Orange and honey danced on my tongue. Every sip sent me deeper into drunkenness. I had no idea where we were. The limo drove around and Chiara and I drank in the backseat. Pop music blasted from the loudspeakers, the fast beat making me move in the seat. Chiara sang the song and shook her hair from side to side.
I knew if I acknowledged the time and space, I would probably freak out. So, I ignored my phone and ignored any signs of life beyond this limo. Fortunately, we didn't even see the driver and he couldn't hear us because of the music.
"Do you want to talk about it?!" I shouted over the music, feeling lightheaded and dizzy and so, so tired. Chiara shook her head in the rhythm, grinning widely at me.
She pulled me closer. Our thighs touched and she hugged me around my waist. My heart skipped a beat in the same time as the beat of the music dropped. It was like being on a rollercoaster; my rationality begged me to calm down and my heart whispered to go wild. Heart's whispers seemed louder than mind's screams.
Chiara's fingers intertwined with mine. Her hand was incredibly soft. My pulse vibrated against her skin. The sudden decrescendo made her lean onto the seat, her eyelids fluttering and her forehead sweaty.
I was suddenly able to hear my own thoughts.
"Please, talk to me." I said. The world spun as I tried to close my eyes for a moment. I had to stop drinking. I doubted throwing up in the limo was lady-like.
"I'd rather not." Chiara answered. A slower, soothing song began to play as I stared at Chiara's closed eyes and her agape lips.
Her sweat-covered chest rose and fell; the dimmed light reflecting off her skin. A sudden fear emerged in the pit of my stomach, aching and deep. I drank so much. Perhaps I wouldn't remember this moment as clearly as I would want to. It would be lost over the time. And the only thing that would stay vivid were the beams of sweat and the black of her lashes.
"Do you want me to kick his ass?" I asked, swallowing the rising panic that this moment was fleeting. "I might be able to."
She smiled lightly and looked at me. The emptiness in her eyes made me flinch. It was like looking at a different person. She was usually so positive and full of life. Right now, her green eyes were a shade darker.
Oxygen left my body as she untangled her hand from mine and reached for my face. Goosebumps spread through my skin, the soft hair all over my body lifted. The booze and the music made me lean into the touch. I was suddenly aware of every spot of my body. My thighs leaned onto hers. Her hand around my waist. Her fingers creating circles on my flesh, sending shivers down my spine.
Pulling myself out of the moment with the strength I didn't know I possessed, I moved away from her. A flash of disappointment sparked in her eyes; like she didn't expect me to have this level of restraint.
"Tell me why you're with him." I demanded, swallowing the heat and the excitement that threatened to consume me. Everything in me went wild. I felt the lack of her touch too vividly.
Maeve has never made me go this crazy.
"Why does it matter?" Chiara's voice lowered and hearing her whisper didn't help the building ache in my heart, my stomach and between my thighs.
"It matters." I forced the words out of my mouth against my will. I didn't want to talk. No, I wanted to complete that fucking dare. "Josh made out with another girl at this party and you're about to do the same."
Saying it out loud sounded completely unbelievable.
A spark of destruction appeared in her eyes, but she quickly averted her gaze and moved away from me.
"He has something on me." She whispered and the words slammed into me. I knew it! I fucking knew it!
"What?" The grunt that left my lips belonged to someone else, someone braver, more resolute. The need to protect her grew.
Chiara turned towards me, her eyes shining with new tears. It hurt to see her like that, but I shoved the feelings down, knowing full well this was too much too fast.
"A tape." Chiara answered, staring deep into my eyes.
My heart sank. Bryan was right.
I leaned onto my knees, trying to will my rapid heartbeat into relaxing. I had too much to drink. The bile rose to my throat and I swallowed the dizzying, upturning feeling. Fortunately, there was water in the limo and I washed it down.
"It doesn't matter." Chiara placed her hand on my naked thighs.
Shit. The touch sent jolts of pressure through my body. Fucking focus, Jackie. But neither my heart nor my mind wanted to leave.
"It matters." I repeated, feeling like a broken record. Truthfully, the words we exchanged didn't matter.
All that mattered was this building pressure that begged to be soothed, released.
"Jackie."
I turned my head and looked into her drunken eyes. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have seen the lust and longing in her widened irises. Her red lips begged to be kissed.
What was the worst thing that could happen? She would probably keep it a secret anyway. And I would get to leave high school knowing I lived one day in her life, knowing I kissed Chiara Abbot. My brain shifted from 'no' to 'yes' in a second.
Slowly, I leaned in. My right hand cupped her cheek and my left hand touched her waist. Gosh, she was so fucking beautiful. And she stared at me wide-eyed. Her hand sneaked towards my naked thighs again and the pressure spread from the grip up and down my leg.
Ignoring my rapid heartbeat and the dizziness, my lips brushed hers. Slowly, gently. Everything within me exploded, contrasting the softness of her lips.
I moved away slightly, like a scared child. My eyes searched for approval in hers. Chiara slid her hand up my thigh, leaving hot trails everywhere she touched me.
Anticipation threatened to flood me. I thought I might burn out from all the booze and desire.
But I kissed her again, letting the softness of her lips and the taste of honey send me spiralling. All that was left to do was follow my instinct. I opened my mouth, forgetting all of my insecurities and fears as her warm tongue touched mine.
Before I realised what I was doing, my fingers found her hair and I pulled her closer. A soft moan escaped her lips and I went wild. I wanted more, I needed more. I allowed myself no second thoughts as my hand found the zipper of her jumpsuit and pulled it down clumsily. Her white, strapless bra begged to be taken off, ripped off. Gosh, I wanted to touch her, but I was too scared.
Chiara moved away from me for a second, enough to look into my eyes. Her cheeks were rosy and flustered. A wicked smile appeared on her lips as she flipped our positions. I found myself leaned onto the seat, staring at her above me.
I squirmed on the seat, unable to contain my excitement. I cursed myself and applauded myself for wearing a dress. Chiara kissed me again, her teeth brushing against my lower lip.
Her hand trailed up my thigh, disappearing under my dress. Pressure built inside me, threatening to spill at the mere idea of her touch. I felt her fingers graze my upper thigh, so close, too close.
The touch of her tongue and her fingers and the smell of booze on her breath made me forget why I ever loved anyone else. Everything disappeared. All the problems and issues dispersed right in front of me.
The car stopped to a halt. No, no, no. A chuckle escaped from Chiara's lips and her fingers still hovered above the spot she didn't get to touch.
"Looks like we've arrived home." She said and just like that, moved away from me.
"What? No." I whispered, my voice fucking hoarse and heavy. "Come on."
"I guess this is it for tonight." A grin spread across her face and every aching spot in my body rebelled against her words.
"Chiara." I grabbed her hand and pulled her back, but she shook me off.
"The night is over, Jackie." She laughed out loud and zipped her jumpsuit back up. "I'll see you in class."
My panties were soaked, my heart was racing and my mind swirled with question. But she opened the door of the car and slid out, leaving me hot and bothered.
My shallow breaths were louder than the dying music and disappointment flooded me, stronger than the previous excitement. The barrier between me and the driver slid down, revealing a suit-dressed gentleman who looked at the rear-view mirror.
"Miss, this is your stop, too." The driver said.
"Thanks." I murmured, grabbed my purse and escaped the embarrassment of the realisation that there was a driver present throughout this whole make out session.
I staggered on my walk of shame to the imposing buildings of Astley Academy. Briefly, I wondered if I should just follow Chiara, but she was nowhere to be seen.
A mixture of disappointment and relief settled in my heart. Perhaps I wouldn't be able to handle it. All the drama and wealth and excess. I was made for simpler things; studying and reading and imagining a more extravagant life. Living vicariously through braver, wilder people.
The thought punctured a hole. What used to satisfy me, now seemed hollow and boring. But I still remembered vividly the glistening sweat on her skin and the black of her lashes.
Well, at least I seized the day.