Hope Begins to Fade

Seeing Red

In the end my plans for the evening revolved around a giant bag of plain salted chips, chocolate that my mother sent me and binge watching Riverdale.

At first I'd felt bad about hoarding chocolate in my room but then I'd realised that Matt and the boys had grown up with American chocolate and didn't realise that there was something seriously wrong with it. I'd once Googled 'why does American chocolate taste like vomit?' and had been delighted with the results. I was obviously not the only one that was disgusted by the chocolate brands that brought a nostalgic gleam to my dad's eyes.

As for my uncontrollable binge watching of Riverdale there was only one way I could explain my compulsion. I found something very appealing about a show where hot redheads ruled the teenaged world of their small town. For someone who'd grown up being known not so infrequently as a ranga or as Fanta-pants the fact that the redheads were the top dogs was indescribably delicious. So I had sprawled out across my ridiculously huge bed with a bottle of Prosecco and my favourite snack foods and gloried in the raging teenage bitch that was Cheryl Blossom. Of course if that kind of stuff had been going on at a school that I'd taught at I may have had to raise some concerns regarding bullying not to mention the inappropriate student teacher relations.

The house was silent and I was floating in the pleasant cloud of my alcohol, carbohydrate and sugar buzz when I heard the front door open. I'd finally had enough imagining myself as a kinder, gentler version Cheryl and stopped watching deciding that I'd save some indulgence for another day. The sound of voices carried through to me and I realised that I must have left both the door to my tiny foyer as well as the door through to the main house open.

I recognised Matt's voice but there was a female voice that was completely unfamiliar and a couple of male voices neither of which I knew but both tugged at a vague thread of memory. I slid out from under the covers thinking that I'd just shut the doors so I didn't have to listen to what was likely to be their ongoing party. I glanced down at myself noting that I was decently covered in a pair of grey sleep shorts covered in white and navy hearts and an old Fear of the Gods t-shirt that Ryan had sent me that was so worn and soft that it was my favourite thing to sleep or lounge in. Not that I was worried that they'd see me or anything, my intention really was just to sneakily shut the door.

Of course nothing in life is ever that easy. I'd tiptoed with admirable stealth to what was essentially my front door but paused, frozen, at the sight of two guys arguing in whisper yells in my doorway. Their eyes opened wide in surprise.

"Hi," I squeaked, "Don't mind me, I just realised I hadn't shut my door."

"Holy shit Chips is that you?" one of the guys exclaimed. I took a closer look and realised it was one of Ryan's former bandmates, Taipan. He'd actually been there the night I'd thrown myself at Ryan and vomited in the sand dunes.

"Hey, good to see you again," the guy who'd been arguing with Tai spoke up. I blinked at him a couple of times before I realised that it was Henry the surfer guy from the beach.

"Taipan, Henry," I nodded wishing that I'd dragged on a pair of pants over my sleep shorts. I was feeling a little over exposed and my cheeks began to heat when I realised that Taipan's own face was reflected back at him from my t-shirt.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Taipan asked his brow furrowed in confusion. It wasn't exactly a surprising question, it had been over ten years since I'd seen the guy on the Gold Coast and to be honest I was surprised he'd even remembered me.

"I live here." I answered baldly. Two in the morning was not the time to get into an exhaustive discussion on how my life had gone since I was sixteen years old. "What are you two doing here?"