She Ain't From Around Here

22 | parties & shenanigans

Playing with Dingo? Elaine hated animals.

Ashley was lying.

She wrapped her hands around her body and didn't meet my gaze; suddenly having a keen interest in the grass below us.

"Ashley-Anne, tell me the truth, where is Elaine?" I said, deferentially.

On cue, the other side of the line answered. "Clint?"

"Hey, Doris." I greeted before I asked. "Is Elaine with you?"

There was a small, hesitant pause. "No...She went over to Ashley-Anne's house. She isn't with you? Is everything alright?"

"Don't worry about it, Doris," I told her before I cut the call.

When I turned to face Ashley, I growled. "Explain."

Even from the little light source, I could see that her fair skin had turned pale and she squirmed under my gaze.

"She wanted to know Johnny's address to go to his party and she kept bugging me about it so I gave it up." She prattled. "I don't even know how she knew about Johnny. She just showed up at my house and started asking me questions."

"Why would you do that? Ashley. You know she's not allowed near alcohol." I howled.

"Why do you care?" She cried.

"If anything happens to her, you'll be at fault." I pointed my finger at her in accusation.

We rushed out of the small church building and dashed to my house.

Thankfully it wasn't too far from the house and within a few minutes, I had arrived at the garage and entered my car.

Ashley was about to get in the front seat when I stopped her. "No. You stay here."

"But—"

"STAY." I insisted with a hard glare.

She took a step back and I revved the engine and sped off.

***

Johnny was a reckless idiot with who I used to be friends.

I distanced myself when I realized all the guy cared about was parties, girls, and fast cars. When he was sober enough, he was a good guy.

Half of the time, he was an asshole.

I arrived at the big house.
Loud, ear-piercing music blasted through the house.

People hollering and chattering amongst themselves and couples making out, people throwing up.

Broken glass bottles lined the floor like grass.

I walked into the house, pushing my way through the thick crowd.
Scrunching my nose because of the smell of sweat and alcohol that filled the air.

It was too loud and the smoke of cigarettes clouded my thoughts—I could barely think.

The crowd, singing along with songs I didn't recognize and that's when I heard a familiar yell. It was audible enough to be heard through the loud music.

"Elaine!" I howled, pushing through the bodies of drunken people.

The yell came again and I was pretty sure it was hers.

"Elaine!" I called out again, following the direction of the voice until I saw her.

I let a breath of relief when I saw that she was okay

She didn't seem to notice me but was focused on an array of shots of a clear liquid that lay on a table.

About ten to fifteen shots.

A large group of people surrounded her, chanting and cheering her on.

A guy with familiar disheveled blonde hair yelled.

Johnny.

He held a timer in his hand. "Okay, Els, baby, ready?"

"Ready!" Elaine said determination etched on her face.

She was going to get herself killed.
But I couldn't help get allured by that wild look in her eyes.

"Three, Two, One, DRINK!."
The crowd chanting her name, and
in seconds, she quickly devoured all the shots of alcohol as if it were water.

She finished the last shot and pumped her fists in the air in triumph and the crowd jeered even more.
"¡Soy la perra sangrienta!"

"TWENTY SECONDS!" Johnny yelled, a vein in his neck bulging out.
The crowd roared.

It was then, her dark eyes met mine and recognition flashed through them.
"Crrint." She slurred as she staggered towards me. "You made it. You missed like, half of the fun, though."

"But I know something much more fun we could do." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

I nearly choked on my saliva, but I shook my head to rid myself of her words.

"You're not supposed to be here Elaine," I warned. "You have to go home."

"No, no mi muerto. I am staying here." She said, stubbornly. The foreign words I assumed were Spanish. "Don't be such a pussy crint. I have a pussy but I am not a pussy."

god. I thought in exaggeration.

Elaine's dark hair was plastered on her face due to the sweat. Her eyes were red and her body reeked of the alcohol.

"I'm taking you home." I insisted, grabbing her wrist.

"I am my own woman! I go when I go when I—"

She was cut off when I hoisted her body up and over my shoulder.

"tu gilipollas. You fucking arse. How dare you!"

I noticed she had a habit of casually spitting out profanities like it were her second language and it didn't help she was drunk.

I made it to the truck and placed her on the passenger's seat, buckling her seatbelt for her.

She pulled out her middle finger and I let a small chuckle.

I walked to the other side of the car and entered it.

"I hate you." She spat.

"I know." I cracked up a smile.

***

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Song: why do you call me when you're high by arctic monkeys.