out his 1969 Dodge Charger. He’ll never know, but there’s been plenty of times I’ve admired how he looks while sitting in that car just like every other girl who watches him pull into the school parking lot. And now here we are, face to face, a mere few feet apart, his annoyance is more than I can tolerate.
“Jerk,” I mutter.
“Gullible.” Jacob slams his door.
“Asshole.”
“I’m not going to name call you.”
I swivel on my heel, seeing anger. “Not going to name call me?” I laugh. “You already have multiple times tonight and in front of others, so don’t get on your damn high-horse now.”
“That’s because you—”
“Come on, Jacob,” Chelsea interrupts with that irritating nag I’ve come to associate with her voice. “Stop wasting your time on her. I can think of much more interesting things we could be doing.” She smiles like a porn star, and I roll my eyes.
“Jealous?” Jacob asks for only him and me to hear. It’s a tone laden with mockery and spite, but I refuse to take the bait and give my well wishes instead.
“Happy fucking,” I reply, taking Kevin’s hand. I walk away but catch the twitching vein his neck just in time to feel a moment of joyous victory.
What a complete and utter asshole.
I can’t ever believe again that boy has a good side.
All this time he’s been playing me, and I’ve fallen right into it like bear to honey.
Stupid, stupid girl.
~
The party is in full swing by the time Kevin and I make an entrance into the beautiful home that screams luxurious. If I were Andy, I’d be extremely nervous about throwing a party full of drunk teens. I have little time to ponder how the expensive all-white furniture will survive the night when my cheeks start to burn. Stares, some curious, some mocking, by those ‘out of my league’ watch us as we walk hand in hand. It’s likely a combination they never expected to see, and it’s thrown quite a few off-kilter.
What’s a reserved art nerd doing with a high school jock renowned for his partying ways? I agree with them. It is a bizarre combination, and to be honest, can I really call it a combination since I’m not even sure what we are.
Kevin does the typical one-handed clasp, pulling his mates in for a manly hug. They exchange pleasantries, and I awkwardly wait, unsure what to say when they see me. I’ve become that big fat elephant in the room.
“You guys know Rosie, right?” Kevin asks, unperturbed.
“Know of her but never spoken,” one boy replies.
That’s all. None of them say hello or further acknowledge my presence.
Perhaps asshole-Jacob was right, after all. Perhaps I am too odd for these people.
“Are you two like a… thing now?” one of Chelsea’s cheerleading friends asks from across the island counter loaded with red cups and small clear shot glasses. She’s the smallest of the squad, but from what I’ve heard, but her bite is as big as her bark.
“Are we a thing, baby?” Kevin asks, still wearing a wide smile.
Under all their not-so-friendly scrutiny, I’m at a loss on what to say. I can’t humiliate Kevin by saying no, and I don’t want to commit to anything just to appease him either. So, I say nothing.
“We’re a work in progress, some might say,” he jokes, and in return, his friends give weak smiles. My presence makes them uncomfortable because they’ve never taken the time to talk to me in class or the corridor. Some I’ve even done group projects with, yet they see me as an intruder. All except one, who I have no idea his name, but I can certainly feel his eyes roaming the length of my body. His girlfriend, who I have never seen, smacks him on the arm and delivers an abusive response.
“Come on, let’s get a drink,” Kevin says, thankfully steering me away from his friends.
Jacob and Chelsea come into view as they chat animatedly with other students in the living room. He briefly glances over his shoulder before returning to conversation. Putting him out of mind, I concentrate on the task ahead—simply getting through the night. Kevin leads me across the manicured lawn where a group of people have gathered.
“What are they waiting for?” I ask Kevin.
“Dude,” comes sort of familiar voice from the darkness. “You made it.”
A golf buggy suddenly emerges and skids to a halt only two feet away. Andy is all smiles greeting his friend and then after seeing me, shoots Kevin an inquisitive look.
“You sly dog, bro. What have you been getting up to?”
“You know Rosie, right?”
I wish he’d stop introducing me like that. It would save me the embarrassment of everyone admitting they’ve previously and deliberately chosen not to give me the time of day.
“Of course, I do,” Andy announces, leaving me reeling over the admission.
“You do?” I ask, to be certain.
“Yeah.” He’s seemingly confused by the question. “You do wicked art. In fact, my mother bought one of your art pieces at the Clubhouse charity event last summer.”
“She did?”
What the hell is going on?
“It’s hanging in the upstairs hall if you want to check it out later.”
“I will, thanks.” I’m still miffed by the whole interaction when party-goers leave the gathering and come barreling over to the golf cart.
“Piss off, you lot,”
Andy says, jolting forward in the cart to stop others from climbing in. “I’ll get you fuckers next time.” He turns back to us. “Come on, jump in.” Then he looks past us in the direction of the house. “Hurry up, assholes. You can come, too.”
I turn to see Jacob and Chelsea jogging over.
“Chelsea, you ride in front with me so we can make Jacob jealous,” Andy says, yet while Chelsea slides excitedly next to him, Jacob remains unfazed. “Hurry up and get in,” Andy says to rest the of us.
The seating arrangement in less than desirable. I’m sandwiched between two giant footballers, one who’s reveling in the contact, the other who couldn’t express his level of disgust any more than what he’s already doing. Kevin takes my hand in his and places it on his lap. Jacob turns to see and mutters a curse.
It’s a five-minute ride from hell before we pull up next to the bonfire. Heat tingles our skin, and the flames cast us in its glow. Once Kevin slides off the seat, I follow, keen to put as much distance between Jacob and me. Kevin, not picking up on the vibes, pulls me into his strong arms and plants a kiss on my forehead. Andy zips off in the cart, and the four of us are once again left together before Chelsea breaks the silence.
“Jacob, let’s go. These two have more important things they could be doing… to each other… without us here.”
While I welcome her keenness to be away from me, her suggestion of anything lewd occurring between Kevin and myself infuriates me. “I’m not like you, Chelsea, so how about you two go find yourselves a dark corner and pretend no one knows what you’re doing.”
She steps closer into what she probably considers a threatening move. “I know you’re nothing like me and thank fuck for that. Because I don’t actually care who sees me.”
I smile. “And thank you for re-enforcing my opinion of you.”
She frowns. “What?”
I roll my eyes at her level of stupidity.
“Just leave it alone, Chelsea,” Jacob says from behind his girlfriend, his own exasperation evident.
She looks to Kevin with disdain. “Have fun with whatever…” she waves a finger in my direction, “… this is.”
“You’re a bitch, Chelsea,” is all he remarks before taking my hand and leading me around the bonfire. Stealing a glance over my shoulder, I catch Jacob doing the same. Five steps and our eyes remain locked before the flames of fire come between us.
“That girl’s going to scratch your eyes out one day,” Kevin says with a laugh.
“She can try,” I add. “I may be a nobody in terms of school culture, but I’m not a pushover.”
“She’s threatened by you.”
“That’s ludicrous.”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Kevin spins me into his arms, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him. In the orange glow, I see his eyes hooded with lust, his words carefully selected to woo me. “You’re a fucking babe if you haven’t noticed.”
I don’t know what to say because no one has ever called me that before, and I can’t help but wonder if his words are empty, spoken only to achieve his objective, or if they contain an ounce of sincerity.
“Come on, take a seat, I’ll get us some drinks.” Kevin leads me to a vacated tree log in front of the fire and disappears to find the drinks table. I watch a moment, feeling like I’ve been thrust completely out of my comfort zone. On the log to my right are two senior boys with a junior girl wedged in the middle. They each take turns whispering in her ears probably the same compliments Kevin gives me. She giggles and coos back to them believing every word. Of course, she would. She’s a junior in love with the idea that two good-looking senior boys are fawning over her.
To my left is a stoned group of four contemplating the earth’s atmosphere and existentialism—rather deep considering.
In stark comparison, behind me is a group of cheerleaders and footballers involved in a rowdy drinking game which involves the losers of each round stripping off another item of clothing. Some are obviously less skilled at the game than others with two girls and one boy almost completely naked, bare breasts and g-stringed asses acting as inspiration for the boys to win, and potentially cheat their way to victory.
My cell beeps as I watch those on the move search for friends or stumble drunkenly over logs. I smile when I see Nessie’s name on the screen.
Nessie: Tell me you’re alive and haven’t been thrown into a den of horny and hungry vampires?
Me: Horny vampires? What the hell are you reading?
Nessie: Interview with the Vampire is on telly and dad’s gone to bed.
Me: I don’t remember anyone being thrown into a den of horny vampires.
Nessie: I made up that part.
Me: Sinner! That’s worse than saying Jesus and vagina in the same sentence.
Nessie: Which you just did again. Now you’re definitely going to hell.
Me: Correction - I’m already in it. Why the hell (pun intended) did I say I’d come to this party?
Nessie: To broaden your heathen horizons…?
Me: Well, I want to unbroaden them. I even considered coming to church with you on Sunday to cleanse my soul. Then I changed my mind.
Nessie: Jesus would have been proud of you for all of a micro-second.
I snort a laugh.
Me: Things could change. Don’t give up hope for me yet. Enjoy your vampire sex.
Nessie: Enjoy your human sex.
Me: Eww!
“What’s so funny?” Kevin asks, carefully lowering himself onto the log while balancing two full red cups of beer.
“Nessie’s just checking up on me.”
“She should have come.”
“If this isn’t my scene, it’s far from hers. Besides, her dad would excommunicate her from life if she wound up somewhere like this.”
He shrugs, not understanding. “It’s just a party.”
“And he’s just a pastor, in case you’ve forgotten. He would literally order Jesus to bring forth the second coming if he saw his daughter around this.” I point at one of the near-naked girls wrestling with a boy to keep her barely-there G on.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about with the whole Jesus thing, but it doesn’t sound like fun if it will stop that…” he too points to the near-naked girl now lying on the ground catching her breath, “… from happening.”
Kevin hollers his approval at the group who respond with cheers and laughter.
I cringe. “Gross,” I mutter, watching glowing embers float through the sky.
“What’s so gross about the human body?” he mocks, nudging my arm with his.
“Absolutely nothing. It’s how boys become barbarians when they see a bit of flesh that makes me cringe.”
“So…” Kevin uses a finger to push my dress aside, exposing come cleavage. “You’re not going to show me any of this?”
Angrily, I slap his hand away causing him to spill his beer over his jeans. “Don’t do that,” I warn.
He appears affronted like a young child reprimanded when it was his sister who caused the milk to spill. “I’m not some pervert.”
“You don’t get to decide when you touch me like that. We haven’t even kissed.”
Kevin forcefully grabs my knee with his free hand and without an inch of care, roughly pulls me toward him. “Let’s change that, shall we?” He leans in quick, but I move my face faster than he anticipated, his lips missing mine in a hurtful rejection.
I wince feeling his fingers dig deep into my flesh, and I shove against his chest, this time effectively spilling my own beer on his lap. Hurt by the rebuff and with the orange glow of the fire coating his face, he morphs into an angry demon.
“Stupid, bitch!” he hurls, wiping beer from his jeans. “The fuck is wrong with you? It was just a fucking kiss.”
I look around hoping there’s witnesses in case this spirals further out of control. “I’m not what you’re looking for, Kevin,” I state as diplomatically as possible, cautious of further upsetting him. “I’m goin
g home.”
I stand to leave, but his meaty fingers circle my wrist and yank me down onto the grass. “The fuck you are,” he grunts before landing on top of me. His giant body engulfs mine, and when I kick and attempt to buck him off, Kevin barely moves, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand while the other covers my mouth. To anyone watching, it would look like the rest of the field. Two horny teenagers going at it by the fire. I don’t expect anyone to come to my aid.
Kevin reigns in my legs until I become completely immobile. His erection presses into my groin, and I feel repulsed by the sensation. My wide eyes meet his, furious and beady, mouth forming a snarl.
“You think you can just up and leave after leading me on for so long?”
I muffle a reply about how delusional he is, but it’s incomprehensible.
“Don’t you owe me a little something?” For a hint I didn’t need, he grinds against me. “You can even pretend I’m Jacob if that’s what makes you wet.” He laughs, and I see red.
Squirming enough under his hold, I manage to sink my teeth into the meaty part of his palm. Gritting his teeth against the pain, nostrils flaring, he rips at my loose hair until my scalp is ablaze with pain. Tears brim, and I fight the pain as he does, but in this case, I’m the loser. I submit, albeit reluctantly releasing his hand only to be backhanded with it. The left side of my face smashes into the log we’d been sitting on, grazing my cheek.
“I didn’t pick you for a fighter, Rosie,” he taunts. “Or maybe this is all Jacob had to do to get you interested.”
Enraged, I swung my fist, throat punching the asshole. His face contorts like he’s dry-retching but in reality, he’s gasping for air. With both hands around his throat, he can no longer restrain me, and I’m able to roll away from his large frame in the direction of the fire. Scrambling to my feet, I look down at the boy who’d almost managed to fool me.
“You’re piece of shit, Kevin.”
“And you’re a fucking whore,” he gasps.
