FIRST KISS (High School Romance - FYI - In need of redrafting/rewrites)

Chapter Eight

"Hurry up!" said Luke, pushing his way through the crowd. "We're the advance party; we have to be there before everyone else!"

We ran across the parking lot and piled into Luke's truck. He turned on the engine and whacked the heating up immediately and switched on the radio. Rita Ora's 'Radioactive' came booming out and Anna started singing along. She was sitting up front with Luke, whereas I was in the back, crushed between Andrew and two other guys: Ben and Mark, who were grungy mates of Luke's.

In fact, I was sitting on Andrew's lap and he had his hands round my waist because there wasn't room for us all to sit. I wasn't entirely comfortable with it, but Mark pulled out a bottle of cider and passed it round and immediately the bubbles and sweet taste made me feel better.

"This is going to be so awesome!" said Luke, putting his foot on the accelerator and turning up the music.

The ride was only about five minutes, so just as quick we were pouring out the truck into Luke's driveway.

His house was huge: the perfect party house. I think it may have been the reason Luke was popular at all - he wasn't good looking or particularly smart. But he was fun and in the summer he hosted pool parties and had BBQs. Or we just hung out there in the home cinema in the basement, eating takeout pizza. Bryce and I had spent a lot of evenings over at Luke's, playing computer games (mostly they played and I watched), or just vegging out.

The great thing about the parties though, and it said a lot about Luke, was that he wasn't fussy about who came. He didn't care if the kids were cool or nerdy - as long as they wanted to be there, they brought food or alcohol, and they were willing to have fun, he didn't care too much. It was one of the reasons everyone loved him (aside from the massive house).

Luke ran over the front lawn and unlocked the door, switching on the lights. We all followed him inside; there was a staleness to the air, no doubt because his parents had been away for a while and Luke was hardly there at all.

He plugged his ipod into the dock and fiddled with it until he found the right playlist. Then the music thudded out - it was hooked up to the Bose speaker system throughout the house, and it was so loud I wanted to cover my ears. Good job Luke's neighbours weren't that close.

"This place is crazy," said Andrew, spinning round in the kitchen, trying to take it all in. "I mean, this house is a palace."

"Thanks," said Luke, slapping Andrew on the shoulder as though they had been mates for ages. He pulled a huge bowl out of a cupboard and banged it down on the granite-topped island in the middle of the kitchen. Then he started unscrewing Malibu and vodka bottles and fruit juices and making up a huge punch. Anna was helping, setting out plastic cups. She dipped a few into the bowl when Luke was finished and gave them to us. The mixture was sickly sweet, and pretty strong.

I put my cup down and went outside quickly to call my parents and tell them where I was, telling them that I might, possibly, stay at Luke's that night. I wanted the option to be there if I felt like staying over, or if the party went on really late.

The first of the guests were drawing up, excitedly hopping from cars and trucks, laden with snacks and chocolate, or alcohol if they could get it (which a lot of them couldn't). The point was to give Luke something, anything, to show your thanks. As long as the gift in some way enhanced the party and cut down Luke's costs, you were in.

"Where were you?" asked Andrew, when I reappeared. He had already finished half a cup of punch and I had only been gone for a minute or two.

"Just calling my parents," I said, aware that Andrew probably wouldn't know many people at the party, and that I might be lumbered with him all night, thanks to Luke and Anna. I knew it was mean, but I began plotting how to get rid of him right then and there.

The memory of last Friday, and the pain of the hangover the next day, was still fresh in my mind. I didn't really want to drink at all, but I felt so awkward that I kept sipping on my punch. I set myself a limit of three glasses that I would string out to last the whole evening, and I would drink water in between.

"I guess Bryce will be here soon," said Andrew. I was surprised that he was even interested in when Bryce might arrive. I thought I was the only one who would be calculating the time of his arrival.

Right now he was probably just out the shower...

"I guess so," I said, stopping that thought right where it was. It was too weird to think about Bryce like that, so I tried not to.

"You like him, don't you?" he asked.

"He's my friend."

"I know," said Andrew. "Before we started singing together that was the only thing I knew about you. I wasn't even sure what your name was."

Wow. Andrew didn't even know how cruel that was.

"Great. Thanks," I said, making it very obvious that I wasn't pleased.

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant you're more low-key than Bryce."

"Again, thanks." I rolled my eyes.

"Ugh. I don't know what I'm talking about. Sorry. But now I know you, you aren't just the girl that hangs out with Bryce, you know? You're Mel, an incredibly talented singer. You have a beautiful voice."

He had my attention. "You think so?"

"Sure. I wouldn't sing with you otherwise. Your voice is like a Mercedes."

"What?"

"You know, it's rich and classy and comfortable and strong. A little bit of luxury."

"Hmmm," I mused, unsure as to what he meant exactly.

Around us, the room was filling up with over-excited students, and I felt myself being jostled on all sides.

I made my excuses and wandered off, claiming that I was going to find Anna and help with the food, but actually I just wanted to get away from Andrew. I knew I had to make my intentions clear early on at this party: I was not interested in spending the entire evening with Andrew Phillips.

I pushed my way into the hall and through to the sitting room. MTV was blaring on the huge plasma screen TV, battling with the music from Luke's ipod for air-time.

Some kids had brought pizza, and they were holding the floppy slices in their hands and chewing on them. I realised I was really hungry and dived into the communal pizzas, taking a slice of pepperoni. It was delicious, so I had another, lingering by the table without talking to anyone.

A car horn beeped outside, four or five times, held down a long while each time. It was definitely the football team. People began running out onto the porch and yelling congratulations, shouting and clapping as the guys, the cheerleaders in tow, got out their cars and ran into the house.

I didn't move. Instead I let the bodies flow around me, and I took another piece of pizza. I could hear people shouting Bryce's name. It was weird to think that normally I would have been the first one out there to greet him, cheering him on and giving him a huge bear hug. Now I felt that if I stood out there, he might ignore me entirely, and I didn't want him to have the opportunity.

"Dude, you were so great!" I could hear Luke yelling in the hall, the slap of his palm against Bryce's as he came in. "This party is totally for you. In your honour, man," said Luke. He sounded stoned or something, which wouldn't have surprised me in the least.

"Thanks," said Bryce. "Where's Mel?"

"Oh babe, not now. Let's get a drink. You can find her later," said Taylor. I peeked out into the hall to see her pulling on his arm, dragging him to the kitchen.

But he had asked for me; he wanted to find me. I was heartened at the thought, and determined to try and get a chance to speak to him alone. I knew I might have to wait, because everyone wanted a slice of Bryce right now, but I was OK with that.

Bryce was worth waiting for, even if he sometimes acted like a complete moron.