Misreckon

Chapter 9 - Truth Comes Out

"Hey." A drunken boy slurred, attempting to put on a sexy smile but failing miserably. His salivated lips appeared lopsided. His hair sweaty. His pupils enlarged. All attributes of a typical male party animal that interested me no bit. My palms were rested on the alcohol table as I searched for a clean cup, he had come over and diverted my attention which I saw as a sign. I have had two drinks already in the hour I was here, I knew it would hit me soon. Being a lightweight had its various advantages. 

"Hi !" I greeted cheerily, I wasn't happy to see him but I wanted to get him to leave quicker as I didn't enjoy his hovering beside me. He appeared shocked by my upbeat response until his face then transformed back into his previous expression, where he attempted to look attractive. He wiggled his brows and looked down at the floor, his eyes told me to do the same. I kept looking at him until he met my eyes again and looked down again, ushering me to copy. Strange, his actions caused me to expect the worst. I feared that if I looked down I would see a particular body part. 

Sorely mistaken, I saw a fist. Now that I was looking, he opened it like a blooming rose to reveal a small tablet. I mentally groaned. 

"I'm not hungry, thanks though." I explained cheerily, patting his arm and walking away from the deluded man. Alcohol was the only substance I would have that I wasn't allowed to, the rest I wasn't attracted to and I declined. 

It was how I rebelled against my parents. 

Usually, teenagers would rebel by doing the opposite and being gluttonous when it came to s*x, drugs and misbehaving. I did neither, well that is unless you class being told to shut up by the teacher from time to time, as misbehaving. Upon finding out my father affiliation with such substances I swore to never try them, I wanted to ensure that I wasn't tainted anymore than his career had already led me to be. I also wanted to be better than them. Lastly, I also prided myself in being a teenager that hadn't gotten experienced in those areas. If only that was my key driver to this choice. 

"This is the best moment of my life." A drunken, dancing girl screeched above the trap music that filled the large house. Her comment, at first, made me want to feel pity for her: being drunk on cheap alcohol, dancing with friends that paid more attention to their guys, and small-minded men attempting to grind upon her surely couldn't be the best moment of her life. Then the pity fell and I smiled, I only walked near her momentarily but I thought of her declaration as I swerved past the sea of sweaty bodies and I reminded myself to enjoy the little things. I was lucky enough to have the high school experience where I was invited to parties, where I didn't face the wrath of rude popular girls or fell victim to bullying or rumours. I was a floater, accepted by all. Many didn't have such privileges. 

Inhaling the less stuffy, beer-filled air I had finally escaped from the dancing crowd and onto the stairs. There were various couples clustered around the quieter areas of the hous: arguing, kissing, fondling. There were also smaller groups of people engaging in their own fun, for example, on the outskirts of the crowd were a couple guys gathered around a man handing out condoms. The sight was quite humorous as half of them didn't appear to know how to hold one, never mind use one. 

I shouldn't be that harsh, I definitely wasn't one who had the right to talk about such topics. I had never had a boyfriend, been kissed or any of the other activities. I was the epitome of a saint. 

Cautiously, I crept up the stairs and stared down at my black heels with each step. I could definitely feel the alcohol affecting my ability to make swift and calculated movements. 

"Hey! I was just about to come find you !" I heard Anaya announce before I looked up to see her. Gripping onto the railings, I trusted myself to look up at her: she was stood at the top of the stairs with Jace's hand gripped at the side of her waist and rubbing the material of her red, lacy top. She had decided to wear a revealing bodysuit with a black leather skirt after hours of us examining her wardrobe to find the best 'Make Jace Jealous' outfit. I, on the other hand, decided to wear a nude, long sleeved off the shoulder top with heavily ripped black jeans and my unstable heels of course. 

I grinned at the pair and returned a small smirk at Anaya. She knew exactly what it meant - she was excused for leaving me to dance alone. 

"It's okay, I need to make some calls in the bathroom anyway." I came up with the excuse to make it seem believable. 

"Are you sure ?" She played along, for Jace's sake. 

I nodded, making my way up as the pair went down. 

She was in an on and off relationship with him. I personally found Jace lacking in the personality department yet Anaya was smitten. She deserved better but she didn't want better, she wanted him. I would cradle her sobbing head as she would explain his acts or lack thereof that upset her, continuously supporting her no matter how many times he broke her down. She knew he was bad for her, she wasn't dumb. Being angry at her would do no good, she needed me and not someone to shout at her with the reality she already knew. 

Walking past various doors in Niall's large house, I found myself looking at a group of girls laid in the bathtub whilst one sits, covering herself, urinating in the toilet that once held my head up the night I realised how much I shouldn't drink. Niall was the culprit for that situation, well, sort of. I was very much interested in him and I had this master plan that we would get drunk together, engage in a heart to heart and kiss. As though that plan would be the start to our relationship that I wished for. I was sorely mistaken, he didn't drink and did drugs instead whilst girls threw themselves at him, we barely even spoke that night and now I see it as a blessing in disguise. He repulsed me now because of his newfound self. 

An alarming sound began to go off. My phone buzzed in my pockets, picking it up I saw that it was Ivan calling me.

I shook my head before answering, I had a feeling he was very drunk and needed my help. 

"Hey, are you okay ?" I asked, pressing my palm over my left ear to hear him better. 

"Yeah. No. But yes and no. Come down to the living room, the smaller one and I have a surprise." He slurred. His idea of a surprise worried me. 

Cora made her way to the small living room successfully, though she was stopped many times by drunken friends hugging her and projecting their happy feelings towards her. Cora giggled at each as she too was beginning to feel her body take over into the adjective: drunk. Reaching the archway to the room, she saw Wren talking to Ivan who had his head tilted back on the sofa. Coming closer to the boys, Ivan noticed Cora and his head shot up and he flashed her a huge smile. But after doing so, he appeared dizzy and laid his head back to rest. Cora sat beside him on the comfy, white leather sofa. On her left was Ivan and on his left was Wren. 

"What happened to him ?" I asked Wren, looking at Ivan's eyes trailing around the room.

"I'm a tad bit drunk Cora." Ivan chuckled to himself. 

I turned to Wren who shrugged his shoulders. 

"You can go now Wren, Cora's here. Bye-bye my guy." He waved, moving his friend.

Wren felt slightly hurt, I could see it in his eyes. He was sensitive and denied it, but what he never realised was that his feelings were given away by his instinctual expressions. 

"Go have fun, i'll take care of him." I waved him off with a smile. 

"Call me if he becomes uncontrollable, okay ?" Wren offered to which I nodded. I watched as he walked out into the party and then looked straight at Ivan. He was a rude, upfront drunk which in other words meant that his personality was just accentuated. I detested when he would drink, but there was no stopping Ivan. 

"Hello." He greeted me, barely lifting his head up as it fell straight back down. 

"How much did you drink ?" I pondered. He began blinking sporadically which caused anxiety to creep into my mind. 

"Ivan ?" I cupped his face with my hands, setting his head up straight and he smiled. 

"It's like Morse Code." He whispered and blinked the same amount of times again but slower. Eight. This confirmed that he had eight drinks. I placed his head back down onto the sofa so he could rest it. 

"Eight ?" I asked with a furrowed brow. 

"Something else too -" He winked rather than blinked. I watched him, baffled as to why he couldn't just talk. 

"Ivan I don't know what that is." I stated, hoping he would explain. 

"White." He groaned at me. White could mean many things, the sofa was white, the walls and ceiling were white. But he said he had something else, something white and that's when I feared his answer. Some sort of d**g. 

"Drugs ?" I asked emotionlessly. He smiled and shut his eyes. 

"Ivan you said you'd stop, you know what it does to you and you'll scare everyone like you did last year. Why did you do it again ?" I ranted, but towards the end my voice became sympathetic and quieter. All he ever wanted was to fit in, especially in the rugby team. When they drank, he drank. When they partied, he partied. So it was fair to say that when they did certain substances he did too. But he became uncontrollable, each weekend I would see on social media that Ivan was worse off than the rest. Wren admitted to joining in from time to time but he had more control, whereas Ivan didn't. One Sunday last year, his parents, Wren, Anaya or I hadn't heard from him for three days and so we called each rugby player until we found out he had been spewing up and sleeping at one of their houses. He was too ashamed to call the ambulance and prevented his friends from doing so. 

"My Dad's. They hate each other and they hate me. So f**k it!" He chuckled menacingly.

"They don't hate you, and why would they hate each other?" I continued questioning him, unconsciously my hand that was near his began to encase our fingers together. He hated all things lovey and gooey but I think he just hated to admit that it was what he yearned for. 

"A police officer and lawyer pay for a baby. That baby becomes a shitty rugby player with no future. Stress from work and stress from their shitty child. One day the lawyer brings home some divorce papers. Hell, breaks, loose." He explains in a story-like manner. I squeeze his hand for reassurance but he flinches. 

"Their divorce isn't because of you. It's for you, they know you don't deserve to have to hear them argue or watch their marriage crumble each day. And do you know how happy they are just because you're alive, finding your surrogate mother was their biggest dream and i'm sure they couldn't care less if you were a doctor, fast food employee or g**g member. They love you because they have you." I sighed, hoping to prevent him from spiralling especially on the drugs. 

"You don't need to lie to make me feel better. Ive already accepted my reality and I can't afford to have your hopeful outlook on life." He sighed. 

"Your life is perfect and put together and mines just this big pile of s**t. You just wouldn't get it." He ranted. I was left speechless and just stared at the door, away from him as I comprehend what he had said. If only he knew. 

Suddenly, he squeezed my hand. 

"You deserve it though. You're nice and you work hard." He tried saving himself from his previous comment but his compliment clearly caused pain to voice. 

I squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes, he perched his head up and smiled. 

"You deserve to be happy too Ivan." I stated with sympathy. It felt wrong helping others when they couldn't help me, but that was my choice. I did this. It's my fault.