The Portal

Chapter 1. The Party

Chapter I. 

It all started when Asther Collins threw a party. Actually, it started when I went to Asther Collins' party. He was one of the popular guys, because, believe it or not, high school clichés still exist. Every Friday night, his parents would depart for some sort of 'Church Couple's Meeting' and leave him and his little brother Luke at home to fend for themselves in the weekend. 

 And although almost everyone knew that teenagers would congregate every Friday night and trash the Collins' household with beer kegs and ear-shattering music, no one spoke a word. It was like, the adults were completely oblivious to anything that happens. That, or they're pretending to keep a blind eye of some sort. Part of those blind mice, included Asther's parents. I don't know if it's because they don't spend enough time together, or if they even remember what their sons look like, but they just habitually pretend that no loud-ass party is happening whenever they left.

 "Come on, Charlotte! It would be fun!" Johnson whimpered like a puppy as we made our way to the next lesson. "When was the last time you've been to a party?" Sometimes, I wonder why on Earth I'm friends with a guy named after a brand of baby powder. But, then again, he's one of the few guys in school who aren't total jerks (most of the time).

 I sigh. "Oh, I don't know," The tone of my voice is flat and drips with mock wonder. "That time when you threw up in the bushes and I had to carry you -- covered in hurl-- and explain to your very angry mother while you drunkenly sing a song, which, I'm still pretty positive, was not english." Through the course of my sentence, Johnson's facial expression ranges from amusement, shock, disgust and a contorted combination of all three.

 I smile to myself; pleased with my explanation as I waited for a rebuttal. All I receive are furrowed brows and expectant silence. Johnson looked at me with his extremely annoying, 'And your point is?' look. I get an overwhelming urge to shake the living daylights out of him and scream that I didn't want to spend my Friday night carrying my vomit-covered friend to his house. Instead, I settle with a less violent approach.

"Why the hell do you want to go to that party anyway?"

 I must have struck a chord. The blush that crept on his cheeks made me want to do a victory dance and scream 'Bingo!' on the top of my lungs. There's only one reason behind Johnson's face as it turns into a shade that resembles a tomato.

"For a girl?" I ask, trying to mask the amusement/disgust in my voice.

 Johnson fidgeted as we made a halt in front of the classroom door. Just by observing, I can already tell that it was because of a girl. I bit my tongue. I hear a quiet mumble, like a hushed secret was being whispered. I looked at him expectantly, equally unmoving as he currently was. 

 The shrill sound of the bell reverberated loudly, in unison with the boisterous students walking down the school hallways. 

"Maybe." 

"Maybe...?"

"Well, are you going?" Something in his voice told me I should steer clear of the subject. 

 I eyed him. "Maybe." I mocked, copying his previous response before turning to enter my class. "Hurry, you'll be late for your class." I called to my shoulder before hearing a mumbled 'Shit' and the sound of something smacking the floor.

---

 So, hypothetically, say I did go to that stupid party and maybe I spent a good half an hour staring at some weird plant that was in the Collins' front door before getting enough courage to ring the bell. I could have, hypothetically if I did go, just busted the door open like everyone else but the guilt of breaking private property would have gnawed me alive.

 Okay, so I did go.

"Hell—" A loud, obnoxious, nerve grating sound half exclaimed. Upon registering my appearance, the welcome was cut short and the scary mega watt smile was turned into a slight scowl. "—oh. It's you." The girl sneered. I have absolutely no idea who she was, but I nod and enter the door.

 I can feel the pulsing of the floor from the loud music that echoed the whole house. My eyes scan the room, people are just about starting to get buzzed. It's only a few hours before it turns into a vomit/ make out fest and I don't quite feel like my stomach can handle that.

"Where the hell are you?" I mumble to myself as I look for the current source of my stress. My gaze is ripped from a couple dancing (extremely inappropriately) in the dance floor to a boisterous chant of 'drink, drink, drink, drink'  from the other side of the house. A tall boy in jeans and a brown leather jacket is being lifted by his feet, his hand supporting himself on a beer keg as he chugs down the alcohol. What. A. Moron.

Wait.

 I notice a prominent rip at the end of his jeans and remember the time when Johnson had the same rip by being chased by a bizarrely rabies hyped dog.

It might have taken longer to realise that the boy drinking beer upside down is not just a moron. He was my moron. Soon, the moron on the keg starts to go red and he suddenly drops on his feet with no grace.

"Hey, moron." Was my greeting to the red faced Johnson.

"You made it!" Was the (definitely) unsober reply I received.

"So where is she?" I asked.

"Who?"

"The girl you really like?"

 If anything, Johnson Moritz was definitely the world's most subtle guy. He undisguisedly pointed his finger towards a girl in the corner of the room.

Her eyes are slightly dilated and hazel, her hair is fair and gentle like her skin and she is sitting with the hostile girl that opened the door for me earlier. She could pass as an angel. I momentarily feel a bit of respect for Johnson to have such high standards. She looks at our direction briefly, her expression didn't seem to be clear but it was enough for me to consider as an invitation.

"Go ahead, then." I nudge Johnson.

"What?" He half slurred.

"Speak to her!" Before he has any time to react, I had pushed him through the crowds of intoxicated teenagers.

"Are you crazy? I can't! Jenny Jenkins is there..." He wasn't completely drunk, just enough to let me push him within breathing distance to the girl that he liked. I'm guessing Jenny Jenkins would be the girl who seemed to want to rip my head off from before. I still have no idea who she is.

 By the time we reach the coveted corner, Johnson was vibrating like a leaf next to me. "Stop shaking!" I murmured, clutching his elbow before shoving him in front of them.

 They were a group of girls; Jenny Jenkins, The girl Johnson likes (I then realised I had no idea what her name was— note to self: find out her name so I don't refer to her as 'The girl Johnson likes') and two other girls. If I felt like Jenny Jenkins had an extreme dislike of me before, it seems more prominent now as she glares straight at me with a scowl. She is not the reason I was there. Johnson is slowly slipping away so I grabbed his collar to keep him in place.

"Hello." I greet them politely, it seems out of place but I don't know how an appropriate approach would be. "My name is Charlotte and this," I pulled Johnson again "... is my friend Johnson Moritz."

 One of the other two, with flaming red hair smirks at us. Jenny Jenkins scoffs and rolls her eyes. The girl that Johnson likes (damn it) smiles brilliantly with her hazel eyes and her cheeks flushes prominently against her fair skin.

 The night had gone well so far. Better than I expected. So well that I almost forgot that I shouldn't be taking things going well for granted because after a few moments, three words had started what was the most bizarre thing that happened to me. Three words catalysed the overwhelming morph of my life from being completely normal to... not normal at all.