Chapter 19

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Calla:

I give up, I thought. Groaning in defeat as I collapsed back on my bed in my underwear, the contents of my closet entirely on the floor. I didn't know what to wear.


I've never been to a PC–whatever carnival before, let alone a date and I never usually have this problem. I just chuck on what I feel like. I'm not a biggest fan of make-up and I rarely wore it. Clothing had never been a priority before either. I like what I like. I hate what I hate. I wear what I wear. There never was a need to be totally up to style at my old school and my fetish for vintage things left my wardrobe kind of outdated for Mitchie's liking. Thinking of her, I looked down at my wrist and checked my watch, she was meant to be here in five minutes, and then we had an hour before the boys would pick us up for this carnival thingy, and I still wasn't dressed.

I don't even know how I convinced Mum to let me go tonight. Maybe she was just happy to see that I had friends. Somehow she had heard of this mystery event.

"Yes, it's plastered all over the hospital notice boards. Some country fair or something. It's put on by the Police Community Youth Centre," She took pleasure in telling me last night.

"Calla!" My name being called interrupted my thought process. "You're friend is here."

"No!" I cursed under my breath, scrambling for the outfit I had decided against earlier and shovelling all the debris clothing into the wardrobe.

"Calla?" I heard Mitchie's voice accompanied with a knock on the door.

"Yep come in," I called as I straightened my knee length navy taffeta skirt.

"Hey, your house is so cute!" Mitchie sang as she took in my room, "And your room, is awesome!" She turned to me smiling.

She looked so different with straightened hair. It hung just below her chin, in a very Victoria Beckam style, her sparkly blue glasses were absent and her hazel eyes were stunningly surrounded by glittery perfect makeup. She looked as if she had no trouble choosing an outfit; she stood there as if she was born in two inch espadrilles, a short lilac silk kaftan, a chunky emerald necklace and peacock feather earrings.

"So?" She helped herself to a seat at my vanity, where my small amount of makeup sat.

"Well, I may need your help," I began. Mitchie looked at me through the mirror.

"Yes you do," Was her reply. I was starting to regret even opening my mouth at the sight of that determined look in her eyes.

Half an hour later of my hair being tugged, and pulled and pinned into place, my face scrubbed and lined, I stared into the mirror in disbelief.

"What did you do to me?" I asked. Turning my face side to side.

I permitted her to doing my make-up but only on one condition; that it was light and as I looked into the mirror, I could see that it was way better than what I could ever have done. It was simple, pink cheeks, pearl eyes, and black cat eyeliner. Finish it off with bright red lips to go with my red and white top. My hair was simply curled and flicked back from my face in a way I had never worn it before, accompanied with a red flower. She picked out my red patent Mary Janes and white lacy socks that only made me an inch taller.

"Don't you think, I'm a bit over dressed?" I mumbled feeling uncomfortable looking so done up.

"Of course not, you'll be fine," Mitchie dismissed me just as we heard a car pull up the gravel driveway outside.

"They're here!" She squealed suddenly over excited, as she ran down to greet them.

I took one last look in the mirror at my reflection, nervous butterflies churning in my stomach before following her.

***

After a seemingly endless awkward car ride and equally uncomfortable dinner at the dining tent, with Sam and Mitchie laughing and flirting and Daniel trying to make unsuccessful small talk with me, we moved on to the stage area, where the showcase was setting up.

The carnival was in the town showgrounds. A large expanse of field, with stables bordering the property. Tall flame torches surrounded the stage area, and the seating was mainly hay bales with rugs thrown over them. The stage area was crowded with lots of younger teens chilling on the grass before the stage. The older kids were hanging around the drinking vendors, and the adults had surrendered to the four X tent further back from the action. It was a very community based atmosphere, with some young families swaying to the children's entertainment that was just finishing up on stage.

"This is awesome!" Mitchie cried, squeezing my hand.

"Do you want a drink?" Sam asked Mitchie, pointing towards a drinks cart. She nodded taking his hand and following him through the crowd. I stood next to Daniel awkwardly, he motioned to follow them and I nodded, walking into the mass of people. Daniel took my hand as he navigated through the crowd. His palm was smooth and warm, and the touch made me feel weird in the stomach.

The vendor carts were surrounded by an absolute mess. Red plastic cups covered the tables and overflowed from the garbage bins, there was so many I didn't know which ones were full or empty. Sam's hand was already occupied with a beer and Mitchie was holding a can of mixing spirits and soft drink. The vendor was in a police uniform but he seemed too busy serving people to double check whether Sam was buying a drink for someone underage. There was a portable fridge van behind the service desk and when the barman opened it I scanned the shelves inside. It was absolutely full with alcohol. Beers, brightly coloured alco-pops, high energy drinks, a few bottles of spirits and lastly the only normal drink there was coke. Daniel payed for a beer and a red alco-pop for me.

I accepted the drink politely; after all he had paid it. I'd never had an alco-pop before, and the alcohol I had consumed was only a glass of wine or champagne in the comfort of my own home and with my parents. As I took a sip the sickly sweetness hit my tongue I unconsciously scrunched my nose but swallowed nonetheless. I didn't enjoy the burning it left at the back of my throat. But Daniel was watching me and I didn't want to seem rude so I shot him a polite smile.

We followed Mitchie and Sam back to the stage and the performances had already advanced to the local talent. I think they had already gone through a few acts while we were trying to be serviced with drinks. We were lucky to find an spare hay bale and I rushed to take the spare seat next to Mitchie and Sam, leaving Daniel no place but the ground beside me.

"Look who it is!" Mitchie shouted in my ear over the music, pointing to the stage. A band was playing mid song; the source of all the noise.

I noticed the aboriginal drummer and the flame haired bass guitarist as the two boys from earlier in the week. Tyson's friends. The lead singer was skinny and looked older than the other two, his hair was short – almost crew cut with scrubby stubble lining his face to accompany. The girl singing next to him was shockingly beautiful, her hair was a deep purple – almost black in colour and her silky voice matched perfectly with the lead's smooth tone. I couldn't see the guitarist on this angle, he stood behind the stunning violet head, and I craned my neck to see over the heads– the band was obviously popular, with a little crowd of teens dancing closer towards the stage.

My mouth dropped when I saw Tyson rocking out with a blue electric guitar, his attractive face concentrating as he went crazy musician on the crowd. His fingers were flying across the strings and dancing across the chords, the sound emanating out of a big amp. He was really good.

A couple songs passed and the band's music continued. The genre varied from a hard rock to a softer alternative tone, but every single song played had a party feel to it. It was kind of a mixture of pop, dance and indie.

They had just finished a very catchy original song that had me tapping my foot and grinning like an idiot when the lead singer slurred, "Thank you!"

I couldn't tell if he was drunk, intoxicated or just out of breath when he started to teeter on his feet. The purple haired girl grabbed his forearm just before he fell off the stage, she looked back at Tyson, shooting him a suggestive smile, hinting at an inside joke, before she wrapped her arm around the lead singer's waist and supported him off the stage.

"Well, I think Sean's done for the night," Tyson's voice filtered throughout the room, followed by a chorus of laughs.

"Thank you everyone for having us tonight, we are Flat Line, and it look's like, uh – I'm on my own now," His voice told joke and a few people laughed, but I could tell by the way his hand gripped the neck of his guitar tightly and the odd tone in his voice that I've never heard before, that he was slightly nervous. I unconsciously smirked at the thought, where's his Dutch courage now?

Tyson's eyes swept the crowd and miraculously found mine, he nodded to me, a small smile on his lips before the drums started beating again and the music picked up. His eyes were still on mine and in an effort to avert them I looked down at my drink, that I knew I wouldn't finish.

The song wasn't particularly fast, but it had a good rhythm and a catchy melody. It took me a while to recognise it as a popular chart topper as it didn't have the techno effects. I quickly learned I liked it a lot more without them. When Tyson's voice came in and sang across the room I couldn't help but let my mouth fall open just a little bit. The other lead singer's voice was entirely different to Tyson's.

His being smooth as syrup, cleaner and more pop conditioned whereas Tyson's voice was rougher, less restricted, more heartfelt, more drenched with emotions. The teen girls surrounding the stage suddenly became hyper aware of the new singer, he was certainly turning heads.

The smouldering looks he was getting gave him a new confidence and his performance improved, really getting into the song. By the end of it he had a whole crowd of teenage girls wooing and cheering at his feet. He sang the last note and the crowd erupted in a new applause. He grinned a heartbreaker smile and looked across the sea of people at me, giving me a wave. I couldn't help smiling back, enjoying the funny feeling of my heart beating fast.

***

It was long since the bands had finished and popular chart toppers blasted out of the large speakers. The change in music certainly didn't stop the dancers and they carried on bopping and grinding at the front of the stage. The time that had passed did, however allow Daniel to chug down the beers and our conversations were becoming far more relaxed, well on his part at least. Mitchie and Sam were across the crowd eating each other's faces and I was stuck sitting next to an increasingly confident alcohol filled boy.

Along with his conversations his physical contact had also increased, first it was just an arm around my shoulders, but then it progressed to a hand on my knee. When he moved to cup the back of my knee like someone would do an elbow, I started to get anxious. Especially when his hand started travelling upwards. When his palm hit the edge of my skirt I jumped up, having enough.

He looked at me innocently like I had overreacted to him telling me the weather.

"I'm just going to go and get another drink," I made an excuse and disappeared into the mass of people before he followed me. Trying to shake of the disgusted feeling I walked around the stalls and perused the farm wares. The music was quieter around the back of the stage where all the markets were.

I stepped around a little alleyway created by the stage and the backs of some of the stalls and had walked too far to hide from what I suddenly became affronted with. Tyson standing, laughing with one hand around the waist of the purple haired singer's and the other passing money to some dark figure with their back to me. The figure was wearing a hoodie and they passed Tyson a packed of what, I couldn't guess, but I knew it wasn't legal.

I scolded myself for not being more aware of my surroundings. Now it was too late for me to hide and I just froze. I watched them converse with the hoodie figure, completely at home with the illegal substance, that would undoubtedly get them sent to prison or give them both a record at the very least, just previously traded. Tyson gripped the figures hand in a hand shake before he disappeared the opposite way. When Tyson and the singer started to get frisky and by that I mean Tyson attacking the gorgeous violet girl's neck, I was ready to get out of there. Hopefully before they spotted me.

I turned ready to run out but I bumped straight into Daniel. He looked surprised but totally happy to see me. "Hey babe! There you are," he almost shouted.

Tyson and the violet chick looked up from their make-out session. Tyson raised his eyebrows at me and the way Daniel's hand snaked around my waist casually. I winced unconsciously at his touch.

"Well hello there Sonny," Daniel said slyly. "What's up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he said. His eyes didn't move from mine. I felt heat rise in my cheeks and was suddenly intent to get out of there. I stepped away from Daniels grasp. He let his hand drop and stood there beside me awkwardly.

I eyed Tyson's enclosed fist, holding the illegal substance of whatever. He followed my gaze and looked down at his hand. His eyes met mine again, this time they were shadowed by a frown.

"Um I'm just gonna go," I said awkwardly, feeling everyone's eyes on me. I hurried past the edge of the stage, brushing past Daniel as I went. I felt sick as I pushed past all of the people and solace in the light of the seating area in front of the stage. Only a few people sat out on the hay bales, and the dancing had manly been forgotten, but the music blared on.

I took a few heavy breaths steadying myself against a light post. I pulled my phone out of my bag and searched through my phonebook until I found Mum's picture representing her number. She would be just getting home from her shift, I'm sure she could come and get me on her way home and if not I could just walk. We were only a few streets over from my house anyway.  

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