FIRST KISS (High School Romance - FYI - In need of redrafting/rewrites)

Chapter Nine

"This party is amazing, thanks for bringing me!"

Andrew's great hulking height reached down over me to grab the last slice of pizza.

Damn it. He was following me. Luke and Anna would have to pay for putting me through this later.

"No problem," I mumbled.

"You've got such a great voice," he said, smiling.

I felt guilty at the irritation he incited in me. He was a lovely guy, but I just didn't have time for him right now. I had other, more important, things to think about.

"You said that before. But thanks. So do you."

"No I really mean it. You should sing in public more often."

"Performing isn't really my thing. It doesn't come naturally."

Andrew was definitely swaying a bit. He was drunk. Right then he slopped a bit of punch over his shirt.

"Oops," he said, looking down at it.

"Should you be drinking so much?" I asked.

"I've never drunk anything before."

Oh god. That was not good. I had an alcohol virgin on my hands, who had clearly already had more than was good for him.

"I think you should sit down. Come here," I said, leading him to the sofa and letting him slump onto it. "I'll go get you some water."

By the time I had pushed my way back into the kitchen I had almost forgotten entirely about Andrew.

And when I saw Dixon, one of the football team, kneeling bare-chested on the tiles I forgot about him entirely.

His head was back and he had a long funnel in his mouth, and people were pressing in on all sides, forming a circle round him. I had to push my way to the front to see what was going on.

Taylor was standing over him laughing, her lips all pink and glossy. She looked like a girl from a bubblegum ad. She was holding the funnel in one hand and pouring beer into it with the other. Dixon was swallowing as much as he could but his gullet evidently couldn't open fast enough so a lot of it was splashing down his chest.

The guys were shouting and the girls were squealing and clapping. When Dixon had finished, he stood up to great applause and raised his arms above his head in a sort of victory dance. He grabbed his shirt back from one of the cheerleaders and put it back on.

"Bryce, Bryce, Bryce," came the chant.

My heart sank. They wanted Bryce to do it, and that was such an un-Bryce thing to do. Bryce never really drank, especially not if he were driving.

I searched the crowd for him, finally spotting him off to one side where he was chatting to a teammate. He hadn't even been watching Dixon and the funnel.

On hearing his name he looked over, momentarily confused. When he realised what was going on he pulled a funny upturned smile.

"No way guys. I'm not doing a funnel."

At his protestation the calls of his name became louder and louder, until it was impossible to ignore. Taylor was waving the funnel at him, a can of beer in her other hand.

"Come on Babe," she said. "Don't let Dixon show you up!"

Everyone jeered and suddenly Bryce was being pulled and pushed to the centre of the room. I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't happy about it, but by this point there was no other option. He was Bryce Williams, and now he had to take off his shirt and kneel on the floor and funnel as much beer as he possibly could. Preferably more than Dixon had done.