ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : The Party & The After Party
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0:42 ———|———— -7:39
𝐵𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝓊𝓉𝑒, 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁
𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝓂𝑒
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Sarah barged into her room, excitement radiating from her. "Guess where we're going?" She winked, as she poured half her coke out into her bathroom sink. From underneath her bed in a cut up old plushie she found her bottle of vodka and filled the coke bottle up, laying back down on the bed with her.
"I'm not going anywhere." Isla raised an eyebrow at her, sticking to searching the TV for an old classic to rewatch.
"You have to come to Kelce's party tonight!" Sarah demanded.
Isla glanced up, a hesitant smile on her lips. "Yeah no, Sarah. Parties aren't really my thing."
"Come on, Isla," Sarah insisted, her eyes sparkling. "Topper will be there, and you know I need moral support." She came over, hugging her into admission. "You can't spend another Summer mooning over James Dean."
"Why not?" Isla argued, "what's wrong with that?"
"Isla, I love you, but you need to get out this house. Okay?" Sarah stated, two hands on her hips. "Besides, Wheezie has a sleepover so you'll just be in this big house, alone."
Isla groaned, "okay, okay. Fine." She lay back on the bed.
"Thank god!" Sarah, handed her the vodka bottle excitedly, "what are you going to wear?"
She rolled her eyes, gesturing down to her jeans and cardigan. "This?"
"No, that's not happening." Sarah's face lit up with determination. "Come on, don't you want to dress up?"
Rummaging through her closet, Isla pulled out a white dress. "Is this good enough?"
"This is perfect," she declared, seeing how it hugged her curves perfectly. Pulling out a red lipstick, she brandished it in Isla's face.
Isla raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Sarah?" She winced.
Sarah grinned mischievously, "just trust me, okay?" With practiced hands, Sarah styled Isla's hair into loose waves, framing her face in an effortlessly.
Isla smudged on some eyeliner and lipstick just like her great grandma had taught her to. Pulling on the jacket her mom hated - a big fringe leather jacket she found in a thrift shop, or 'dumpster diving' as her mom put it. "Gimme." Isla insisted, "I'm going to need it for this hell."
Sarah beamed, handing her the bottle. "You look stunning, Isla. Now let's go show hell what they've been missing."
When Isla Blackwell stepped into Kelce's bustling house, heads turned and whispers of her name rippled through the crowded halls.
In the past, Isla might have hesitated to join such a party, preferring quieter moments with Dean and Sarah.
Unlike Sarah, who usually drew all the attention, tonight was Isla's night. Her every step seemed to breathe life into the pulsating atmosphere. The music thumped loudly, setting the rhythm for the night. Isla's body swayed with the beat, her senses alive with the energy of the party.
Dean remained by her side, a protective presence as they weaved through the crowd, garnering attention wherever they went. Despite trying to focus on enjoying the night, her gaze inevitably landed on Rafe, a magnetic pull drawing her towards him despite her best efforts. He sat on the couch flanked by two girls.
Refusing to let him see her reaction, Isla turned away, determined not to grant him the satisfaction.
Isla rolled her eyes playfully. "Don't even start, Dean."
Sarah returned with a triumphant smile, handing them each a plastic cup filled with her mysterious concoction. Isla eyed the colourful liquid suspiciously before taking a cautious sip.
"What's in this?" Isla grimaced, unable to hide her distaste.
"A little bit of everything," Sarah replied with a wink.
Dean intervened, taking Isla's cup with a laugh. "I'll get us something edible. Vodka coke, right?"
As Sarah led Isla to the dance floor, the room seemed to part like the red sea, creating a path for Isla to glide through. Isla let herself be carried away by the music, her inhibitions melting away with each beat and each shot she threw back, trying to ease her anxiety.
Dean reappeared, handing Isla a fresh drink as they clinked their cups together in a silent toast. Isla closed her eyes briefly, savouring the moment of abandon.
A deathly intensity simmered in Rafe's gaze as it swept over the room, landing pointedly on Dean, who seemed unfazed by the scrutiny.
Curiosity and amusement danced in Isla's eyes as she turned to Dean, her voice raised over the music. "Why's he staring like that?"
Dean chuckled softly, leaning in closer to her ear. "Jealousy looks good on him, huh?"
Kelce, ever the observant host, approached them with a clap on Dean's back. "Hey, what's up, man?"
Dean grinned, keeping a protective hand on Isla's back. "Just enjoying the party, Kelce. Thanks for having us."
Kelce's eyes flicked between Isla and Dean. "So, you two..."
Isla rolled her eyes, exchanging a glance with Dean. "We're friends," she replied, her tone inviting Dean to confirm.
Dean nodded. "Yeah."
"Got it, got it. Well, have a blast, you two. And Isla, glad you decided to finally join us," he joked before moving back into the lively crowd.
As Isla danced with Sarah and Topper, she caught snippets of conversation from nearby senior guys.
"She's smokin' hot, man," one guy remarked, eyeing her.
"Definitely," another agreed, aiming a ping pong ball in the game.
Kelce, joining the conversation, added, "yeah, but Rafe's not going to be happy about it - he's being all weird about her recently."
Confusion flashed across the faces of the other guys. "Wait we're talking about Isla, right?"
"Yeah, Isla," Kelce confirmed. "Rafe's got some unspoken rules about her. She's off-limits, you know, king's orders," he teased.
"Want to get some air?" Isla asked Dean, leaving Sarah and Topper to make out on the dance floor. Dean nodded and lead her outside his hand on her back.
Outside, on the porch, Isla and Dean found a moment of respite from the crowded house.
"So how am I doing?" She grinned.
Dean stood back up and put his hands either side of her as she sat down next to him, leaning over her. "You're doing great."
She looked at him. "Be honest."
"I am!" He laughed stepping back. "Look, every guy in there wants you. You must know that?"
She nodded slowly making him chuckle. "I just feel like I look like an idiot."
Dean shook his head at her, wagging his finger at her. "Everyone feels like that. Come on, half the people in there have peaked already. Think of how sad that is, to peak in high school."
Isla shrugged. "What if you never peak at all?"
Again, Dean laughed. "Aw, babe you're too worried. Let me go grab you another drink."
Isla nodded, turning to gaze up at the stars as they twinkled in the night sky, offering a silent companionship that she cherished.
"Isla," Rafe's voice cut through the air like a blade, dripping with venom.
Ignoring him, Isla maintained her focus on the night sky.
"I didn't realize we were all invited to your little show with Dan tonight," Rafe's smirk was evident in his tone as he gestured towards the dance floor.
"Go back inside, Rafe. Wouldn't want the girls to get lonely," Isla rolled her eyes, nodding back to the two waiting for his attention inside.
A content smile graced Rafe's face as he turned away. "You're jealous."
"Is that what you want? Do you want me to be jealous?" Isla countered, her tone laced with playful defiance.
Rafe towered over her, a silent demand in his posture. "Let's talk."
"I'm good here, thank you," Isla replied sweetly, her tone mocking.
As Rafe's scent mingled with the night air—cologne, smoke, whisky, leather, and a hint of another girl's perfume— Isla couldn't help but scoff.
"Is that bubblegum?" She commented casually.
Rafe took a deep breath, a shrug his only response.
"Why did you come out here?" Isla's question cut through the tension, her genuine curiosity momentarily catching Rafe off guard.
"I told you not to come tonight," Rafe replied, stepping closer to her.
"Why do you think you get to tell me what to do?" Isla moved away, a brush of their skin sending a jolt through her.
"You don't belong here. You should go." Rafe reminded her, his eyes locking with hers.
"I'm not going to do a single thing you tell me to," Isla asserted firmly, opening the door to head back inside.
Rafe blocked her path, his dark eyes holding her gaze captive. "Seriously Isla, you never come to these things. I specifically told you not to come tonight, and now you're here."
Isla cut him off with a laugh, shaking her head in amusement. "God, you really are a narcissist."
Confusion flickered in Rafe's eyes, replaced by a softer gaze that caught Isla off guard for a moment. "I'm looking out for you."
"Don't act like you care about me," Isla's words were tinged with a hint of vulnerability, her walls momentarily slipping.
Rafe's grin turned smug. "So you are jealous..."
Rolling her eyes, Isla tied her hair up, her determination shining through. "This is why I hate you."
Rafe closed the distance again, a subtle tension lingering between them. "You hate me?" His tone was teasing, his eyes raking over her figure.
"You are so arrogant," Isla shot back, taking a swig from a nearby bottle of whisky.
Rafe's thumb brushed against her neck, his touch sending a shiver down her spine as their eyes locked in a silent battle.
"What is a girl like you doing with Dean?" Rafe's voice was low, his breath hot against her cheeks.
"Let me go," Isla demanded, her resolve hardening as she pushed past him and back into the pulsating energy of the party.
"Hey baby." A Kelce slung his around her.
Before he could say another word, Rafe had shoved him back against the wall. "Time to go home," his voice was low, stepping in between them, staring his best friend down as he spoke to Isla.
Kelce rolled his eyes, holding his hands up. "Dude!"
"Now," Rafe said, turning back to her, his abdomen a centimetre away from her chest. He watched how her eyes glistened in the disco lights, even when they were glaring at him.
"No," Isla tried, but Rafe was too strong.
"You're drunk," Rafe said, making her feel pathetic.
"No, I'm not," she whined. Rafe didn't even look at her, instead, he lifted her up. She tried to hit him, to get him off of her. It was useless. She felt like a stupid kid compared to his strength.
"Get off of me!" Isla pushed him. She looked over his shoulder, trying to make eye contact with Dean or Sarah, but they were nowhere to be found.
"Stop making a scene," he hissed in her ear. Putting her down harshly on her feet, he walked behind her to his car.
"What the hell are you doing?" Isla squinted at him as he opened the door for her.
"Get in," he waited.
"No."
"Get in the car," he rolled his eyes.
"You can't drive," she pointed at him. "You've been drinking."
"One shot," Rafe folded his arms. "Now get in the car." Isla turned to face him, her hands on her waist.
"What do you think you're doing? Huh? You don't care about me." In the light of his headlights he saw her clearly, her hair wild, her lipstick smudged a little. Who the hell had she kissed? His blood boiled.
"I'm taking you home. Now get in, or do I have to make you?" Before she could reply, he started towards her, making her get in quickly to avoid another lifting situation.
Getting in the driver's seat, he looked over at her. Her head in her hand. The skirt of her dress was way too short, and the neckline barely covered anything, as she hugged her jacket tighter to her with the blasting air conditioning.
Turning to his backseat, he found his hoodie. Throwing it at her. "Put this on." Isla shivered as he turned up the AC, glaring at him.
They drove in silence for the most part. He looked over briefly to see her eyes closed. Rafe glanced at her, his expression curious. "You feeling okay?"
Isla sighed, her tone firm. "I'm not drunk."
He chuckled knowingly. "You were."
She shook her head in denial. "No, I was not."
Rafe's grin widened teasingly. "Why else would you flirt with Kelce?"
Isla playfully swatted his arm. "Shut up."
"Trying to make me jealous?" Rafe's eyes glinted mischievously.
Isla turned away, shaking her head. "No. He's sweet."
Rafe scoffed skeptically. "You don't think that."
Isla frowned, nodding indignantly. "What's so hard to believe? Kelce's sweet."
As Rafe parked the car, he remarked with amusement, "Now I know you're drunk."
"I'm not drunk, Cameron," Isla insisted as she got out of the car, declining his help.
Rafe followed her into the house, a teasing tone in his voice. "C'mon, Isla, don't run off now." He challenged.
Confused, Isla squinted at him. "What do you mean?"
Rafe chuckled, explaining Sarah's absence. "The house is empty, and I know you hate being alone."
Surprised, Isla considered his offer to hang out by the pool, disbelief evident in her voice. "You want to hang out?"
Rafe leaned against the backdoor, a cigarette dangling from his lips. "Got nothing better to do."
Jokingly, Isla responded, "Scared to be alone with me?"
Rafe raised an eyebrow. "As if."
Sitting by the pool, they bantered playfully. Isla attempted to pull Rafe into the water, but he resisted easily, amused by her efforts. Teasing her, Rafe took off his shirt, watching her reaction. Isla tried to hide her crush, though his presence was captivating.
"You could have just asked nicely," Rafe teased.
Confused, Isla furrowed her brow. "What are you doing?"
He answered casually, "Getting in the water. Drinking and swimming is notoriously dangerous."
"What are you, a lifeguard?" Isla rolled her eyes playfully, trying to mask her nervousness.
"Not like Quentin Pembroke..." His words hung in the air, surprising her with his attentiveness.
Isla splashed him and chuckled. "It's not even true," she insisted, laughing nervously.
As Rafe lowered himself into the pool with ease, Isla couldn't help but notice his toned biceps, momentarily distracted.
Swimming counterclockwise away from him, Isla felt a mix of excitement and apprehension.
"What, you've never been kissed?" Rafe's question caught her off guard, causing her breath to catch in her throat.
Isla bit her lip, silently confirming his assumption.
As they both stood in the shallow end of the pool, their closeness palpable, Isla's heart raced with anticipation.
Her hair was dripping down her cheeks, forming small droplets on her eyelashes, her freckles, her cupids bow. She was so intoxicating before him. He had never felt the urge to kiss so gently before. To place soft presses against her, to feel her skin beneath his.
His fingertips extended out to her. Tracing a line between the beauty spot on her cheek down to the corner of her mouth. Brushing her hair back from her face. Her beauty was so refreshing, so pure and real.
"What are you doing?" Isla whispered, her eyes drawn to his mouth.
Rafe's gaze lingered on her lips, his voice low and serious. "You look pretty with wet hair," he complimented, causing her cheeks to flush deeply.
Isla looked at him, her expression a mix of bewilderment and confusion, her tongue gently running along her bottom lip.
"Stop it," she protested, moving away and swimming to create some distance between them.
Rafe caught her wrist gently. "Stop what?" he asked softly, his eyes searching hers.
"You're only doing this to embarrass me," Isla accused him, "I know you too well, Rafe Cameron..." She distanced herself further, attempting to regain her composure.
His eyes dropped to her lips, imagining their softness and feeling a pang of longing.
"I like that you know me." He said honestly, taking her aback.
He observed her shallow breaths and the bright, captivating sparkle in her eyes, reminiscent of the ocean at sunset.
"Rafe," she whispered again, barely audible yet impactful.
He closed his eyes briefly at the sound of her like that. Her mere presence entranced him, his senses belonged to her, leaving him spellbound.
Isla's eyes searched Rafe's, her breath hitching as she leaned slightly closer, a mix of longing and uncertainty reflected in her gaze.
Rafe's heart pounded in his chest, every fiber of his being drawn to her. His hand, still gently holding her wrist, tingled with the urge to pull her closer. He felt the warmth of her skin against his fingertips, a sensation that sent a jolt of electricity through him.
Their faces were mere inches apart now, the air between them heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. Rafe could feel the magnetic pull, the irresistible urge to close the distance and taste the softness of those red lips.
But then, with a sudden clarity that cut through the haze of desire, Rafe hesitated. He fought against his own longing, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. As much as he wanted to lose himself in that moment, he couldn't shake off the weight of responsibility, the knowledge of consequences that could follow a reckless act.
"We should... we should probably call it a night," Rafe murmured, his voice strained with restraint as he reluctantly let go of her wrist.
Isla blinked, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features before she masked it with a nod. "Yeah, right," she agreed softly, her eyes dropping momentarily before meeting his gaze again.
The spell seemed broken, the charged atmosphere dissipating into reality. Rafe turned away slightly, his jaw clenched as he battled the inner turmoil. He knew he had made the right choice, yet a part of him longed to rewind and let instinct take over.
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