I feel my heart hammer against my chest, not only because of Charlie's almost desperate apology but also because Alexis is approaching us. Despite the harsh look on her face, her beauty is astounding. The girl is dressed like a barbie-the hot pink latex halter dress leaving nothing to the imagination and making me feel like a child in my flared cookie dress. My hands come up to adjust my dress but deep down I know there's no comparing us. She's a jaw-dropping beauty who has an ambience of perfection about her. She knows she's gorgeous and she carries herself as such.
I can't help but wonder if people buy confidence from somewhere because I'd sure damn love to purchase some.
Alexis marches towards Charlie with purpose. I realise it before she shoves herself into him.
She's going to kiss him.
What I don't expect is Charlie kissing her back. Like he was kissing me.
If I wasn't feeling a massive sting in my chest as I watch everything I'm insecure about latch her lips onto Charlie's contemptuously-like take that Lorraine, in your face, I would have laughed.
Because what the hell? They're making out in front of my face. The realisation causes me to flinch hard.
My throat clogs up and I have to remind myself to blink. I shouldn't risk ruining my makeup over something so trivial. I almost scoff at my denial.
Upsetting? Yes. Trivial? No.
I stand there awkwardly, wishing the floor could open up and swallow me whole. I'd give anything to not be in this situation. But the universe has had it in for me from the start of this trip and this situation is exactly where I'm in.
The call of my name forces me to tear my gaze away from the duo in front of me to the voice coming from the entrance of Sawyer's house. Elle is standing there in her blue power puff girl costume, the outraged look on her face making her look as fierce as Bubbles when she's fighting monsters.
Her presence confuses me but a huge part of me is relieved by her sudden appearance.
A tiny part of me wants to wait for an explanation. But that tiny part is also stupid. The last thing I want to look like right now is stupid.
Letting out a shaky breath, I walk towards my friend using all willpower to stay focused on my destination. Elle rolls her eyes and shakes her head as I reach her.
"Come on." She urges me into the house hurriedly. It's almost as if she wants to get me out of there as quickly as possible. "That sneaky little weasel." She mumbles as soon as we're inside Sawyer's luxurious mansion. My eyes wander around the place-the Halloween decorations sucked more than my life at the present and that was a source of consolation-before resting on Elle's face in confusion.
What is she so upset about?
"I'm so sorry Lorraine, it's my fault. I pissed her off."
"What are you talking about?"
"Lexi." She sighs tiredly. Her hands go up to play with her double ponytail, a habit that occurs when she's nervous about something. I remember how on edge she was when she woke up earlier. She told us she's okay but now I'm not so sure.
"Who?" I ask, confused.
"Alexis." She replies, her face contorting into anger once more. The mention of the name brings a feeling to my chest that I don't want to harbour. I have to force the picture of her kissing Charlie out of my head and focus on my friend-and what she called her. Elle watches me expectantly and I can tell that I'm missing something. It takes a full minute of me staring at the blue eyeshadow around Elle's eyes for my brain to put it together.
The blonde hair. The blue eyes. The similar upturned nose. The tiny similarities are there but would be missed if you don't have the last piece of information.
"No," I gasp in shock which causes Elle to nod her head. "Really? That's-Alexis is your witchster?" She bobs her head and I blink "wow."
"You sound pleased."
"Because I am." I regret my reply immediately. Family is a sensitive topic for Elle and we usually refrain from talking about it. She's not a big fan of them and the only reason she's sticking around is to get the fortune promised to her by her grandparents.
Although Elle mentioned having two sisters-one married with two kids and the other here at UCLA -she was quick to explain that they don't get along. She doesn't speak about them-except for times when she's ranting about them and calling them names. Hence the name witchster-a witch in form of a sister. It sounds like something you'd call a character from a crappy fantasy movie but is creative for a nineteen-year-old.
"She's really pretty," I admit. So pretty a guy like Charlie would take her back after cheating on him. So pretty Charlie's making out with her just outside this door. My eyes flit to the door and I realise how much I would hate if they walked in and met me by the door "can we-?"
"Yeah, come on."
Elle spends the next thirty seconds explaining a recent confrontation between her and Alexis as she steered me through the slightly crowded corridor into the dimly lit living room. The music is louder in here, a sea of colourful costumes standing around and chatting, sitting on the leather chairs and hogging the beer pong table. There's a loud cheerful cry and Elle rolls her eyes as we watch Sawyer and Ryan hand-five.
"Jesus. You'd think they won something other than cheap beer." Elle turns to me "Alexis saw the video. Obvi. She thinks she can get information from me because we're friends."
I nod in understanding "What did you tell her?"
"What? I didn't tell her anything." Elle flushes red like she's hiding something. I scrutinise her and she cracks "I told her Charlie's into you and that she needs to back off."
"You what? Are you crazy?" I whisper yell "Charlie is not into me."
If he was, he wouldn't ask to be friends and he certainly wouldn't be sticking his tongue down Alexis' throat.
"That's subjective." she retorts and I raise my eyes "Look, it doesn't matter. Alexis doesn't know that. I knew how much it would hurt her to even think that someone's world doesn't revolve around her anymore so I-"
"Used my situation as an excuse to get back at your sister." The meaning behind my words sink in as I complete for her, feeling offended.
"No. I-" Elle fumbles up her words shocked by the tone of my voice "I thought you'd be happy about it. She told me about your little encounter this afternoon which by the way, you said nothing about."
"Because it's personal. And I'm the complete opposite of happy right now." I say "When will people realise I don't need them fighting my battles?" I mumble.
Elle folds her hands, going straight into defence mode "Probably when you grow some balls and fight them yourself."
She did not just say that.
"Hey you guys, what's the problem?" Shadé and Sam are by our side in a second with worried looks plastered on their faces.
"Why don't you ask Elle. I'm going to get something to drink." I call over my shoulder as I walk out of the living room. I push past troops of people loitering the hallways not caring if any of them recognise me as the girl from the article or, better yet, the girl who fell into the pool last night.
But I see Rex standing by the entrance of the stairway in a Batman costume and my steps falter. He's chatting animatedly to one of the varsity gymnastics team members who usually hangs around the basketball team and it feels like a slap to the face. He meant what he said.
The night just gets better and better.
I duck towards the closest opening which happens to be the brightly lit kitchen-also empty-to avoid any further mortifying interaction with Rex. The kitchen is sparkly clean enough to be used as a surgical room. Probably has to do with the fact that the snacks and drinks table is set up in the living room-which is a bummer for me because l need something to eat-or drink.
I steer around the modern kitchen, my heels clicking against the beige hardwood floor in search of snacks. I was starting to lose hope after the empty fridge -except a half-eaten banana-top and bottom drawer number 6 and under the sink but then came top drawer number 21.
Sawyer sure knows how to hide his goodies.
My height has me at a disadvantage so I climb the marble counter to get a better reach. I grab a bag of skittles, Cheetos and one out of the four bottles of wine. I pick out the fruit wine because it looks expensive and I'm in the mood for blood. My eyes skim over the label until I find what I'm searching for. 24% alcoholic.
"¡Zas!" I climb down carefully and place my stolen items on the middle aisle before opening the smaller drawers in search of a corkscrew. I find a few which isn't surprising. This seems like a house with a hidden wine cellar in the basement.
Growing up my mother always complained about Colombian wine and was obsessed with wine that is not from Colombia. This meant a lot of wine was drunk during dinners to show off whenever my abuelas or tÃos and tÃas were around. At a point, I was allowed to open the wine and I guess that made me a professional wine opener. In a few seconds I have the cork out of my son of a b*tch opened and pouring into one of the champagne flutes I found.
It isn't until I finished my first cup that I realise that the night took a pathetic turn. I'm here sipping stolen wine after taking out my frustration on my friend over something that shouldn't even matter to me like what she said isn't true.
I don't know how to stick up for myself. Never have.
And Charlie is not my boyfriend-heck I'm not sure he's my friend which gives me no right to judge what he does with his romantic life.
He wants to get back with his ex, then so be it. Elle might think that kiss was to spite her but after the conversation I had with Alexis earlier in the day, I know she wants him back and she seems like the type to get exactly what she wants.
I was just so sure that this would work out. That in some world, Charlie and I could be friends.
Oh, how wrong I was.
I pour myself another glass of wine and throw some skittles in it. I rest my head against the cupboard, my mind going along to Maroon 5's maps in the background. I wish I was at home, in New York with Blueberry, the teacup poodle my parents adopted the summer before senior year, snuggled next to me. I was upset they were planning on replacing me with an animal-until I saw said animal and fell head over heels in love.
I still fight my mum over who gets to have dog mum rights.
I guess she does because she decided our neighbour's son-whom I don't like because he's always posted up outside our New York apartment catcalling underage girls-is the best dog sitter whilst they're gone. If it were up to me, he'd be here in LA. I can only be thankful that Astro is nice enough to send me videos and pictures of Blue.
I chug the rest of my wine and smack my lips together as I pour myself another glass of. As I raise the glass to my lips I catch Charlie standing at the entrance of the kitchen. The bright light make it seem like I'm seeing him for the first time in his blue jeans and basic blue T-shirt. His sudden appearance sends a slight shiver down my spine accompanied by a fresh surge of anger. He alters his stance, shifting his weight onto one leg as he leans against the threshold with a bewildered look on his face.
How dare he look at me like he feels sorry for me.
"There you are. Been looking for you." He says.
"Your lips look a little swollen. Did you walk into a door?" My mouth fails me. Or maybe it's the alcohol starting to kick in. Either way, I rein in my feelings to prevent myself from saying another word. It doesn't concern me. Charlie's lips twitch amusedly as I slide off the counter-an amateur wine drinker mistake because my ankles wobble slightly. I suck in a deep breath "Jeez. Get it together Lorraine."
I cannot believe that I'm tipsy already. If there's an award going for the most lightweight person I reckon I'd be getting nominated.
"Are you talking to yourself?" He asks, walking into the kitchen.
"No." He gives me a pointed look "whatever." I concede "what are you doing here?"
"Isn't there a Halloween party going on somewhere around here or am I in the wrong house?"
"You know what I mean," I reply in a monotone. He doesn't get to be charming. Not right now. Charlie heaves himself off the threshold and makes his way inside the kitchen. Behind the blue paint, he shifts his eyes from me to the items next to me but doesn't say anything "what do you want Charlie? I'm not in the mood for company."
Charlie's eyebrows pinch like he's trying to think of a possible reason why I would want to be alone and I feel like grabbing the bottle of wine and chucking it at him.
"When I said we'd go to the party together I didn't mean you'd ditch me for a binge drinking session in Sawyer's kitchen."
"I'm sorry. Was I supposed to stand there and watch you make out with your girlfriend?"
"Ex-girlfriend," he corrects, picking up the bottle of wine and inspecting it. "Sawyer better not know you drank that."
"Why?" My eyes fly from the half-empty bottle to my half-empty glass. I try to ignore the fact that Charlie is standing only a few inches away from me and the whiff of that boyish scent is starting to invade my senses.
"It's a 1774 Vercel 'Vin Jaune d'Arbois'" ¡Valgame Dios! He speaks french. "Sawyer and his sister bought it at an auction in France a few months ago and their mum almost lost her sh*t. It sold for 120."
"120 dollars?"
"120,000 dollars." He corrects,
"Hijo de puta." I blurt "four zeros-as in a 120,000 thousand dollars?"
If I was Sawyer's mum, I would have lost more than my shit-perhaps my kids after I lock them up for spending that much on a bottle of alcohol that they didn't even end up drinking.
Oh shit. I drank the $120,000 wine.
I swallow, my first instinct being to run out of the kitchen, find my friends and get the hell out of here but the comic look on Charlie's face paired with the fact that no sensible person would put a bottle of wine that expensive in a kitchen cabinet makes me stay rooted to the spot.
I'm tipsy, not stupid.
"I'm going to let that sad attempt at a joke slide because your Francais is really good."
And we love a bilingual white man.
Charlie throws his head back and lets out a burst of surprised laughter. One that I feel deep in the pit of my stomach and have to keep myself from staring in awe. I realise I could listen to his laugh all day and not get bored.
"It's not the only French thing I'm good at." He declares. And oh lord, if I was drinking the wine I'm sure I'd be choking on it right now at the subtle innuendo, "I make killer French toasts too."
Right. Toasts. Get your mind out of the gutter Lorraine.
I feel my face heat up and stay quiet causing Charlie's eyes to shift between mine like he's studying me and wants to figure out what I'm thinking.
"Now that we've established the french things I'm good at," He whispers. The heat in his eyes has my veins boiling. "I could show you the other french thing I'm good at or you could tell me why you ran off earlier."
Now, I really choke.