Maverick

Chapter 13

Fierce reds, icy blues and bright, fluorescent yellows danced magically across the huge windows of Ezra's house as I made my way up the path, doing my best to dodge the unfaltering crowd of hysterical teenagers in bunches of twos or threes, all heading in the same direction. I stared at them; their hair was spray dyed all the colours of the rainbow, droopy Hawaiian flowers hung around their scrawny necks, their vibrant clothes were barely covering their dignity. I looked down at my own outfit: a red collared shirt and denim shorts, hardly the Hawaiian flavour Ezra had been going for. Dodging an empty beer can that had been chucked in my direction, I decided that I had probably made the most minimal effort possible.

Ezra's house was lavishly decked out: streams of brightly coloured and glittering paper flowers hung suspended from the high ceilings, plastic palm trees and cardboard cut outs of Hula ladies were dotted around the expensive Persian carpets.

"If your parents were here they would murder you," I mumbled to no one in particular as I sidestepped two girls with identically matched orange bikinis and pink hair, and walked up to the DJ deck. Gabby was seated on one of their Grandparents' vintage wooded chairs, dressed in a Guns and Roses T-shirt with black shorts and fishnet tights. She was sipping from a plastic cup in one hand, her mobile in the other. Her long, dark hair was exquisitely braided in an elaborate French plait. She looked up and smiled when she saw me. "Hey, Reece."

"Hey," I returned, and sat next to her in the next wooden chair. "You staying for the party?"

"God, no. A bunch of teenagers dancing to their crappy music and puking up all over the place?" She shuddered. "Not for me, thanks."

"Where are you going, then?" I asked, gesturing to her outfit and heavily made up face.

"James is taking me out," she replied, whipping out a mirror from her handbag and checking her highly pigmented red lipstick.

James was Gabby's long-term boyfriend and had been for years; people in town were even talking about the possibility of James proposing this side of next surfing season. I didn't know how Ezra felt about that, and to be honest, I hadn't even asked. Talking about love wasn't one of our conversation topics, and I wasn't feeling to change that any time soon.

"So," began Gabby, dabbing at the crease of her lips. "Ezra tells me you've got a new guy."

"God..." I moaned, burying my head in my hands. "Is there anything Ezra doesn't share with almost everyone on the whole planet?"

Gabby laughed. "So is it true, then?"

"Sadly, no," I said, shrugging my shoulders as if I couldn't care less whether it was true or not. "Well, we're not going out or anything. He's just a friend."

"Mmm." Gabby's mascaraed eyes drifted over to a group of eighteen year old boys from the skate club downing vodka shots from white plastic cups. "Is he here?"

"No," I answered firmly, "And why are you and Isaac so interested in my love life, anyway?"

Gabby shifted slightly in her seat, appearing uncomfortable. Her eyes narrowed as if she sensed my suspicion. "No reason."

I decided to drop the subject. "Gabby, do you know if Ezra has a bouncer-type person, it's just that I don't want Oscar..."

"Don't worry, Reece." Gabby put a hand on my knee reassuringly. "That rodent's not coming within ten miles of you."

Over the blaring thump of the dub step I faintly heard a honking sound and Gabby jumped to her feet. "That's James." She leant down and swiftly planted a kiss on my cheek. "See you later, honey. Be good," she added, pointing a warning finger in my direction. I nodded and gave her the brightest smile I could, which just so happened to not be very bright at all. I sat there, surveying the crowds of teenagers all drinking and laughing and having a great time. A boy with spiked green hair was making out passionately with a girl who looked half his age in a dark corner, his hand snaking up the back of her dress like a lizard. An older guy was stood at the mini-bar, pouring an intense, glowing blue liquid into three girl's cups. A cheap scorpion medallion glinted in the musky air, lying nestled in his hairy chest. I ran a hand through my hair and let out a breath. Making my way to the bar, and leant forward on my elbows and tried to speak over the pounding of the bass in the music. "Whatever that is, I'll have it."