metulji - jan peteh

Liverpool

'And definitely no drugs.' my mum frowned, her brow knitting at even the thought of me getting involved in anything sketchy. My dad joined her, stood slightly behind but listening intently, his hands practically glued onto his hips as he tried not to interject. I could see sweat forming on his forehead - he was much less eager to let me go on a night out than my mum had been. As his youngest child, me losing my innocence was at the bottom of his list, his lowest priority. I was still his little girl as far as he was concerned, even though I was now in my twenties, and certainly not short either. Accepting I was growing up meant accepting he was getting old, a fate he was very reluctant to accept as his own, and for now I would let him deny both.

Of course, this wasnt actually my first time going to the bar. Turns out that one of my old friends was great at sneaking people out, and had crafted the perfect excuses to keep me out of trouble with my parents if questions were raised. She forged my location and photoshopped a very convincing set of photos to show to my parents when they asked about the sleepover. We'd had a great night, but I hadn't been out since; I'd felt too guilty about lying and felt like keeping my head for at least a little bit longer. Again, strict dad, not-willing-to-disagree mum, standing together in front of my door to freedom.

'Don't let your drink out of sight, either.' my dad finally inputted, feeling the gap in conversation. This was at least the third reiteration of the rules on his part. He'd been preparing me for this moment since I was 15, and went to my first party. Now his words felt like clockwork, and I didn't even have to listen to know what came next. Except from when what came next was the doorbell. I jumped a little, the switch from dad's usual words startling me slightly.

It only took a few seconds for Sanjay and Ocean to burst into the living room, practically barreling into me and squeezing me into a tight hug.

'The taxi's outside, it's time to go!' shouted Ocean, finally releasing me, but still standing close enough for her loud voice to provoke an involuntary jolt . Her dark curls bounced around on her shoulders as she jumped up and down.

Sanjay lurked next to her and looked, as usual, full of anticipation, with that daring glint in his eye that suggested that he would be going further than a few drinks tonight. He'd always been one to get into trouble, and my parents viewed him as a bad influence, but he was the most faithful person in my life and would never force anyone else into his bad habits. He kept himself to himself and always knew when to stop. In this moment, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly, grinning at me, evidently just as happy as I was that I could finally leave the comfort of my neighbourhood and live a little.

Swiftly saying goodbye to my parents, Ocean even tightly hugging my mum, we hurried outside and into the taxi. The air in the car swirled with nervous sweat and excitement, partially from me. We travelled well into the Liverpool town centre, before exiting the vehicle and stepping into the first bar we saw.

'Let's stick together and promise to mind each others' drinks if we need it.' mumbled Ocean, clearly more focused on the sudden introduction of the energetic atmosphere, and the fact that the walls and floor pulsed with every beat of sound. I could see Sanjay nodding from the corner of my eye, but to be honest, I was already too absorbed to respond myself. Before I could even grab Ocean's hand, I was lost in the crowd, which rippled like a wave as I waded my way through. A piña colada was on my mind; I'd find the others later, when the bar would be busier and the dance floor less packed.

I was able to grab my drink pretty quickly, the obviously experienced bartenders probably sick of making my favourite cocktail, and I quickly half-walk-half-ran around the side of the room to the tables, where I could see Sanjay's huge mop of hair moving as he shook his head in disbelief at whatever Ocean was saying. Those two loved to gossip, and I was not about to miss out on whatever news was being shared.

What I didn't notice was that a not-very-obvious corridor met the larger room just before our table, and I hurtled into someone as they rounded the corner. Straight into them. The piña colada smattered my dress, and despite it not even touching him, I still felt awfully guilty not looking where I was going and causing him problems.

'Woah, I'm sorry about that.' he grumbled, clearly not too thrilled that I'd bumped into him. He took a step back and I met his mysterious brown eyes, which were either dark with anger or anticipation. His eyebrows were raised, probably expecting at least an apology, as he swiped his thick, shoulder-length hair out of his face, where it had landed after we'd collided. Given how hard the slam was, I definitely owed him far more than a simple sorry.

Yet, even despite the nature of the situation, it would be a lie to say it wasn't the most attractive thing I've ever experienced.

And, of course, I just stood there, practically unable to move, frozen with anxiety.

I think he picked up on my fear, because his expression quickly changed, replaced with one of deep pensiveness and thought. It was almost like he didn't want to hurt me, despite me being the one who'd caused the issue in the first place. He took the now half-empty piña colada from my grasp, and offered me his hand. 'Come on, I'll help you clean yourself up.'

Well, that was one of dad's rules out of the window immediately. I was letting a stranger lead me around a nightclub, something which could potentially end insanely badly. I'd never be allowed out again - that was if I survived the situation, and then the wrath of my parents when they found out about it.

I was so embarrassed - he must've thought I was drunk, or worse, considering the fact I'd just smashed straight into him and not even uttered a word. I took his hand and tried to get to apologising, even though I owed him so much more than that for what he was doing.

'I'm so sorry, I really didn't see you there, I'm really grateful for this, I-'

'Don't worry about it, everything's fine.' He comforted, but I couldn't tell if that was a genuine sentence. His voice did seem slightly more relaxed than before, but, to be completely fair, I had just absolutely crashed into him last time he had spoken.

We reached a disabled toilet, which was open, and he went inside, coming back out with a fair amount of toilet roll.

'Here.' he offered gruffly, clearly struggling to maintain the social contact. If he was an introvert, why did he decide to help me? I tried not to think too much about that, and just focused on ensuring that my new dress was not ruined within five minutes. That thought absorbed me for at least a few seconds, distracting me from my dread.

I gently wiped myself down, bearing the weight of his eyes on me as I did so. I could feel his gaze following each of my hand movements. When I finally deemed that this was the best it was going to get without the help of a washing machine, the tension relaxed, both for him and for me, and I headed into the bathroom to dispose of the paper. Emerging from the toilet again, I noticed he was still stood there. Was he expecting something from me?

'You're okay now?' he asked, a sense of warmth breaching his low voice slightly. It was one of those things that only I would notice - it was such a small tinge that maybe not even he knew it had happened.

'Yes, I think I am.' I started. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome' he responded briskly, suddenly cool in tone again, before disappearing back down the corridor, I assumed to get back to his friends or whoever he was with. I was still confused as to why he had done that, why he waited for me to confirm I was fine, why the touch of his hand on mine had given me so many butterflies.

I decided that some questions are better left unanswered.