Everlast. (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Drunkenly Idiotic.

“Truth or dare?”
I gulped at the question.
This was my first party.
My first and probably last.
It was crowded.
Most of these people don’t even go to our school.
They probably are from the other side of town.
The only reason I went was because Phoebe made me,
she likes this kid Reginald,
who was asking me this question.
At this point about half the girls had their shirts off,
one girl wasn’t wearing anything except her pants.
Her name was Harriet,
she seemed nice.
Seemed nice, until she was half naked.
Phoebe and I were the only girls in the group with all our clothes on.
Phoebe was wearing her black leather jacket and black and red striped shirt,
with her ripped up skinny jeans and black heals.
I on the other hand was wearing a blue sundress and a grey cardigan,
and my white mary janes which I just bought.
When Phoebe said this was going to be a casual party.
So I brought my casual attire.
She lied to me.
I feel betrayed.
Though she needs me to be her “wing-man.”
Just this once...
“Truth.”
I am avoiding taking my clothes off.
“Have you ever shagged anybody?”
Everyone started to laugh including Phoebe.
Reginald drank out of his bright red plastic cup.
“Sorry, wanted to entertain myself love.”
“Jade is waiting for Mr. Right.”
Phoebe grunted while drinking out of something that looked revolting,
it had a bug in it.
She was to bunkered to even care.
“You are ain’t cha?”
I nodded at Reginald’s response.
I wasn’t ashamed by wanting to wait.
I was happy and I know I was making the right decision.
But it makes me feel a tad bad though.
“Well in all honesty that is probably the right choice.”
I look to the side to see Harriet smoking a cigarette,
chest revealing and talking to me,
the prude.
“Really?”
“Ya, means you don’t have to be as fucked as the rest of us.”
She inhaled the stick and moved her lips so she blew upwards in the air,
instead of to my face.
She was considerate.
“See if you weren’t a prude, you wouldn’t be naked like me.”
I laughed under my cold breath.
Just then, I heard the door open.
I looked up to see him come in.
The one that I have had a crush on since I was twelve.
The one I was best friends with till he found of about Mum.
Till he found out Dad left us.
Till he found out Dad left us because of me.
Because I deserved it.
He and Reginald were brothers.
Step-brothers.
Noah Pits.
I know the name was snobby.
Though I have dreamt of being Jade PIts for years.
I am only fourteen, but I know what I want.
He was fifteen, same year.
Reginald was seventeen.
Phoebe liked the older boys.
“Brother, come sit with us.”
Reg swung his drunken hand, signaling Noah to come and sit with us.
“No, I’m good. Going to my room-”
He was interrupted, by what seemed like nothing.
He was looking me dead in the eyes.
I knew he was because he pupils were dilated on me.
His finger lifted towards me.
Pointing straight at me.
“Jade...”
He remembered my name.
He had to.
We were best friends for years.
“What are you doing here-”
“Dare.”
I was stumbled with words.
What was I suppose to say?
I blurted it out.
I was turning flush colored.
Pink.
No red.
I was horrified.
“I want a dare.”
What was I doing?
Trying to impress Noah?
Hopefully it was working.
Reginald took a sip of the mixture in his red plastic cup.
He held his hand up as he swallowed.
“I’ll give you an easy one okay newb?”
I am not taking off my clothes.
In the name of Jesus I am not.
If he says take your-
“Go up to my brother’s room for seven minutes.”
What?
Was that it?
I rather take my clothes off.
“W-W-W-Wha-”
“No catch Winters, just go up, unless you want to-”
“In the name of God.”
I jumped up and started to walk fast towards the stairs,
where Noah still was at.
Was he waiting for me?
Did he know?
I started to walk slower.
The slower I go the longer it takes.
Maybe that will speed up the time.
I wanted to be with Noah yes more then anything.
But I didn’t ant to be next to him...you know?
His hands were in his pockets.
“So...what do you wanna do?”
I grasped onto my purse which was around my right shoulder.
“Not talk...”
“Sounds good to me.”
Lord help us.

•••

    “Did I do something wrong?” I was on the phone with Phoebe. I was my break at work and the day was slow. It was a Tuesday and I got called in because Delia broke her ankle trying to do some new tricks, and Sugar needed me in. I was going to have the day off, but honestly I needed some time at work to escape the emotional drama going in my head. At least I will be focused on something else.
    “I doubt it,” she replied. I could tell she was eating something from the smacking of her lips on the phone. She knew I hated that, but I was letting her get away with this. This was to important then annoying eating habits. “When was the last time he talked to you?”
    “Since you came over with Ed to pick up the money,” that was three days ago. Harry hasn’t talked to me in three days. Usually he is texting me all day, calling me at night before I go to bed, or at my house or in my sight. He hasn’t done one of those things. I am to nervous to even talk to him after his freak out when Phoebe and Ed came over. I leaned against the brick wall, “Do you think he’s...”
    “NO!” Phoebe interrupted me. “If he did then he is a fucktard. Don’t date a fucktard, they are the fuckiest of fucks-”
    “Like Reginald?” I laughed at my comment. She hated when I talked about him.
    “We shall not speak of him,” she whispered sharply. I started to laugh even harder out loud, kicking the back of my foot onto the brick wall. My heels were off and in front of me. I needed a break from ten inch stilettos. “Though seriously, call him and ask him to come over sometime.”
    “That is so needy though,” I replied sternly. I get a temper when Phoebe acts as if I am needy or something. “I don’t need anybody to help me-”
    “Dude defensive much?” Phoebe was right. I was getting annoyed for no reason. Though he should have called and explain what the hell was going on. “Listen I need to go take care of your kid and try to do some work and you go back to work.”
    I brushed my available hand against the brick wall outside the club. “You’re right,” I admitted. “I will contact him after I am done with you.”
    “I know I am,” she replied.
    Bitch.
    “Okay,” I rolled my blues, “I love you.”
    “Oker,” Food was absorbing her mouth, “I lurb you too.”
    I pressed my thumb against the nearly crack screen. Damn I needed a new phone. I went down my recent calls to reveal me and Harry’s conversation, multiple ones to be exact. Ones that line up on my phone for ages. I scroll down my phone for an extended period of time to even realize how much we talk. I shake my head in frustration and I tap his name. I put the phone against my ear. I hear the first ring; it flutters my ear. I hear a couple more rings; ages go bye.
    “Hello,” the voice answers. He sounds cheerful, like nothing happened.
    “Hi Harry I was just wondering-”
    “It’s Harry. I’m not here right now but leave your number and name and I will call you later. Thank you.”
    Damn his cheeky voicemail. Making me fall for him even more.
    “Hi...” I say after the ring pops into my ear it seems like. “It’s me...I know we haven’t talked in days but I just wanted to call and see if everything is alright. Um...” What else do I say to the man who totally was MIA three days ago, because that wasn’t the Harry I grew to know. “I am at work till nine, just so you know,” I hope he gets the hint that I want him to stop by and pick me up, or get a lap dance, I just have to see him. “Well...I should go...bye.” I tap my phone and quickly regret everything. I feel like I am fourteen again. I am so lame.
    I kick the brick wall with the back of my foot. “SHIT!” I scream. I press the back of my body against the wall and pull myself down to the cold concrete ground. My arms over my head and my head between my legs. I start to breathe and try to pull myself together. “I fucking hate this,” I say to myself. “Why the hell would he do this? I should be the one flipping the fuck out.” I can feel myself getting hot and temperamental. “Fuck I need something to drink.” I grab my phone and scroll through my contacts. I find Sugar’s name and tap it. Doing the same routine as before.
    The rings flutter my ears, though I know she will answer.
    “Helloo,” she answers.
    “Do we have some of that birthday cake vodka left?” I asked politely. I tend to bite my nails when I am nervous. I always feel so guilty when I drink, or even when I ask for some alcohol. It is like I am a child, I need permission from someone to let me do something rebellious. I am still one. I have to tell myself that.
    I hear Sugar sigh loudly. “Hold on,” I know she is being sarcastic, meaning my request has been approved. “Charlie!” You could hear her shout. “Make a couple of birthday cake drinks,” I could hear the drunken bartender slur and yell. “I don’t care about your physical condition, I pay you bitch.” I was trying not to laugh or associate with their conversation. “Fine, quit. See if I care,” I could hear her put the phone back against her ear. “I’ll be out in five.”
    “Thank you,” I was thankful for her. “I need a little break from the world.”
    “Mhm,” she moaned. “We all do.”
    I heard her hung up on the phone. I waited, I was still siting on the concrete floor and had my hands on my knees. I almost fell asleep a couple of times. I was so tired from working, being a mom, and being alive. I feel as if my funk is probably getting the best of me. Or is it just Harry? Why is a man making me feel the urge to drink?
    “Here,” I look up to see Sugar, dressed in partial drag except she wasn’t wearing the wig. She was holding a tray full of drinks. Regular shot glasses with watery sugary paste at the brim around the glass with sprinkles over it to attached on, acting as a glue. Inside the glass was a white liquid, the drink I have needing for the past five minutes. Sugar sat down next to me against the wall. “This is where you hang out?”
    “You hang out here often,” I reply as she leans against the wall, easing into it as I did. It is quite comfortable once you ease into the wall and the concrete. The brick can serve as a pillow. Maybe it is just me and Sugar who feel like this. “You own the damn block it seems like.”
    “I own the club,” Sugar replied, handing me a shot, “and I intimidate every owner on the block so they know who is in charge.”
    I laugh at her response and take the drink with glee. I look over at her ebony face to see her try to attempt to drink it, until she sees me glare at her. Sugar rolled her eyes.
    “Cheers,” she sarcastically remarked. We clicked our glasses together, then drank the burning liquid. It slithered down my throat, burning some patches. Though the flavor of cake and frosting made the drink sweet and mislead the point where it was burning me. Sugar took it like the man she was born to not be.
    “Cheers to the mother fucking life,” Sugar screamed.
    “Cheers to the single life,” I screamed, getting buzzed a little bit.
    “What happened to Harold?” Of course I told Sugar about Harry. She had to know since he was the mysterious man that was picking me up from work and taking me home.
    “Whose Harold?” I wondered myself who Harry was. “Is he the guy that I fell for?”
    “So you love him?” I drank another shot to avoid the question. Hopefully to somehow slur the question. I squinted my eyes as the sweet drink was slithering down my rough throat, burning it down to my stomach. I exhaled after it went to my stomach. I looked over to see her still looking at me.
    “I don’t know,” and I didn’t lie. I actually don’t know my feelings towards Harry. “He is so confusing, yet I see myself being with him for a long time. And it has only been three weeks. Why am I falling for a man after three weeks?” I can feel the alcohol catching up upon on me. I know I will start to slur each word and fall into a daze of happiness and sadness; some of the emotions I experience while under the influence.
    “Well,” Sugar took a shot. She had no emotion whilst drinking. Is it because she is so used to it? Maybe I am like a beginner. Are there beginners in drinking? “You should call him.”
    I glared at her. Feeling my eyes close on me, I knew I had to stay awake some how. “I have already t-t-ried that?” I slur. “He doesn’t pick me up.”   
    Sugar rolled her eyes, “Obviously three shots in under five minutes was a big mistake,” she admits while pulling my nimble body up. “You go in the back and lie down.”
    “No I don’t,” I kept slurring my words. Sugar picked me up with one arm and carried me over her broad manly shoulder.
    “Sure,” She pushed the back door open with her heel in order to keep me up and balanced. She was a man, so she had the strength needed to carry me and to open a heavy back door to a strip club.
    My head was in a daze. I was staring at the floor the entire time I was over Sugar’s shoulder. I noticed the hard cement floor that was our hallway, and then the plaster wood flooring which was the dressing room. My head flopped back as she set me on the couch. I started to laugh and plop my body against the cushion.
    “Pull yourself together Jade,” Sugar screeched.
    I laughed, noting that I was pissing her off even more. “You are to funny babe,” I laughed. “I missed you Harry.” I look up to not see Harry, I didn’t even see Sugar. I was alone, in a dressing room. I realized what I was; drunk and alone. I don’t need this. I just wanna be happy. I stumbled off of the couch and starting to stumble outside the dressing room. I put both my hands lightly on the door hinges, in order to retain my balance and to clear my head. I could feel blood circulating around my body. I looked out the door to see Crystal and Jules and the others were walking down the hall in full attire for a stripper; basically nothing. I had the decency to wear a sweatshirt when I went outside and sweatpants. By now, I don’t remember why my sweatshirt is off, and I am wearing my black glitter bra and grey swear pants; half stripper attire, half mum attire. They walked past me.
    “Nice face Sher,” Crystal mocked as she walked by, “did that boyfriend fix it up for you? Chris Brown and Rihanna sheen was in two years ago babe.”
    All the girls started to laugh and walk down the hall towards the main stage. I didn’t mind the remark, I would have if in fact I wasn’t as intoxicated as I was.
    “Hey Crystal B-Balls,” I slur. I already am laughing at my remark which I am about to say. “I would compliment your-r-r-r arse-e-e...but the tupperware wants it’s product back.”
    I watched her stop in the hall and turn around, her black charcoal hair swiftly moving to her shoulder. I on the other hand started to pretty much stumble and run away to the side entrance to the stage and bar. The main floor. Though after three sloppy steps, I stumbled and fell on my face on the concrete floor. I heard Crystal and the rest laughing. I touched my nose and felt the red liquid coming out slowly. I started to laugh drunkly and put my legs up as I was lying face first into the ground.
    “I fell down,” I mumble.
    “Yes you did,” Crystal was still laughing. I knew she was not even more then a foot away from me at this point.
    “Go away,” I slurred. My face was still on the floor. My voice was muffled. “I miss Harry...”
    I didn’t hear anyone. I felt to drunk to get up.
    “Crystal,” I finally pulled myself up a little bit to the point where I was sitting up. I finally stood up and walked back into the dressing room. I found my sweatshirt which was lying right next to the open door. I picked it up slowly and slipped it over my head, and roughly straightening my arms and pulling the sleeves so my hands could go through them. I lied down on the couch. My hood pulled up and my arms crossed. Next thing I realized was the actual fact that I was asleep. I woke up swiftly and hurried towards my phone which was in my locker and or cubby. The time; 8:08, was asleep for about an hour. I slept off my drunkenness. That was what I thought until I stumbled a little bit. I unlocked my phone with one swipe and type in Sugar’s name in my contacts. I tapped on it and waited for the flutter of rings to illuminate my ears.
    “Hey dolls,” Damn voicemail, tired of the stupid term voicemail. Sets you up for disaster. “Sorry I can’t get to the tele but I am so busy, leave me your name and purpose and maybe I’ll get to you. Muwah!”
    The beep scared me a little bit after the message; made me jump. “Hey Sug, it’s me,” I went out the front entrance, placing my bag over my shoulder, “sorry about earlier. I am heading out and-”
    I couldn’t finish my sentence, or even my thought. When I walked out, I saw the one person who I was trying to contact and avoid all at the same time. Harry was leaning against his black Range Rover. He was wearing a brown fake faux fabric jacket  with a black button up long sleeve shirt and a white undershirt under it. He was also wearing his famous black pants and black slacks. His hair was quiffed back and his hands were slipped into his jacket’s pocket. I was utterly speechless, by his presence, and by his appearance.
    “So,” he smirked, “are you just going to stand there, or are you going to get in the car?”