Chapter Eight - Damon
Who’d have thought she’d say yes?
Not me, that’s for sure. But here she is, standing in the doorway, chatting to Mum politely.
I step out of the shadows, glancing at her –
Wow. She’s looks…well, really pretty. Her hair falls past her shoulders in soft, blonde, natural ringlets, slightly windswept. She isn’t wearing any makeup, but her cheeks are flushed, probably because she walked here. She’s wearing a lovely green sleeveless dress with black converse – an odd mix, but it looks good on her. A denim jacket is spread across her shoulders.
Dammit! Don’t think about her like that, Damon!
I won’t be one of those guys who likes a girl ‘cause of how she looks. I decided I didn’t like her, I won’t change it because of a pretty dress and a nice hair do.
“Well, take care, Sophie,” Mum smiles at her warmly.
I scowl at her. “Let’s just go,” I mutter, grabbing her wrist roughly and yanking her after me, slamming the door in Mum’s face.
“Oi!” Sophie snaps. “You could at least be nice! I mean, it’s you who invited me, and not the other way round!”
I hmph irritably. Yeah, sure. You practically invited yourself.
She breathes out slowly. “You’re so annoying.”
We walk along the street in silence.
I think about the upcoming party at Ricky’s place. I wasn’t going to go at first, but Paul really wanted me to come. He said it would help me break out of my shell – ha. But he got Maddie to do puppy dog eyes on me, which always works. Mum was well pleased that I was going. Normally, she hates us going to parties, but she’s just so happy I’m doing stuff normal teenagers do.
So I asked the only person who might just come.
“Is this it?” Sophie asks, looking up at the big house in front of us.
Music booms, making the world vibrate. Terrible music, too – Kesha, or something like that.
I nod. “Let’s go.”
I pull her after me up to the door, and thud on it.
A guy appears, opening it. He’s holding a plastic cup of beer in one hand and a hot blonde chick in the other.
“Hey, who invited the alien?” the girl giggles.
“Oi, shut up,” Ricky laughs. “Hey, dude, ‘sup? This your bitch?” he adds, yelling over the music.
He nods at Sophie.
I feel anger surge up inside me, although I don’t know why.
“Nah, mate, just a friend.”
“Well, Damon my man, come on in!”
As soon as we get inside, a guy offers us some beer. I grab a cup, but when Sophie goes in for some, I stop her.
“No way,” I yell.
“What?” she shouts back. “Why not? You’re having some!”
“I’m a guy. I’m not taking care of an underage drinker. You’re the first girl my mum likes.”
Hang on. The way I said that made her sound like my girlfriend! No, no, no. No way.
She pouts. “I hate you,” she says sulkily.
I notice some big beefy blokes with loads of tattoos and piercings leering at the short blonde in front of me, and something makes me wrap an arm round her shoulders protectively. She’s just so small and vulnerable.
“Why are you doing that?” she asks, pulling away.
“No reason, midget,” I reply gruffly, refusing to let her move.
I walk her into the crowded living room, full of people dancing around.
I feel something weird on my ribs, a strange, soft poking sort of – oh.
“Stop it,” I order, pulling away slightly but not releasing my grip on Sophie.
She grins. “What? Big boy Damon a bit…ticklish?”
I sigh. “Just stop, Sophie.”
She goes pink. I frown. What did I say to make her blush?
She goes even pinker.
Oh no…it can’t be! Oh, damn, I think this girl likes me!
No, all it was was a blush. It doesn’t mean anything. Not a thing.
I clear my throat. “So, you like dancing?” I ask, sitting down on the sofa with her and looking pointedly in the other direction.
I feel her shrug. “Not really. I’ve sort of got two left feet. You?”
“Nah. Dancing is lame.”
For some reason, I feel happy that she doesn’t like dancing either. I run my hand through my hair subtly, checking it’s all in place.
I’ve just realised how stupid it must look, all tousled and ruffled. I bet Sophie’s laughing her butt off at it. Ugh, I should’ve listened to Paul and chosen a more stylish hairstyle.
|Brittany Snow||as Sophie|