CAL:
“You okay now?” I ask, peering down at Kayla. Her big eyes are bloodshot and her nose is red, but she seems okay, less shaky anyway.
She nods her head, biting down on her bottom lip.
“It’s over. It’s the past...” I whisper, patting her head.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you Cal! But I don’t want you to end up like that!” she whispers hoarsely.
“I won’t! It sounds like Ivan was pretty hardcore. I’m a light weight though. I know how much I can take. Like the other night...that was just one bottle of whiskey and a couple of brandies. That’s it. I puked my guts out because I can’t take much alcohol in my system. So I promise... I’ll never let that happen to me,” I assure her solemnly.
“Cal! Nobody thinks that will happen to them! Don’t you see the point of my story?” she asks exasperatedly.
I sigh slightly. “I don’t have a problem. I drink socially, but that’s what’s expected of me. I know you think I’m shallow and all... but you wouldn’t be able to imagine the crap I’d get if I didn’t drink. Like the other night for example! I didn’t intend to drink! I swear! But my friends made such a huge issue out of it that it just was easier for me to drink than to argue with them,” I mumble.
“Do you hear yourself Cal? You drink not because you want to, but because others want you to?” she demands, looking a little crossed.
“Look, if we carry on, we’re going to end up fighting again. I promise, I won’t ever let myself get so sloshed when you’re around okay? I won’t make you see me like that. But I know I don’t have the will to stop drinking cold turkey,” I admit.
She sighs and turns away from me, sitting back down.
“Kayla, don’t be mad, please?” I beg softly.
“I’m not mad-” she begins before I cut her off.
“You’re disappointed, huh?” I tease.
She hits me in the arm, laughing slightly.
“Do you wanna ditch this place?” I suggest nudging her shoe.
“Yeah,” she mumbles, smiling.
I throw an arm over her shoulder and lead her towards my car. “I need to pick something up from my house...do you wanna come with me? Or I could drop you off back at your place?”
“I get to see your house? Of course I want to go!” she exclaims gleefully.
I chuckle at her reaction and gun the engine, making sure not to drive too fast, lest I should frighten her again.
“Hmm, how much do you know about drunks?” I finally ask.
“Not much. I don’t drink... and I don’t like others who drink,” she admits sheepishly.
“Okay, so there are ten categories of drunk people, alright? Bear in mind that any one person could be a mixture of a few of these characteristics. So first we have the sexy drunks. These people basically think everyone in the world is attracted to them. Next you have the pass out drunks, who...well pass out when they’re drunk. The third is the funny drunks. These people will laugh at ANYTHING when they’re drunk. Then you have the dancing drunks, who really should not dance. Fifth, you have the violent drunks. Sixth are the denial drunks who think they can stomach one more shot. Seventh are the throw up drunks. Eight are the incomprehensible drunks who slur everything! Ninth are the unable to walk drunks. And lastly, you have the crying drunks!” I murmur smugly.
I expected Kayla to lecture me a little or something, but instead she bursts into a fit of laughter. “You are such a dork Cal Cafferty!”
“What?!” I demand.
She merely smirks at me and turns on the music. The both of us bob our heads to the thumping bass as I drive down the busy streets.
“So where do you live?” Kayla finally asks.
“A little bit further. Don’t freak when you see the house, alright?” I warn.
She shoots me a questioning look but nods her head in compliance. I grin at her and turn the music up.
Another ten minutes of driving and I turn off the main road and down the street. Right at the end of the street, my mansion stands, standing out.
Kayla’s mouth drops and she looks like a cartoon character with the cheesy ‘o’ shaped mouth.
“I said don’t freak,” I remind her, smirking at her reaction.
“Shut up! You live here?! In the freaking palace?!” she mutters, her wide eyes huge.
“It’s not a palace. It’s a huge cement construction that doesn’t deserve to be called a house or a home or anything like that. It’s just a concrete building,” I mutter darkly.
My mum’s sleek red convertible is in the driveway and I grimace as I realise I’ll have to face her in a few minutes.
“On second thought, you could sit in here, Kayla. I’ll just run in and get my stuff,” I suggest.
“No! I want to see your home!” she insists, smiling playfully.
“This isn’t my home!” I snap. I immediately regret it and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry...”
“No, it’s okay,” she murmurs. She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before opening her door.
I sigh and kill the engine climbing out as well. I lead her into the house, pushing the massive door open. Kayla does a double take, whistling lowly.
“Dude, your house is amazing!” she gushes.
“Ah, so I see you came crawling back, like you always do!” my mum greets, walking into the hallway. She narrows her eyes at Kayla and sniggers.
“I told you, son, no riff raff in my house,” she insults.
“Shut up!” I growl.
“Cal! Please! Don’t be so rude!” Kayla begs, looking uncomfortable.
“She can’t talk to people like that!” I hiss.
My mum smirks, and leans against the doorway. “Is this the girlfriend then Cal? Beth told me your girlfriend was a knock out...guess she lied.”
I narrow my eyes at my mum and stomp up the stairs, pulling Kayla with me.
The moment I reach the top of the stairs, my sister appears out of nowhere and pushes me back.
Luckily I released Kayla’s hand, otherwise the both of us would have fallen down.
I jump to my feet, scowling at my sister.
Kayla remains on the steps looking shocked. “Fcuk off Beth!” I snarl pushing her out of my way roughly. I grab onto Kayla’s hand and drag her down the long corridor with me. We get to the West wing of the house where my room is and I pull her inside, locking the door behind me.
She sits on my bed, her eyes drinking in my room. “It’s a little messy,” I mumble, picking up my clothes from the floor.
“No it isn’t! You’re really neat for a guy,” she comments. “Your family seems...”
“Horrible,” I finish for her, shrugging.
I grab a knapsack and begin rifling through my closet for stuff that I need. I throw in some clothes, some books and a few knick knacks.
“Are you seriously moving out?” she finally asks.
“Now that you’ve met the Adam’s family, can’t you see why I want to? But no...not permanently anyway. I’m pretty good at avoiding them actually. But yeah,” I mumble awkwardly, running my hand through my hair.
“So...what’s the deal with your family?”
I give her a lopsided smile and plonk down on the bed next to her. “Okay, so I had an older brother, Donovan. He was two years older than me, and he was the only person who made this place almost a home. My dad is an international businessman. He’s rolling in cash and I honestly do think he loves his kids a lot...but he just doesn’t have the time for us. He has mistresses everywhere! I’m not kidding! And the bitch downstairs is Stacy. She’s my step mum and Bethany’s biological mother. She’s a complete slut. Dad banged her, got her pregnant and left my mum. It was a messy divorce, dad got custody of us... and we’ve been a horribly dysfunctional family since then,” I murmur teasingly.
“And...your brother...Donovan...” she trails off.
“Is dead. But I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell her immediately.
She nods her head and doesn’t push thankfully. “Thanks Kayla...I’ll tell you someday. But not today and not in this place.”
Again she nods at me, shooting me a quick smile.
“I have an idea! You invited me to your house the last time and it was really nice of you and your family to welcome me. Let me take all of you out tonight? Dinner and a movie, completely my treat. Or rather, my dad’s. I have his credit card,” I explain, smirking.
“No...I wouldn’t-”
“Listen, nothing would make me happier than to blow some of my dad’s cash. So call your parents and arrange it,” I mutter bossily.
She smirks at me and picks up her phone. After ten minutes of conversation it’s set. Dinner with the Thomas family.