Sally's laughter is infectious, and I can't stop myself from joining in. Usually, it takes no more than a couple of shots to have her in a jolly mood. This time is no different, I think, watching as she happily skips down the beach, feet sloshing the water around like a child, her bright yellow dress getting soaked in the process.
Looks like everything's going according to the plan.
By the plan, I mean H's advice to get her drunk in order to make her open up. Admittedly, I was not too fond of his choice at first, but after a couple more failed attempts to make Sally talk, I reluctantly agreed that trying his unconventional method may be the only choice left at this point.
Maybe I'm being too pushy, nosy, and just plain aggressive in my attempts to uncover her secret. But, I have always given her space and never, not even once, stuck my nose in her private business. This time though, I can feel that she needs me—needs us, her best friends—and is just too scared to admit what the problem is. Which is exactly why I won't give up trying.
The moment she arrived at my house tonight, I immediately pulled out a fresh bottle of tequila from my pantry, thus putting H's plan in action. She seemed unaware enough; always the first one to jump on an opportunity to have an impromptu party. The fact that Asa was still staying at my house during his short LA visit made it so much easier to make it seem like our only goal was to catch up for old time's sake.
And this is how we ended up on the beach, in the middle of the night, currently reminiscing about our old summer flings.
"He was…" Sally sighs dreamily, looping her arm through mine. "He was so damn good. I mean it. Like… the best."
Yes, she's never been the most articulate while drunk.
"What was so 'good' about him?" Asa asks, the only sober one left out of the three of us.
We both giggle at his innocent question, Sally's face becoming even redder. "Uhm, he was huge. IfyouknowwhatImean."
Asa shakes his head with a groan, muttering, "Why did I even ask…"
Our loud laughter echoes around the nearly empty beach, attracting the attention of a couple cuddling on the beach nearby. They send curious looks our way, but thankfully, they're way too far to recognize me or Asa. Noticing their interest, Asa grabs both me and Sally by our hands, dragging us forward before they can take a closer look at our faces and tweet all about our drunken escapade.
"Whenever I hear about a summer romance, it always takes me back to that old song," I muse out loud. "'The Boys of Summer'."
Asa nods appreciatively, always having been the one to share my love for 80s music, but Sally just stares at both of us blankly. "What?" she asks.
"Don Henley?" I prompt. "Drummer of the Eagles?" I add, though I have little hope that my hint would help. Sally's musical taste has always been different than mine—not necessarily bad, just far from what I listen to.
"I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun…" Asa starts to hum, and I soon join in, resulting in us singing the entire chorus together.
"Oh, I think I heard a remix of this," Sally comments, taking a sip from the tequila in her hand. "Personally I like 'Summer Love' by Justin Timberlake."
"I don't know that," I admit sheepishly.
"Do not mention ex-boybanders around her," Asa smiles secretly. "She's completely clueless."
"Wait, Justin Timberlake was in a boyband?" They both groan at my question. "What?! I don't know!"
"He was in NSYNC," Asa laughs. "Even I know that."
"Oh," I stick my tongue out at him playfully, "Also, shut up, I know my boybanders well enough!"
I think of H and the playful conversation we once had about sexy long-haired men. As soon as I came back home that day, I typed in Harry Styles on Google image search to check whether he indeed had long hair. He sure did. He was also smoking hot, just as I remembered from the rare times I'd come across a photograph of him in One Direction.
In conclusion, I know at least one boyband member.
"That's not true!" I protest, sounding mock affronted. "I know Harry Styles!"
Asa chokes a little bit, pulling the water bottle away from his lips while I look at him strangely. "Sorry," he mumbles. "You do?"
"You're so full of shit!" Sally slurs, pressing her pointer finger into my chest. "I bet you don't know a single thing about him! Can you name at least one of his songs?"
"And here's where you're wrong, babe. I know he has long hair and… and… He's like…" I struggle to think of something, "hot!"
Sally erupts in giggles, "That he is, but you missed a relevant detail—he cut his hair almost two years ago, sometime after he went solo."
"Wait, One Direction is no longer together?" I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, causing both my friends to look at me incredulously. I bow my head, raising my arms in a gesture of surrender. "Okay fine, you win! I have no clue."
"I'm surprised you even heard about him in the first place…" Asa lowers his voice, leaning closer to me with a hint of interest.
"Uhm, well, it came up during one of our talks," I look at him pointedly, not wanting to mention my fence friend out loud with Sally around, since that would result in a whole new round of uncomfortable questions. "With my new friend."
"No fucking way," he grins, shaking his head.
"What?" I ask, even more confused now.
"Nothing, look, we're here!" he points to the swing at the edge of the hill, the one that H's house sits upon. We all huddle on it together, the old rusty chains creaking as we move around to get comfortable.
"Girls, stop fidgeting, this thing looks like it's about to collapse at any moment," Asa frets, trying to keep both of us still.
"I love you both soooooooooo much…." Sally ignores him, leaning her head against my shoulder with a moony smile. "I missed you."
I pat her head affectionately, knowing she's slowly transitioning into the cuddly phase of her intoxication. "I love you too!"
"Is this where you spend all your free time?" she asks, looking around the area curiously.
"Yes, it's either here or up on this hill," I point behind her head. "I love it here. It's very peaceful."
"You've always been a bit of a recluse, and that's one of the reasons why we love you so much. Our little hermit!" she giggles as I bump her shoulder playfully. "Even when you were going through your crazy partying stage, always surrounded by people, you still somehow managed to slip away for a moment of privacy each time."
I nod in silent agreement, leaning my forehead on top of Sally's head. Out of all the comforts my old apartment in New York could offer, the rooftop terrace used to my absolute favourite. Living in NYC made me grow accustomed to the constant sound of traffic and busy urban setting, but the terrace full of greenery had become my little haven, a sort of solace from the crowds and the ever-present noise. I loved the feeling that I was somehow washing away all of my worries there. After moving to Malibu, I guess this spot on the hill has become the equivalent of it, hence why I keep coming back here. Even if it's no longer just 'mine' anymore, but rather shared with the elusive H.
At the sound of my phone pinging in my pocket, I push my wayward thoughts away. There are several Instagram notifications littering my inbox, and I realise Sally posted a selfie of the three of us earlier tonight, tagging mine and Asa's private accounts on it. When I scroll down, I see one comment that catches my attention.
Partying again? You girls are living the life! I hope you two have fun with Asa x
I groan in exasperation, nearly throwing my phone to the ground in anger when Asa's hand catches my wrist. "What's wrong?" he asks, eyes swiping over the comment that got me so upset. "Is this the Emil guy again?"
"What is his deal?" Sally joins in. While the comment seems to be nothing out of the ordinary, I know that just like me, Emil is not the kind of guy who spends time interacting on social media. This must mean that he intentionally seeked out information, probably by stalking our profiles, which is bad in itself. But the worst part is the passive-aggressive undertone of his seemingly harmless message.
"I don't know, I guess he's jealous or something. He's been acting off since Kendall's party," I explain. "He got all weird, accusing me of not giving him a heads up that we're going out."
"No way?!" Sally gasps.
"Yeah, he showed up at the club in the middle of the night, but I blew him off…" I admit with a sigh. "He apologised the next day, Asa saw it—"
"I don't like him," Asa butts in, once again repeating the sentiment from three days prior, and this time I am more inclined to agree with him.
Sally rolls her eyes, "Girl, it's obvious. He thinks you two are dating."
"I never told him we are!" I protest.
"You didn't have to! He is a possessive prick by nature, and you two have been messing around for months now… Of course he's got the wrong idea. I know this sucks, but that's just how men like him are," she shrugs her shoulders. "There's only one thing left to do now, and that's to stop hooking up with him. He'll keep behaving like this unless you set some clear boundaries."
"Yea, I guess…" I frown, because I really believed that I actually found a guy who doesn't care about my commitment issues for once. Sadly, it appears that my judgement of Emil has been wrong this entire time. "Men are trash."
"Hey!" Asa whines.
"Not all of them!" Sally and I laugh, both leaning in to kiss his cheeks at the same time, which makes him turn redder than the shade of my lipstick.
"You know what I think?" Sally asks with a mischievous smile. "That we need to finish this bottle of tequila. Now."
"Girls!" Asa groans once again, knowing very well that he will be the one to deal with our drunk asses later on; just like he usually is.
_________
Two hours, one tequila bottle, and three cringeworthy renditions of 80s hits later, Sally and I were completely plastered. It was, admittedly, not part of the plan. Knowing how badly I wanted to get my friend to talk, it would have been ideal to stay sober. But whenever Sally and I start to drink together, there really is no stopping us.
"And I told him," Sally slurs, twirling a little bit in front of us, "If you want this, babe, you have to work for it."
"As you should, sister, as you should," I agree with an enthusiastic nod of my head.
"Because," she stops for a moment, stumbling a little before ending up sprawled all over Asa's lap, "You have to make them work for it. Remember, Asa: they got to work for this ass," she slowly enunciates each word.
"And this is exactly why you two are single," he smooths down Sally's dress with a chuckle. "Why does it always have to be us men working for it? This is the 21st century, girls, we've got equal rights. Maybe you can make an effort for once."
"Oooh look Sal, Casanova has spoken," I let out a very unladylike snort. "When have you seen a vagina last, Asa? And I don't mean the digital version."
Asa squirms uncomfortably in his seat. "Shut it, you two. I'll have you know that it was not too long ago. And it was a very fine set of lady bits too."
"No waaayyyy… Asa I'm so proud of you," Sally pretends to sniff a little bit, patting his cheek. "Our little boy is all grown up."
"Asa, have you met someone? That's lovely!" I gush, pulling a leg close to myself and wrapping my free arm around it. "Who is she?"
"It's fresh, I don't want to jinx it," he says, but the smile on his face tells me that this is way more than just a budding relationship. You don't make that kind of an expression while thinking of someone you aren't serious about.
"Yesss, means you're finally getting over this one here," Sally comments, then promptly slaps her hand over her mouth, sending us both an apologetic look. "Oops. Too soon?"
"We're fine, Sal. Like I said, I met someone," Asa laughs it off easily, then sends a small smirk my way. "Besides, Miss Doherty has a little secret crush you don't know about."
That little shit!
"Fake news!" I yell just as Sally obnoxiously screams "Who?!"
"Shoot, I need to pee," I lie, stumbling away before Sally can ask more uncomfortable questions. Give her no more than five minutes, and in her current state of intoxication, she'll forget all about it before I'm back.
Climbing up the hill to reach my spot, I need to take at least three short breaks due to the world spinning around me. Or should I be calling it our spot now? In a short time, it has grown to mean a lot to H, just as much as it did to me during the months prior to meeting him. He's even taken to referring to it as if it's something that we have shared custody over, like a kid or a dog or a damn hamster.
I frown at the thought of him. Why are all men so damn stubborn? Granted, I've never paid them much attention before him. They were just a distraction, a fleeting high to stop my mind from wandering into dangerous territories. They were gone, before I really got to know them.
And then there's H, who's more persistent than any person I've ever met in my life. Unperturbed by my efforts to stay away from him, he kept pushing and prodding until I eventually allowed him to become my friend. For the first time in my adult life, I felt like someone actually cared about getting to know the real me, not just the girl whose face is a reminder of some old movies people forgot.
But that's only because he doesn't know what the aforementioned face looks like, I remind myself grimly.
"Shit," I mutter, bumping face first into the damn fence. Looks like I've forgotten to look where I'm going in my alcoholic stupor.
"Drunk again? Will this be a regular thing from now on?" I hear a chuckle coming from the other side, immediately making me groan.
"What the hell H! Why are you still awake? Don't you ever sleep?" I respond, since it must be around four or five in the morning.
"You didn't answer any of my messages, so I thought I'd just sit out here fretting until you decide I'm worthy of a response."
I can almost see him pouting at me, and the mental image makes me grin. He had indeed texted me earlier, asking all about the so-called 'our plan' to get Sally drunk, but since I was already busy implementing it, his texts had to be temporarily ignored.
"You've become so needy. What is it with you men being such suckers for attention?" I complain, dropping to my knees and resting my back heavily against the fence.
"Sounds like some poor lad got on your bad side. What did he do?" Sometimes I'm scared of how well he can read me, even without seeing the expression on my face.
"Nothing," I shut him down quickly, not in the mood to be discussing Emil with him or anyone else.
"What happened to our plan? Y'know, when I said 'get her drunk' I meant your friend, not you," he quips next.
"She is way more pissed than I am! This," I raise a finger in the air, cringing when one finger becomes two, "was an accident."
"Poor you," H mocks, "all the sacrifices you make…"
"Shut it!" I grumble. "Remember that this was your idea."
"Why are you such a grouchy drunk? Last time you nearly bit my head off for stealing your purse—one that you accidentally threw over the fence all by yourself—and now you're being snippy for no reason," H observes, although he sounds more curious than irritated. "Most people are either overly hyper and talkative, or they go all philosophical on you. I've never met a person who's annoyed just because."
"Oh really? And what type of a drunk are you?" I challenge him. "The type to steal a phone from an innocent and unaware girl just to get her number?"
"Horny," he deadpans, and my mouth literally drops at his bluntness. I don't know if I'm supposed to gasp or chuckle at his admission. When I finally regain my senses, he is already having a hearty laugh at my expense. "Just kidding, for fuck sake, you're so easy."
"Ugh," I mutter, shaking my head to myself.
"Also, 'Innocent and unaware'?" he echoes my earlier words. "Please… I can tell you're a real piece of work, Cherry."
I smirk at his rather accurate description of me. "Oh really? And what makes you say that?"
"Met my fair share of people, and you definitely strike me as a kind of girl that can have anyone wrapped around her finger in a heartbeat. And you absolutely love it, too."
"Are you suggesting I am the one who's a sucker for attention?" I am honestly surprised that he picked it all up from a few conversations and texts. Usually, it takes months for people to read me so accurately.
"It's like you said," he chuckles, "It's very easy to spot a fellow narcissist. Though I sense that you are way closer to it than I am."
"Maybe we're twins!" I cackle, head rolling against the fence dramatically.
"That's right! You're like the evil ginger twin from that kid film," he says, and I instantly shoot up into a sitting position, my blood running cold. "The one with the little girl with pigtails… I'm sure you know which one I'm talking about."
"Vaguely," I swallow the lump in my throat.
"Everyone knows this film!" he gasps, horrified. "Everyone!"
"Okay, okay, I get your point. Put on some music, H," I suggest, trying to divert his attention from the topic that I definitely want to avoid.
"Why?" he complains, although I do hear some shuffling coming from his side, and I imagine he moved from his spot to retrieve his phone. Soon enough, a sad, unfamiliar melody breaks through the silence.
"Because I want to prove to you that I can be a fun drunk too."
Without further ado, I get up to my feet and start to sway to the slow music, but I quickly realise that instead of hyping me up, it just puts me in an even more melancholic mood. "Jesus, what are you listening to? This is depressing."
"No clue, someone sent it to me, and I usually listen to the whole album top to bottom," he admits.
"Put on something more upbeat!" I request.
"What do you need happy music for?" he laughs, but obeys me anyway, switching the song to some newer poppy track.
"And what do you care? Maybe I wanna pole dance on this tree, so what?" I say slyly.
"Sure, sure," he plays along, "This should be better for a pole dance." I smirk when he plays a slower, more sensual beat that I clearly recognise.
"'Black Velvet'... Now that's a song I can strip to! Thanks, H…" I tease him, lowering my voice just a bit.
"Who are you planning on giving this show to? I can't see anything through these shrubs," he counters, and I am once again forced to control my laughter. "Don't make me come over there."
"Are you trying to tell me that you don't know how to use your imagination?"
"My imagination works just fine, but I prefer to see the real deal with my own two eyes," he retorts cheekily.
"Oh well, this time you'll have to stick to the mental image. Poor little H… Sitting all sad and horny in his backyard while a hot redhead is slowly, teasingly taking her sexy red top off…" I coo, while simultaneously looking down at my flowery dress that was not even slightly sexy or red. But he doesn't have to know that.
He chuckles, and I feel a pleasant shiver go down my spine at the low timbre of his voice. "Nice try, Cherry. Gotta give you props for being a great actress though." You've no idea.
"Oh, you don't believe me?" I fake a gasp of surprise. "I guess I won't tell you how my skirt comes off next, leaving me in nothing but a skimpy lacy set…"
"Still don't believe you, but please describe in absolute detail for me."
I roll my eyes at his dramatics. Men.
"Tell me, H, what do I have to do to make you believe me?"
"Proof or it didn't happen," comes his immediate response. "Pictures? A little sneak peak?" he begs in a playful tone.
"Nah. It's gonna be way better than that," I promise, reaching to unhook my bra and pull it out from underneath my dress.
"Oh, so I can come over to your side then?" he asks, sounding almost hopeful, to which I just laugh. Hesitating only briefly, I raise my arm and throw my lacy red bra over the fence.
At least I was not lying completely earlier—I did in fact have something red on me.
"Holy shit Cherry! Your aim is phenomenal—" he gasps, but the sound quickly dies in his throat. "Hold up, is this…?!"
I give him no chance to finish that statement, already running down the hill in a flurry of giggles. As soon as I reach the spot where I'd left Asa and Sally earlier, I realise the latter is sleeping soundly, nestled right on my friend's lap. Asa seems to be mindlessly scrolling through his phone, but when I approach him, he lifts his head to look at me with a teasing grin.
"Did you have fun with your 'friend'?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and I notice his gaze subtly go from my face to my chest and then back up again. "Uhm, not that I'm looking where I'm not supposed to, but where did you lose your bra?"
"Wait, was I wearing one?" I pretend to act clueless, taking a swig from the tequila bottle. "We should head back, the sun will rise soon."
"Right," Asa agrees, knowing that the beach will be swarmed with morning joggers and other regulars soon, and it would be best if we're gone by then. "Sal, wake up."
Her blue eyes open wide as she stares at us in confusion, and I can tell she's so far gone that we'll have to basically drag her back to my house. Asa does his best to carry her most of the way, though with her constant squirming it isn't the easiest task. And as I stare at her sleepy face, I also realise that our brilliant plan to get her to talk has officially failed. Remind me to never trust H and his dumb ideas ever again.
Once we reach the back entrance to my house, I type in the code quickly and move to push the gate open, but my eyebrows furrow in confusion once I'm met with no resistance. The gate is, surprisingly, cracked open. "Weird. Asa, have you forgotten to close it?" I ask, since he was the last one to exit the house when we were leaving earlier.
"I don't think so…" he muses, and gently deposits Sally in my arms. "Wait here, okay?"
"Okay," I agree, taking note of his soft voice. I know he is using it as a technique to make me calm down; it was something my therapist had done when I was going through a rough patch after I first moved from New York to Malibu. Back then, it worked. Now, I can only feel my agitation increase tenfold.
The minutes pass as I contemplate calling out for Asa, but he finally re-appears, though his face looks noticeably paler in comparison to my flushed, intoxicated look.
"What's wrong?" I immediately ask once he takes Sal away from my arms.
"Don't freak out. I checked the whole house and no one is there anymore. Okay? Do not freak out."
Pushing past him, and ignoring his pleas to stop, I run through my backyard, past the swimming pool, and all the way to the patio. It's when I reach the entrance that I freeze, staring at the broken glass littering the floor, and what's left of my now broken bedroom window.
"Oh my God," I gasp.
"Hey," Asa whispers, wrapping his arm around me in a gesture of comfort. "I called the security agency. They're on their way."
"The silent alarm, Asa, why did it not go off?" I mutter, feeling my panic levels rise rapidly.
"I don't know, but we will find out soon. Take Sal to the guest bedroom, okay? You're both way too drunk right now."
"I c-can't," I stammer, although deep down I know he is right, and the only reason that I'm not freaking out completely right now is the alcohol coursing through my veins.
"Please," he begs once again, his eyes pleading. "I'll stay awake and watch over the two of you, alright?"
I can feel my pulse thundering in my ears, my body growing cold from the adrenaline. He's right—there is absolutely nothing I can do right now in this state, and so I reluctantly drag Sally away to the guest bedroom, falling into a fitful sleep soon after.
__________
Uh oh someone broke into Cherry's house?! No way! Who could that be? Some crazy psychofan perhaps?
Any thoughts on this chapter and Cherry's drunken antics?
Also: I am thinking of becoming more active on twitter, maybe post updates on my books and interact with readers, so if you're interested, please follow me there: https://twitter.com/CaathyX1?s=09
Until next time,
Xx Cathy
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