Tick Tock - Time's Running Out

Tick Tock (10)

“Another!”

“Three, two, one!”

Another, and another, and another.  I lost count of how many shots I had taken, but of one thing I was certain.  I was legless.  Clutching the bar to hold myself up, I grinned and leered at the girls around me, most of whom were sluts.

“Darren!” I heard an innocent voice say.

“Jamie!” I slurred, staggering over to her.  “Jaaaaammieee!”  I laughed loudly.  “Have a shot, eh?”

“How many have you had?” she asked.  I merely shrugged and poured two more shots.  She examined me before saying, “I don’t think you should have another one, Darren.”

“Why not?” I moaned.

“You’re drunk,” she giggled.  I pushed the shot towards her and she downed it.  Screwing up her face, she took the other shot out of my hand and downed that too.

“What was that for?” I complained.  “Now I have to pour another!”

“No you don’t,” she said, slurring her words slightly.  “Come dance with me instead!”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me on to the dance floor.  Then she threw her arms around my neck and I placed my hands on her waist and we started moving to the beat.  She was too far away from me – there was too much distance between us – so I wrapped my arms further around her waist and pulled her in closer.  She looked up at me, puzzlement evident on her face.  I smiled at her, and she smiled back, shaking her head.

I made a silent promise to stay resolute and keep my hands no lower than her waist, but I was drunk, and couldn’t help it.  My hand slid down until it was on her bum, and I pulled her even closer, if that were possible.  She looked at me, confusion etched in every part of her face, a frown on her delicate forehead.  No bloody wonder: I was giving off signals that I’m not sure Robbie would be too happy about.

“Sorry,” I slurred, sliding my hand up to her waist again.

“No - it’s not – I – I have to go,” Jamie said, looking at me, still with a frown on her face.

“Have to go?  What do you mean?” I laughed.  “We’re all going home together!  You don’t have to go until I go!”

“I mean I have to get away from you.”

Hurt bubbled in my chest like nothing I had ever felt before.  My heart was pounding like it was fit to burst, and my puzzlement and hurt was evident on my face.

“I’m confused,” Jamie whispered quietly, and I only just heard her over the music.  “I’m sorry.”

Then she turned and ran off the dance floor and away from me.  She ran right past Simon, who turned to look at who Jamie had been running away from.  When his eyes found mine, he smirked.

Suddenly, I hated him.  If he thought he could just strut in and take Jamie away from me, he had another thing coming.

I marched up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest – hard.

“Listen,” I said menacingly.  “I don’t care what you want, Jamie isn’t going to be with you, so you can get that out of your head.”

“Jealous, are we?” Simon mocked, smirking.

“Nothing to be jealous of.  Just protective, like an older brother.  Jamie is like my little sister, and I won’t let anything, or anyone, hurt her.  To be honest, you’re top of my list for hurting her.  So just back off.”

“I can see it in your eyes, Darren,” Simon said before walking away from me.  Why were so many people doing that to me?  I was the one who always walked away, not the other way around!  What did he think he was playing at?

I walked into the garden and kicked a tree.  It hurt, so I swore loudly.  I flopped on to the dry grass and leant against the tree.

I was so confused.  Emotions were battling inside of me like a big balloon, threatening to burst.  I didn’t know I could feel this much!  I was confused over the thoughts I was having about Jamie, I was guilty because of these thoughts as Jamie was my best friend’s younger sister, I was angry because of Simon trying to muscle in on Jamie, I was sad because I felt like my time with Olivia was coming to a close because I didn’t feel anything for her.  But I did want to put these feelings away.  And I had an idea how to do it.

I stood up quickly, and my vision went dizzy.  I had had way too much alcohol.  I grabbed the tree for support while my vision came back.  Then I marched into Olivia’s house and found her drowning her sorrows in a bottle of Smirnoff.

“C’mere,” I said and roughly shoved my lips against hers, pushing the bottle out of her hands, where it smashed on the floor, sending Smirnoff and glass everywhere.  However, we didn’t care.  I grabbed Olivia’s hand and dragged her up the stairs and into her bedroom.  I threw her on to the bed and clambered on top of her.

“I don’t care anymore,” I told her.  “I don’t care how many STDs you have.  As long as I use a condom, I’ll shag you until the cows come home.”