Mallory
"He can't take his eyes off you." Cleo shouted in my ear. Her lime-eyeshadow glittered in the hazy glow of the fairy-lights scattered around the living room; her neon lime dress was explosively pretty, extroverted and unabashed as Cleo herself.
I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't respond, because my attention was caught by the fairy-lights. They embellished this house's otherwise drab walls with beauty. The strings of lights were shaped to resemble flowers, and they glowed a million colours, iridescent to my eyes.
After a gruelling week of midterms, my friends Cleo, Kennedy and I soaked ourselves in this cacophony of music and conversation to let off steam. High school ran its course without interruptions; now we had six months until university, and my plans were perfectly set into place. I knew where I was going with my life; or so I thought.
Truthfully, I came to this party with my own intentions in mind. I was dating Brent, my school's infamous quarterback. He was obnoxious and a little mean sometimes, but he treated me like a queen when we met. Our relationship should have been idyllic, but we were currently standing on the verge of a total collapse.
I toyed with my earrings, my eyes dipping as I got lost in thought. Over the past few months, my boyfriend peeled away his sweet veneer to reveal a darker, controlling side to his personality. If Brent didn't know where I was at any hour of every day, he'd call my friends incessantly with demands of my location. Cleo blocked his number from her phone weeks ago. How much longer could I bear his torments?
Kennedy wandered over from the bar, balancing a couple of Palm Bays in her hands. Her purple sequin romper shimmered under the lights. She lined the cans up neatly at our table, passing them around with skill equivalent to a professional bartender.
"Who are we talking about?" Kennedy asked us, peering around Cleo's back. She sat at our booth, crossing her legs as her purple-eyeshadowed eyes scanned the room.
Cleo smiled giddily at Kennedy, tilting her head at me. "There's a guy looking at Mallory, and I'm pretty sure he's interested. He's exactly her type, as a bonus."
I let go of my earrings and glanced around the room out of vague curiosity.
"Where is he?" Kennedy asked, peeking over Cleo's shoulder. She didn't know who Cleo was talking about either, from the way Kennedy and I were both blankly appraising the people around us.
Cleo lowered her voice as she spoke, looking over her shoulder. "He's behind me, but don't be conspicuous. You need to be charming if he comes over, Mallory." she instructed me, like I was her primary occupation for the night.
I raised my eyebrows. "Thanks, Cleo, but I don't need instructions for flirting." I answered, taking a sip of my cherry drink. "I'm still taken. And isn't tonight our girls night?"
Cleo smiled. "Doesn't mean you can't have some fun while you're here."
I tipped my head up to stare at the ceiling, wondering when the alcohol would finally hit me. If I sounded bitchy, it was only because of my frayed temper after an hour-long argument over call with Brent.
I tapped my glass, staring at it with something of disappointment in my eyes. Why couldn't life give me a pass for once?
"Conspicuous." Kennedy repeated Cleo, rolling her eyes. Cleo and I stared at her in confusion. Kennedy braced her arm on the table, pointing out, "Did you forget that Mallory has a boyfriend?"
Cleo sighed, flicking her hair back. "Lighten up, Kenny. Just a bit of window shopping. What do you say, Mallory?" she asked, her brow creasing as she looked at me.
Cleo and I were childhood friends for years; Kennedy made our trio a few years ago. As polar opposites, the three of us weren't always on the same wavelength when it came to relationships. But we understood each other, and made our individual preferences pretty clear.
I tilted my chair back, sighing to myself as I set my unopened drink down. "I don't know, guys. I want to break up with Brent, but I'm not sure if it's worth it. We always go back to each other, anyway."
Kennedy shrugged, reaching over to hold my hand. "You can look at what's on the market, Mallory. It isn't illegal. If this boy is interested, he'll come over to you." She looked around the room for the boy, and when her eyes widened, I assumed that Kennedy found him. "Wow, he's fine. Gorgeous, even."
I opened my can, taking a sip before I spoke. "If he wants to talk to me, he can come over. I don't bite." I told them, my eyes hovering over the edge of my drink, as I continued to search the crowd.
Cleo chuckled to herself. "He isn't staring, really. Just looks over every once in a while. Look at him and tell us what you think?"
I glanced away from my friends' eager faces to the people around us. This house party was unlike anything I'd seen, purely because of the size of the rich owners' enormous living room. There was enough space to house a couple of tables and chairs, which neatly lined a crowded, glowing dance floor. The room was dark, but for a few lamps scattered around the walls.
I found the table Cleo indicated. True to her word, there were six boys sitting together. I recognised one of them as Brent's friend, and I sank further down in my seat. As my eyes flicked over them carelessly, I noticed one of the boys looking in our direction.
He was attractive, there was no point in denying it. He had pretty eyes; dark brown, but sharp with intelligence. One of his friends caught the boy's attention, and when he smiled at them, his eyes drew in at the outer corners. Even his smile was gorgeous, damn it. His hair was messy, a little darker than those brown eyes, and his black shirt was nice. Good dress sense was always a massive tick.
After talking to his friends for a few minutes, I saw him turn back to look at me, in my periphery. I fought the urge to smile, because there was something inexplicably sweet about the tiny glances he'd give me between his conversations. Cleo's efforts with my makeup and Kennedy's choice of my dress boosted me to a level of confidence that I knew I deserved.
I seamlessly glanced over my wine-red dress, making sure it looked perfect. My lipstick was siren red to match. If this boy didn't think I was worth approaching, I'd show that I was worth more than a few perfunctory glances.
"Do you guys want to dance?" I innocently asked Cleo and Kennedy, tilting my head at the crowded floor.
"Do I?" Kennedy squealed, grabbing Cleo's hand. Cleo protested as Kennedy dragged her over, and I followed my two best friends. I walked past the crowd of bodies, drunk off my own confidence. I closed my eyes, feeling the slow beat of the music wash over me. Before I registered it, my hips were swaying and I lifted my hair in my hands.
Kennedy and Cleo were playfully competing to see who could dip the other girl in the sexiest way. Cleo was gorgeous, and she knew how to make herself look good. People tended to have crushes on her, because of her beautifully low voice and sultry eyes.
Kennedy had the beautiful sort of energy that people looked for, being sassy and always dressed to the nines. My best friends were easily some of the brightest people in the room.
I looked over at brown-eyed boy's table. His friends were there, some of them staring at Cleo and Kennedy, but my boy was gone. Then I felt stupid for looking, because I came to this party to have fun with my friends. Chasing after a boy was never on my list of action.
In a last ditch attempt at preserving my dignity, I told Cleo and Kennedy that I wanted to get some shots. I went over to the bar, resisting the urge to hold my face in my hands. My makeup was too good to ruin. I ordered the drinks, and waited on the barstool. In my periphery, I saw someone sit next to me.
"Hey." a soothing, low voice greeted me. I turned and my eyes widened. It was him, and he was giving me the most charming smile ever.
I covered my shock with a smile, steeling myself. He got up the courage to approach me, and I needed to follow through without screwing up.
"Hi." I replied, my brain evaporating on the spot. My mind was scrambling for a witty comment or remark, but this boy left me speechless. He was leaning towards me slightly, propping his elbow on the bar table. And his smile was enough to render me completely incoherent.
"So what's your drink of choice?" he asked, studying me curiously. I resisted the urge to smile, noting that he had zero filter.
"Tequila shots tonight, apparently." I replied with some grace, indicating the shots in front of me. The glasses were complete with lime wedges and salt.
"You know what they say about girls who like tequila?" he asked, his eyes slightly lighter than obsidian in the dim light. I shook my head, bemused. He smiled; his positivity was contagious. "No one says anything, but apparently you are what you drink. Tequila lovers are confident and beautiful, according to this slip in my jacket."
He showed me a blank scrap of paper. I stared at it in confusion, then a smile broke out on my face. Despite his line's corniness, the boy's innate charm made me laugh.
That was the most fatal mistake. My laugh dissolved into an ugly sound, falling from me like an uncontrollable landslide. I covered my mouth, horrified and embarrassed by my mistake. We only just started talking. If this boy wasn't already running for the hills, then here was his chance.
But he didn't; he just threw back his head and laughed. The bartender jumped, looking at us with an annoyed expression, and I tried to apologise with my eyes.
His laughter fading, my partner in crime shook his head at me, newfound amusement gleaming in his eyes. "Your laugh is adorable." he admitted, smiling broadly at me.
"I call it my ugly snort," I confessed, cupping my chin in my hand with my elbow braced on the bar table. I had no control over my words when I was drunk, but my mouth was a runaway steamroller now. "It always comes out at the worst time."
"Like when?" he asked curiously, leaning into me. His whole body was turned to me, but he kept a respectable distance between us. Surely that was a sign of interest?
I winced. "At my grandmother's funeral. My aunt made a joke during her speech, and it burst out of me. It was so hard to deal with the awkward silence afterwards."
He grinned, leaning into me, that I could see every speck of gold in his eyes. "If I was there, I would have laughed with you. Awkward situations aren't bad if you make them into a team effort."
I smiled, my eyes running over his face as I spoke. "That's one way of putting it. Do you have any embarrassing habits? So I can lick my wounds without too much agony."
A grin broadened his mouth. I kept on glancing at it, because his lips were distractingly full. Everything about him screamed perfection. To contrast his confidence, an abstract sense of humility completed the picture.
"I'm developing a habit of talking to interesting girls I meet at clubs. Only started today, in fact. But it's not embarrassing at all." he replied with a sly smile.
I could feel myself blushing. How did this boy manage to flirt like that when I could barely string two sentences together? "That might get you in trouble someday." I commented, trying to sound calm and unbothered.
"Maybe it would. I'm willing to take a chance tonight, though." he replied, taking a swig of his drink. His eyes were light. The sparks in them drew me in, because I knew that he was daring me to walk on fire with him.
I bet he propositioned girls all the time. He was so calm, whereas everything inside my body felt like it was jumbled into a euphoric mess. Butterflies in my stomach? More like a tornado.
I smiled at him. Maybe it really was the alcohol, but I felt like being reckless tonight. "I'm thinking about taking a chance right now."
He mimed his thoughts transferring from his brain to mine, grinning. "I was thinking the exact same thing."
"Then do you know what I'm thinking right now?" I asked, my heart hammering in my chest as I took the plunge. I took his hand in mine and stood, smiling down at him. "How about a dance?"
"Only if I lead." he replied with ease, starting to walk ahead with my hand firmly grasped in his. Getting through the crowd of sweaty people was tricky, but the mystery stranger was by my side all the time. He constantly looked back to ensure he didn't lose me.
I turned so that my back was just touching his chest, moving closer to him. I felt his hands lightly ghost my hips. I closed my eyes, moving my body to the music as I felt him mirror my movements. I barely noticed the crowds of people around us; all I could feel and see was him. Everything slowed; I only wanted this moment to last for as long as I could make it.
He leaned in, his mouth brushing my ear. "I saw you on the floor earlier. You're a great dancer."
Butterflies erupted in my stomach. I smiled at him, flattered but understanding. "You're being kind. I'm average, and I know it."
"You're much more than average." he replied softly. I raised my eyebrows at him, though he couldn't see my face properly in the dim light.
"I know." I leaned closer to him, trying to ignore my heart hammering in my chest.
He smiled, leaning into me, and I thought for a second that he would kiss me. When his lips were a hair's breadth from mine, his eyes cast upwards to the back of the room. He cleared his throat, moving away. "I'll see you soon, but I have to go now. My friends are calling me over." he said with a parting smile.
"Wait a second," I protested, but he was already lost in the crowd. I looked around desperately, but it was useless. There were too many people, too many bodies for me to have a hope of catching him. I didn't know his name, or his number, but he still managed to make my heart skip a beat.
I wandered back to Cleo and Kennedy for consolation. Kennedy was eagerly downing shots as I sat on the barstool next to her. Cleo smiled, pushing a glass in my direction, but her happy smile became concerned. "What happened? I saw you dancing with that fitty who was eyeing you. He's your type on paper."
I groaned, and my head flopped against the table. I heard Kennedy and Cleo exclaim as they asked me what happened. I sat up, fixing my hair as I vented my frustrations. "He just left me while we were dancing. Or maybe I'm delusional, and nothing really happened in the first place. Who even does that?"
"That was shitty of him." Cleo said supportively, passing me a few gleaming shot glasses. "But it's nothing a few shots can't fix."
I sighed, flopping onto my chair. I didn't care that my expensive dress was crumpling, because my night wasn't going the way I planned. "Thank goodness for shots."
"But what about Brent?" Kennedy asked, looking concerned. "I know whatever just happened wasn't serious, but I thought you guys were getting better."
"We are." I lied. "Everything's fine. We've been on a break for the past week, anyway."
"He doesn't seem to know that." Cleo said pointedly.
I covered my face with my hands, sighing. "I'm a mess, guys. I barely know what's happening in my own relationship anymore."
"Mallory." Kennedy said cautiously. "You don't seem happy with Brent. Is it time to cut him off?"
"Not yet." I protested. "I know what I said, but I'm taking it back. Brent was sweet to me, before the pressure of high school got to him. He's just stressed."
That ended our conversation about Brent. For the next few hours, I drank, laughed and danced with my best friends. But my thoughts kept on returning to my mystery boy with the smiling eyes. I really wanted to know who he was, even if it came at the cost of my relationship with Brent.
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