Chapter 3: For the First Time
Lights were flashing, music was blaring and India White was not having a good time. It wasn't that she wasn't having a particularly bad time...it was more that she just couldn't stop thinking about Sam. She couldn't help but wonder what he was doing right now...was he out having fun? Was he at home? Was he happy?
"Hello?" someone yelled at her over the music and she looked up. "You ok chica?" India nodded, the sight of the person in front of her rendering her speechless. He was tall - well over six feet - had blue eyes, black hair and was looking at her with a concerned expression on his face.
"You look kinda lost," he pressed the issue and she sighed. "What's wrong...?"
"India," she replied, "India White. And nothing's wrong...not really. It's just...well, I only came out tonight to forget about someone and it's not really worked that well if I'm honest."
"Well why don't you join me then? I'm sure I can help you forget all about him..." he offered wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at her. There was something menacing in the way he asked her that she just didn't trust but she really wanted to forget about...him. And so, against her better judgement, she took the hand he offered her and followed him onto the dance floor.
Sam Cole was frustrated...he just couldn't get her out of his head...the way her brown hair flowed down her back...the way her brown eyes sparkled...and the way her voice floated around his ears in little bell chimes. Even the blaring music and flashing lights of the Club Cascada could not distract him and before long, he found himself watching everyone else...just watching, feeling as though he was on the wrong side of a glass window.
"You ok dude?" Tristan asked his best friend, concerned. "You look kinda out of it."
Sam sighed. "I just can't get this girl outta my head."
"Wow, I didn't know you liked Skye so much." Tristan looked surprised. "I'm sure her cancelling wasn't anything personal...you know how it is dude."
"I wasn't thinking about her," Sam chuckled dryly and Tristan's mouth fell open.
"But-but she's the hottest chick like ever! Who could possibly occupy more thought space than her?"
"Just this girl," Sam replied, casting his eyes to the ground, embarrassed.
"I've been your best friend since fifth grade, you can't not tell me," Tristan said, rolling his eyes at his best friends embarrassment.
"Seriously man, it doesn't matter yeah, it's not like you know her...just leave it," Sam muttered, barely loud enough for Tristan to hear him over the music.
"What do you mean?" Tristan asked narrowing his eyes.
"Don't worry about it mate. Like I said, it doesn't matter."
"Aww man, she's not famous is she?" Tristan groaned and Sam gulped as his friend jumped to the right conclusion. "Dude, you know the rules about this, what're you playing at?"
"I dunno," Sam muttered, looking anywhere but at Tristan. "She's just different, ya know? She's real...all these celebrity chicks, yeah they're hot and all...but they just aren't real...they're not the same."
"Geez mate, you go it bad," Tristan whistled, "what're you gonna do about it?"
"Nothing, I guess," Sam began and Tristan looked at him skeptically.
"I know you man, there's no way in hell you'd do nothing."
"Nah, I'm serious dude, we're from completely different worlds and I just don't think she'd cope too well with mine," Sam sighed.
"Whatever you say," Tristan replied, still disbelieving but left it. "Hey, do you wanna get outta here? The whole point was to take your mind off of this chick, I'm guessing?"
"Yeah," Sam nodded.
"And it really doesn't seem to be working that well?"
"Not really," he agreed.
"Well then let's go back to yours where we can watch a movie and you can drown your sorrows in popcorn," Tristan suggested with a wink. Sam nodded in agreement and they left the club, and began walking to where tha car was parked.
India White should have been having a great time. An incredibly hot stranger had just picked her up at a club and was now dancing with her, grinding against her in time to the music. The thing was, aside from the fact that her present company made her feel incredibly uncomfortable, she just couldn't bring herself to think of anyone but Sam. She knew it was stupid, she had only spoken to the man once for heavens sake and yet, she was suddenly obsessed with him. It was like he had cast a spell over her, a spell that she was finding it increasingly hard to break.
"Do you wanna get out of here?" her dance partner asked, nibbling her ear as he asked. All of her instincts were screaming at her to say no and go home, but instead, she just nodded. The truth was, she had been having a terrible time tonight and maybe whatever this stranger had to offer her would be better than going back to her apartment where she would be alone to wallow all night in self pity.
"I still don't know your name," she yelled at him over the music and he smirked at her.
"Does it matter?" he asked.
"Well yeah it does, if I'm gonna leave with you," she rolled her eyes.
"Well it's Carl, Carl Weaver," he replied, as he led her out of the club, gripping her hand a little too tight. "My car's just down here," he said as they emerged into open air. "Your place or mine?"
"Actually...would it be ok if you just dropped m,e back at mine?" she asked and watched scared, as his eyes darkened. All of a sudden, she really didn't feel safe and she knew she had been stupid and naive to follow this strange man out of the club. She tried to pull her hand from his grip but he merely tightened his hold and dragged her roughly down an alleyway.
As he pinned her tightly up against the wall, she looked desperately aroud for any sign of life, anyone who could help her but all she could see was a shiny blue car with noone in it. She opened her mouth to scream but her attacker put his hand tightly over it, and her scream came out all muffled.
"Shut it you stupid bitch," Carl hissed in her ear. "You don't mess me about!" He began lifting her skirt slowly up her leg and she tried to kick him but her feeble attempts seemed futile against his big strong frame. As he started to lift up her top, she whimpered and began to kick him again and was surprised when he crumpled over. She fell to the ground in a crumpled heap and looked up to see two figures kicking the collapsed figure of Carl Weaver. She was so relieved she blacked out then, but not before she had recognised one of her saviours as Sam Cole, the reason she was out here in the first place and she felt like she was seeing him properly for the first time.
