Charlie's POV
After helping Ella set everything up for tonight's party, she told me to go upstairs and change into my costume before the guests started to arrive.
I looked at myself in her bathroom mirror and faked a smile before putting on my chosen costume. Harry Potter.
The costume came with a Gryffindor Hogwarts robe, a wand and circular glasses. All I needed to do was draw his lightning bolt scar.
"Expelliarmus!" Ella gasped when i returned downstairs.
I chuckled slightly. "Is Clayton here yet?"
"Not yet, he's probably lip-locked with Olivia in some parking lot." She said as she rifled through her make-up bag.
She held up a pencil and walked towards me. "What's that?" I asked.
"It's a red lip liner, so I can draw the scar on your forehead."
"Oh."
She tucked my hair out of the way and began drawing the scar on my forehead. "Don't get mad,"
I mentally sigh as I rolled my eyes.
"What did you do?"
"I kind of invited this guy I think you would totally be cute with."
Leave it to Ella Jonson to organise a birthday party and a blind date all at once.
"You said that about the last guy."
"His name is Stanley, he's our age, he just recently moved here from London. I think he goes to St Griffiths? Im not entirely sure. But he is so nice, I met him at the mall when I was looking for my Harley Quinn costume. Oh, and he's gay!" She said rapidly, putting the red lip-liner back into her bag.
"He could be an axe murderer."
"Or, he could be your very first boyfriend." Ella squealed excitedly.
"Knock knock!" The front door opened, revealing Tom dressed up as The Joker, and Ryan dressed as a vampire.
"You look so sexy!" Ella greeted her boyfriend.
"Where's your costume?" He wondered.
"I'll go put it on right now." Ella rushed upstairs.
"You're a wizard, Harry." Ryan did his best Hagrid impression and it was spot on.
"And you are Dracula?"
"Cliché, right?"
"So is Harry Potter, so."
An hour later, the house was congested with people in all sorts of costumes when Ella got everyone's attention by cutting the music.
"The cake is here!" She beamed.
She rushed towards the dining table where Clayton and Olivia placed a cake box on top. They went all the way to a nearby town just to get it, since the local bakery downtown wrote down her order for next month.
Ella hastily opened the box. When her face fell, I wondered what was wrong so I looked over her shoulder to see for myself.
Happy Berthday Ellie? Was written on the cake in bright pink icing.
I couldn't help but laugh, causing Ella to give me a look of annoyance.
"What the fuck is this?" Ella snapped, glaring at Clayton and Olivia.
They were speechless. Olivia's eyes widened at Ella's outburst, whilst Clayton was trying not to laugh.
"It's fine babe, probably just a birthday prank." Tom suggested.
"I'm sorry, Ella. The guy had to rush it." Olivia sincerely apologised.
For a moment, it looked as if Ella was about to have a mental breakdown, but then she laughed uncontrollably.
Tom lit the cake and we began singing happy birthday.
"Do you want a piece?" Ella asked me before anyone else.
"No thanks. Not very hungry."
I wasn't lying.
"Are you sure?"
"One hundred percent." I smiled.
"Alright."
Clayton—dressed up as Clyde—came to stand next to me, holding a can of beer out for me to take. "Did you tell the baker to mess up the cake?" I asked.
Clayton smiled, which meant yes.
"Just keeping up with our traditions."
Whenever it's one of our birthdays, the other's always pull a prank. For Ella's birthday last year we shoved the entire cake into her face, which then resulted in an all out food fight.
For Clayton's birthday last year, Ella and I shaved off all of his hair, including his eyebrows, while he was sleeping.
For my last birthday they doused me with honey and maple syrup. I admit that it tasted good, but it was hard to clean off.
I open my can and take a refreshing sip, followed by a sigh of relief.
"Be right back, I need to use the bathroom." I excused myself.
I turned around, smacking straight into someone I didn't think would actually show.
"You should really watch where you're going, Connard." He barged my shoulder as he walked by, attempting to dry the small amount of alcohol I'd just spilled on his shirt.
He was wearing a regular t-shirt and jeans in his usual pitch black, not that I was expecting him to show up wearing a costume.
I brushed the encounter off and rushed upstairs to the bathrooms.
The second i had finished and returned downstairs, Ella ambushed me with a slightly taller-than-me guy dressed up as Where's Waldo.
"Charlie! This is Stanley." She introduced us.
"Please call me Stan." He said in a British accent as he held his right hand towards me.
"Hi." I smiled shyly, shaking his hand.
"I'll leave you two to mingle." She took her leave.
We stood there in silence for a good minute or two before he spoke again.
"I kinda feel like your friend is trying to set us up."
"Classic Ella."
"She's nice. I only met her the other day and she pretty much told me her entire life story."
"Yeah, Ella's one of those people who could talk someone's ear off."
"We all have that one friend."
I smirked at him, whilst taking in his features. He had wavy, dark blond hair and his face was specked with faint freckles.
I won't deny it, he's pretty hot.
"Ella mentioned you go to St Griffiths?"
"Yeah."
"So you know Ace Caldwell?"
"Who doesn't."
A lot of people, I'd imagine.
After conversing for the next hour, I excused myself to go to the bathroom.
I couldn't stop thinking about him. His accent seemed to cause my heart to flutter every time I heard it. We talked about a lot of things, which is unusual for me, given my shy tendencies. He told me about how his family moved here from London, and he even mentioned that he had visited Paris more than a few times, which made me jealous.
The line to the bathroom took forever, so I snuck into Ella's room to use her en-suite.
That's when I saw Ace seated at Ella's window smoking a cigarette.
"Smoking is bad for you." I said as I approached him.
He took a long drag of his cigarette, holding it in his lungs for a moment before blowing smoke in my face.
"What the hell!" I choked.
"Everything is bad for you. Life is a terminal condition." His voice was soft and serene, It sounded like dark and deep poetry. He even seemed sad.
"Is-is it true? That you beat up some guy at your old school because he was..." He looked up into my eyes as he took another drag from his cigarette. "Because he was gay?" I finished my sentence.
He furrowed his brows. "What, do you think I'd beat someone up because of their sexuality?" He practically spat.
I inhaled a shaking breath before saying. "That's what people are saying."
"Well, people are dumb." He exhaled smoke. "I'm not some homophobic douchebag."
"You might not be homophobic, but you're definitely a douchebag." I chuckled.
He laughed too.
"So what happened?" I wondered.
"It's not really any of your business, Connard." He said, putting his cigarette out on the window sill.
"Can you stop calling me that!"
"Okay. See you around, Charlotte."
Jerk!