The Anti-Delinquent System

F o u r : Let the evening be-Gin

F o u r :  Let the evening be-Gin

A pair of warm hands cover my eyes, and the dimly lit room suddenly becomes entirely dark. The fast-paced music swells around me like liquid and I stiffen in alarm, until I hear the low, familiar chuckle behind my ear. "Guess who?"

I bite the inside of my lip, tugging my smile back into a neutral expression. My voice strains over the ambient noise. "Do you happen to be tall, blonde and terrible at football?"

The hands are removed instantly, and I hear a scoffing noise behind me.

Unable to restrain my grin this time, I twist around on my heels to stare up into the accusatory eyes of Dylan Merrick. Dylan has been one of my closest friends since I first joined Lindale High. We bonded in the freshman track team, started running together and never really stopped. He's achingly attractive to everyone at school- with cool grey eyes, tan skin and messy blonde hair. Unfortunately for me, I think any possibility of a romantic connection between us died the minute we started doing yoga together.

"I'm many things, Erika, but terrible at football?" Dylan repeats, shaking his head. He leans down to collect his beer from the coffee table beside us. "Bull. You must have heard that we won the game. You're winding me up."

I survey his grey football jersey and damp hair. "I didn't hear it, I just smelt you across the room. The stench of sweat was so strong that I figured you must have won."

Dylan's grey eyes spark with amusement. "I showered."

"Oh." I widen my eyes. "Should that not be a regular occurrence?"

Dylan pushes my arm teasingly and takes a swig from his beer. "Very funny, Ricky."

We're at Sophie's party, in a cosy detached house on the nice side of Lindale. It's too small for the number of people that were invited, and everyone has spilled into the yard. The glass doors are open, and outside is a decking strung with fairy lights. I'm situated in what must be the living room, judging by the couches that people are gathered on. The beat of the music dances in the soles of my shoes and the room is warm and smells oddly sweet.

"Erika!" Another voice in the crowd greets me.

A pair of slender, dark arms loop around my neck. Kebe from cheerleading. Miko is hanging around somewhere with the cheerleaders, but I lost her ten minutes ago. Kebe begins to swing her body behind mine, singing along to Sigma loudly in my ear. After ten or so seconds, she kisses my cheek and disappears into the crowd again. Another fleeting greeting.

I take a sip from my plastic cup, containing a weak mix of gin and pink lemonade that tastes like candy. The alcohol is already beginning to take effect: I can feel the lulling weight in my head, note the tiniest lack of focus in my vision. That means I'm ready.

I check my phone. 7:58pm.

"Dylan?" I clear my throat and quickly slide the phone back into my pocket. Dylan, who had been greeting one of the other football team members, quickly turns back towards me. "Do you happen to know where Chase is? Chase Thatcher?"

His grey eyes instantly narrow. "How do you know Chase?"

I wave a hand dismissively. "Just from around school."

"Please tell me you aren't about to make a drunken mistake with one of my friends."

"Hey!" I protest, prodding a sharp fingernail into his chest. "You know I never make mistakes. It's one of the symptoms of always being right, remember?"

Dylan raises his eyebrows.

"I'm not interested in him," I state simply. "Now, do you know where he is or not?"