House Bound

Prologue - House Party

       It was official, parties sucked.

       For two years, Karen had been begging me to go out with her. Live it up a little, she said. Have the high school experience, she said.

       So finally, in my last year at Ashley Waters, I'd sucked it up and gone along with her to one of Rocky's famous post-game parties. And here I was, barely ten minutes after arriving, being paraded around Rocky's living room on Mike's shoulders as drunk kids hooted and hollered encouragement and profanity at us.

       "Just so we have this on record," I called weakly to Karen, "I'm never listening to you again."

       Apparently Mike was even more affectionate when he was tipsy, and had a harder time understanding rejection. I don't know how he seriously expected my answer to change after the sixty seventh proposal, but apparently his strongest trait was determination. That was probably a good trait for him, it was not so great for me.

       I awkwardly patted his back again to be let down as Karen cackled from the other end of the room, snorting as she saluted me with her red cup of crazy-inducing liquid. No help there, then. Mike only wiggled his butt in response, making me even dizzier as the last of the blood in my body finished rushing to my head.

       "Hey!" A voice roared, momentarily breaking through the din of bad music and drunk teenagers, "let her go!"

       I had two seconds to be grateful that someone had stepped in, before I was being dropped unceremoniously onto the floor by a startled Mike. Another three seconds passed before arms went around my waist and dragged me upright.

       My brain was too flooded with blood from being upside down to stop the room from spinning, so I leaned helplessly into the chest of someone far bigger and taller than myself as they held onto me. One hand had crept a little too far down towards my bruised butt for my liking, and I brushed it away firmly.

       "Hey now, Rocky's girl should be thankful. How about a kiss?" A familiar rough voice husked into my ear, his breath washing over me with the stench of strong alcohol.

       Rocky had also heard enough rejections from me to last a lifetime. I suppose it was the recurring tragedy of my life that my words never seemed to hold any weight, especially those I considered to be the more important ones - 'no,' 'stop,' 'please don't,' - all the classics, really. I couldn't really even blame it on Ashley Waters boys - though they were certainly a special breed of their own - as my mother had the same selective hearing.

       As a small mercy, by the time Rocky managed to remember how his face worked in order to manoeuvre his lips anywhere near mine, I had regained my bearings enough to slip from his grip and keep my footing unassisted.

       My heart fluttered in relief at what might have been another close call. I wanted my first kiss to be special, and after all my efforts to preserve it I would hate for Rocky to steal it away in a meaningless, drunken stupor.

       Avoid, deflect, flee. Whatever it took. It might have only been one kiss, a single, simple brush of lips, prefacing a lifetime of romantic moments, but in my mind it was something precious.

I didn't bother trying to smooth the waters as I fled from him this time. I imagined Rocky had enough liquor in his system to make the whole party a blank slate in his mind come morning anyway. Though as I made my escape, I was aware of Jay's dark brown eyes tracing my movements out of the room, clear and sober.

Where Rocky was generally... assertive... he was harmless enough. Jay, on the other hand, made me nothing but nervous. Boys like Rocky and Mike were relatively simple - they teased and flirted and sometimes tried to get a little handsy. I had learned to handle it. However, Jay's analytical gaze made me uneasy. It was like he was expecting something of me and forming expectations and judgements with every word or move I made. It was impossible to tell what he wanted from me, which made him impossible to navigate. I figured everyone wanted something, and it was always safer to know what that was before they asked for it, or simply tried to take it. It was like playing a game. If I made the right move, I got the response I wanted.