Starlet Scarlett

Chapter 11 - '...and you're banging the dead guy's son.'

"I'm going out tonight," I tell her and she looks deeply into my eyes - or as deeply a four year old can look into someone's eyes anyway.

"Can I come?" she asks sweetly and I swallow slowly, licking my lips a little.

"No, honey," I say sadly. "It's almost your bedtime. I'll see you later."

*

"So you're genuinely not telling us what's happened?" Jess asks as we make our way inside the house which is hosting the party. Being the people we are, it's not hard for us to find parties. We have connections, I suppose you could call them.

"Nope," I say, swinging my hips a little more when we reach the door. "Everything's off-limits until I'm super pissed and have made out with at least three guys."

"Scarlett, you can't keep doing this," Jess groans. "Drinking and fucking away your problems isn't going to work forever."

"But it's working now, 'kay?" I snap and Jess rolls her eyes. "I just seriously want to forget this past week and a bit and maybe I'll talk about it tomorrow, I don't know." Music booms from the house and I sigh. "Okay, c'mon."

An hour and a half later I have consumed an unhealthy amount of alcohol and my balance is a little wobbly, but my confidence is through the roof. I have some random guys arm wound loosely around my waist, with my own hands grasped tightly around the back of his neck as we kiss in the hallway. It's not romantic, it's not loving, fuck it's not even nice, however I'm past caring. At least this guy wants to kiss me.

I bet he'd answer my calls.

"Scarlett," a voice says behind me and they grab my arm and break me away from the guy I'm kissing. I pout at him and wink. Turning around, I see the owner of the voice to be Charlie.

"Yeah?" I ask innocently.

"I just took Jess home, she has stuff on tomorrow so couldn't stay too late," she explains and I nod.

"Okay, cool, whatever," I say and Charlie rolls her eyes.

"Look I know you're pissed at something, probably to do with Camer-"

"Don't even say his name, I swear to God."

"Fine," she sighs. "But can you just promise me not to do anything stupid?"

"When do I ever do anything stupid?" I ask and she gives me a pointed look.

"Just be safe, 'kay?"

"Yeah, yeah, c'mon you're killing my mood," I complain.

"Whatever, I'm gonna go find some guy to keep me entertained," she says and I grin.

"Good," I say and she winks. "Have fun."

"I will." She turns and walks off.

"Make good choices!" I shout over the music and she flips me off, making me laugh. I turn back around and see that the guy I was making out with is still there, looking at me.

"What's your name?" I ask him and he licks his lips.

"Parker."

"Well, Parker," I say, moving in closer to him. "I hear this house has a lot of extra rooms, if you know what I mean?"

"Seriously?" he asks, raising an eyebrow whilst also twisting his mouth into a cocky grin.

"Sure, c'mon," I say, grabbing his hand and leading him through the crowds of people.

*

"So, will I see you again?" he asks after a brief period of silence and I roll my eyes slightly. Gently, I sit up and grab my discarded bra from the floor beside me. I clip it around my back and then lean and pick up my lace panties up off the ground. I stand and step into them, pulling them up to my hips. I feel Parker's hand stroke around my lower back, then rest on my hipbone. "What's your hurry?"

"There's a party happening and that's what I came here for," I say over my shoulder.

"Look, can I at least give you my number?"

"How old are you, Parker?"

"20."

"I figured it would be something like that."

"So, like can I give you my number...?"

"Why?" I ask

"Because... I-I don't know," he shrugs and I laugh once.

"Look, Parker," I say, sitting on the side of the bed. "If you gave me your number, then that's basically a marriage proposal."

"What?" he asks and I sigh.

"Well, if you gave me your number then I guess we'd start speaking, maybe only once in a while to begin with but then it would be everyday. And once we start talking everyday we'll start seeing each other, which would soon lead to a full blown relationship. And then eventually we'll be stuck together after I've met your parents and you've met mine and you'll feel pressured to move in together, which let's be honest, neither of us will really want. Then we'll be together another while and you'll propose to me because you think that's what I want but-" I scoff, "honestly that'll be pretty much the last thing I want."

Parker looks slightly shocked by what I've said so I shrug and stand up, putting on the rest of my clothes and leaving the room. I shut the door behind me and lean against the wall for a second. It's a shame Parker wasn't better in bed, because he was actually pretty hot. But he's not as hot as-

Don't even fucking think about him.

I'd managed to keep him off of my mind up until this point, but now I've gone and made myself sad and angry. I dig around in my bag and pull out the bottle of vodka and lift it to my lips. And I know I probably shouldn't but I take a long swig anyway, the harsh alcohol attacking my body, making me want to scrunch up my face in disgust. I don't, though. I let the warmth spread further across my body, tingles settling in on my lips, neck and fingers.

I screw the cap back on to the bottle and make my way downstairs, back to where the party is. The hallway at the bottom of the stairs is fairly empty so I walk down it easily, without people pushing into me. I have it in my mind to find Charlie, not to go home or anything, but mostly just to catch up and check in. I emter into the wider part of the house, where the people are, and battle my way through until I come across Charlie.

"Hey," I shout. She turns around and looks admittedly frazzled. "What's wrong?"

"Scarlett," she says, a slur evident in her voice. "He's here."

"Who is?" I ask and although I can't hear it myself I realise I probably sound just the same.

"Cameron."

"You're serious?" I ask, my anger levels rising. "You fucking serious?"

"I just saw him, he came and spoke to me about you."

"What'd he say?"

"He was, like, asking where you were and stuff but I didn't know and he said he'd look for you."

"I need to fucking get out of here," I say, whipping around, stumbling slightly on my heels and making a swift exit into the garden.

It's pretty empty, with only a few people there - mostly getting with each other. I wander around, the night air chilling me. It hits me then just how drunk I really am and everything blurs just a little. My brain is muddled too.

I don't know, but I guess I feel tired too, because then I'm lying on the grass and it's dewy and wet on my back and bare skin but I guess the black behind my eyelids looks more appealing than everything else because my mind takes over and the world goes black and I can feel the colour all over me, tainting me like dye until I can't remember what's happening anymore.