Chapter Six
Elle
“Then, I dunked the ball into the hoop in the last ten seconds, and won the game!” a guy boasted, recalling a basketball game from his from high school glory days. Why did he think I honestly cared? Why did he think anyone cared?
“That’s great!” I said, forcing a weak smile.
“Yeah, totally awesome, bro!” Jake said, high-fiving him.
“I know, right? It was wicked!” the guy said, taking another swig of the potent smelling alcohol in his hand.
“Jake,” I whispered.
“Elle,” he said, looking over to me.
“Who’s that?” I asked, pointing to a blonde girl in the middle of the room, who looked oddly familiar to me. She appeared to be a little lost, or drunk, and for some strange reason I had a gut feeling that I didn’t like her.
“The blonde?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh, I don’t know, you’d have to ask your brother, sorry,” he said, glancing at me apologetically.
“No, it’s fine, it doesn’t really matter anyways,” I said, trying to figure out who that girl was. From where I sat, her dress looked to be a little bit on the short side, but definitely designer. That’s so sad that I could tell it was an expensive dress. I’m Elle Paterson, I’m not supposed to care, let alone know, about negligible stuff like that!
Last year, Kara dragged me dress shopping for senior prom. When I say “dragged,” I mean she physically had to haul me into the stores. I’m not exactly the biggest fan of shopping, or clothes for that matter. As we went from store to store, I could feel my life force being sucked away little by little. Then, as if the journey wasn’t bad enough, she made me go through every single dress we passed, and pick out which ones were designer brands, and which ones were knockoffs. Why? Because she wanted me to leave high school with “at least being slightly educated in something useful to life.” Why on earth would I agree to do something like this? Well, one, because she’s my best friend, and two, because she said she would attack my face with an explosion of makeup one night while I was sleeping. Did I mention that makeup’s also not on my agenda list of favorite things?
“Do you want anything to drink?” Jake asked politely.
“Just water, please,” I replied quietly.
“Really Elle?”
“I don’t drink,” I mumbled responsibly.
“Okay, I’m down with that; water it is,” he said, taking a red plastic cup, and filling it up for me. He offered it up, and I graciously accepted. After scanning the scene, I saw a sofa in the distance that looked moderately safe, and wasn’t in an outrageously congested area. I walked over, not caring if Jake was following or not, and sat down. Jake evidently was following me, and sat down beside me.
He gently slung his arm over my shoulder, and asked, “What’cha thinking about?”
“Nothing,” I replied truthfully. I leaned my head against his chest, and we rested there in a peaceful silence. People grinded with each other, and underwent things they would be regreting in the morning, while we sat and watched in a haze. I like watching people; sometimes, it’s nice to be on the outside, looking in. It calms me, I guess.
I saw a tall guy approach the blonde girl I had asked Jake about earlier, and kept my eyes glued to the two of them for a few minutes, as they danced, and talked. The song ended, and a new one came on. A song I knew far too well. I discreetly covered my ears with my hands, closing my eyes in the process. I couldn’t listen to this song; the memories it came with were just too much to handle.
“Is the music too loud?” Jake asked caringly.
“No, I don’t like this song,” I bit the bottom of my lip. I opened my eyes back up, and focused back onto the blonde girl and tall dude. The tall boy was looking over to me. His eyes locked with mine, and he smirked. Then, he did the unthinkable- he walked away from the blonde girl, and started moving straight for me. I buried my head into Jake’s toned frame, when I felt someone tap my shoulder. I wanted to go crawl into a hole.
“Excuse me,” the guy who had touched me spoke above the music.
“Yeah?” Jake said for me.
“Mind if I dance with her? Just for this song?” the boy requested.
“Nah. Elle, go,” Jake nudged me.
“I don’t want to,” I muttered stubornly.
“Oh, Elle, that hurts!” the guy said. I couldn’t deal with this right now.
“Elle, I’ll be right here, one dance with him, then we can crash for the night,” Jake said encouragingly. What boyfriend would willingly let his girlfriend dance with another guy? Sometimes I think Jake’s just too nice.
“Fine,” I sighed, getting up from my comfy spot on Jake, and reluctantly being led to the center of the room with the guy. His arms found their way to my waist, and I hesitantly put mine around his neck.
“I don’t bite,” he teased. “Well, at least not when I’m in a good mood.”
“Shut up,” I hissed.
“Mhmmm… Ya know, Elle, I really like this song.”
“Good for you,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“We're smiling but we're close to tears, even after all these years. We just now got the feeling that we're meeting for the first time!” he sang quietly into my ear.
“Stop,” I commanded, close to tears myself. I hate this song.
“Why?” he pondered.
“I don’t like this song.”
“Really? Well, if my memory is correct, I believe this was our song. But I mean, who would remember something like that?”
“Who were you dancing with?” I asked, changing subjects from the current song playing.
“Rosie Walden,” he said, adding a stiff smile. I froze. Rosie can’t be here! Jordan sucked in the older brother department! Out of six billion freaking people Jordan had to invite Rosie! How does someone conciously do that?!
“W-why is she here?” I faltered.
“She’s going to school at Boston College,” he explained.
“BC? Really? That’s so… not her!”
“Yeah, well, she was happy when I told her I was single.” Nice move! Trying to make me jealous by hearing that you were talking to Rosie! Smart! If this was a chess game, you’d still be losing, but nice one, bud. Good effort. Maybe if I wasn’t smart that move may have actually worked on me! Still, a very commendable try, my friend.
“Oh, of course. The song’s over, I’m going back over to my boyfriend,” I said, adding a strong emphasis on the last word.
“Yeah, sure, but you have to let me make you this awesome drink before you go back over and pretend I don’t exist!” he pleaded, lightly tugging my arm towards him.
“No! Nick, you know I don’t drink!” I whined, trying to escape.
“It’ll be a virgin one. I promise. No alcohol!” he pleaded.
“Fine,” I groaned. He led me back over to the bar, and shuffled through the assortment of bottles Jordan and Jake had somehow acquired in their possession. I really hope Jake doesn’t turn into an alcoholic.
Nick
I found it rather ironic when For The First Time, by The Script started playing. I was trying to break away from Rosie, when I heard the lyrics, and looked over to Elle. She looked as though she would throw up at any second. What’s the matter, Elle? Bad memories come with the song? All I remember are good ones. Great ones even. She was jealous when I told her I had been talking to Rosie; I could tell. Elle is Elle, and jealousy is something even she doesn’t hide very well.
“So, what is it?” Elle asked, as I handed her the mixture I had assembled.
“Uh… a pinna colada,” I said.
“What’s in it?” she questioned, staring at it distastefully.
“Coconut and stuff? You’ll like it,” I assured her, not going into details of the contents that the cup held.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Elle, I’m sure,” I laughed. This girl was so impossible sometimes. She sighed, looked at the cup once more, before holding it up to her mouth, and taking a small sip. A light smile found its way across her face, telling me that she liked it.
“I told you that you’d like it!” I urged.
“Who said I liked it?” she asked, taking another swig of the drink. She was going to hate me later.
“No, you’re right, that’s just an assumption on my part. You probably hate it, and just want to make sure. That is why you’re drinking it so fast, right?”
“Right. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to back over to my boyfriend!” she said, walking over to Jake confidently, drink in hand. I couldn’t wait until she started stumbling over things.
“Hey,” someone said in a husky voice behind me.
“Hi,” I said, turning around to greet none other than Rosie. This girl was insane. There was no other way to describe her- actually there were a LOT of ways to describe her, but insane was the easiest way to sum up her personality.
“Want to go upstairs with me?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
“No,” I shook my head.
“What?”
“I don’t want to. Rosie, how many drinks have you had so far?”
“I’m completely sober right now, actually. I can get drunk if that’s what you want!” she said, grabbing the nearest bottle of vodka, and popping the cork. If this was her sober, I’d love to see her drunk... on a video; being in the same room as her while drunk sounded dangerous to me.
“No! You can put that down!” I said, not wanting this girl to go anywhere remotely near alcohol.
“So, do you want to go hook up?” she asked, passing me the translucent bottle.
“No.”
“Nick! I thought you said you were single!” she whined.
“I did. That still doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”
“You’re so mean!” she cried.
“Okay,” I agreed, not wanting to get into a fight with her.
“I need someone to go hook up with, since you’re obviously a loser or something!” she said, sauntering away to the next poor guy.
“Nick Ross?” someone said.
“Yo!” I said, trying to figure out who had called my name.
“Right here!” a guy said, holding up his hand.
“Hey,” I said, not recognizing him.
“I’m Jett Michaels,” he said, shaking my hand unexpectedly.
“Uh huh,” I said, still not knowing whom he was.
“I’m on the football team at Harvard. We were given a list of freshman, and the coaches spoke very highly of you.” So I was just that good! Wow. Football has always been my backup plan, but maybe after I’ve graduated grad school it could actually turn into a career. If people who didn’t even know me, knew me because of football, that meant I was definitely pretty great. Psh. Like Danni would ever let me become a professional football player! No way! It was a good dream to have though.
“How do you know who I am?” I asked.
“I know your brother,” he replied.
“How do you know my brother?”
“I’ve played against him. He said you were going to Harvard.” Ah! Good ol’ Evan! Spreading my name to random people he was probably trashing talking! What a nice bro!
“How do you know Jake and Jordan?”
“I also know Jake from football, and he introduced me to Jordan. Jake also commended you on your football ability when I asked him about you.” And of course, like always, Jake had to be the perfect one, being nice to even people like his girlfriend’s... ex.
That’s an awful word. Ex. It makes me think about a giant red X scribbled on a test, marking the incorrect answer, and flagging your mistake to the world. I wasn’t a mistake, and I wasn’t about to be scribbled over and forgotten; I was more than that. Elle couldn’t do that to me, and I knew she didn’t intend to. She wanted to get back together with me... subconsciously, but still.
“Ah, cool,” I nodded.
“Yeah. Based on everything I’ve heard, you’re already a favorite on the team, now all you have to do is prove that you can play, and they’ll love you!” Ha! Prove that I can play. What a joke.
“So, what position do you play?”
“I’m actually the quarterback,” he said, bringing a clear glass up to his mouth, and downing it.
“Oh, that’s awesome!”
“Yeah. You know there aren’t a lot of freshman on the team.” No shit! Really? Did he mean to say that it’s I don’t know... a big deal that I’m on the team? I had no idea! Oh wait, yes I did!
“I know,” I said, resisting my initial responses.
“Was that your girlfriend you were talking to?” he asked, his eyes roaming around the room, not focussing on me.
“The blonde?”
“Yeah.”
“No! Absolutely not!”
“She’s cute.”
“If you like crazy chicks,” I mumbled.
“Uh huh,” he said, staring at someone, or something behind me.
“Nick!” Elle’s familiar voice yelled, as she staggered over to us.
“Elle!” I said enthusiastically.
“W-what was in the dr-rink you gave me?” she demanded.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“R-right. I’m not feel-ling well!” she stammered.
“That’s too bad. Do you need to go home?” I asked.
“I d-don’t know. I feel d-dizzy. The room’s sp-pinning!” she slurred. So Elle was the dizzy type. I would’ve never guessed it!
“I’m sorry, man, awesome talking to you, I’ll see you around, but I really have to get her out of here,” I told Jett.
“Yeah, sure. You do what you gotta do. We should really hang sometime!” he said, smiling.
“Sounds great!” I said, grabbing hold of Elle’s arm before she collapsed.
“Nick!” she complained.
“Go to the car, I’m gonna go find John. You can make it to the car, right?” I asked.
“Y-yes! Idiot!” she said, slinking out of my grip, and floating off to the door. My eyes traced the room for John, and he was talking to a group of a guys. I slowly walked over to them, and quickly grasped the focal point of their conversation: golf. John was such a loser. Who talks about golf at a party?
“John! We have to go! Elle’s… tired!” I yelled over the now heated debate about the world’s most boring sport.
“Okay. Bye g-” he started, only to be cut off.
“Hey are you Nick Ross?” one of the guys asked.
“Yes, I am,” I smirked. “John, let’s go!” I started walking to the general area of where people were retreating.
“Nick! Where’s Elle?” Jake asked, right before I could reach the door.
“I think she’s sleeping upstairs,” I said, as he nodded to go look. I opened the door, avoiding the walls lined with people indulging themselves in heated make out sessions, and other forms of affection. I kept walking, until I was safely out of the apartment, and in the lobby; John following a safe distance behind the entire time.
“Do you know who that was?” John asked, as we pushed open two glass doors simultaneously, safely exited the building.
“Nope,” I said, not really listening. I continued to walk, praying that Elle was okay.
“That was Tim Langston!” he said, as I quickened my pace.
“Great.”
“You don’t know who that is?”
“Nope. Should I?” I asked, stepping onto a grassy like surface that I took to be grass, despite the lack of light around us.
“He’s a major skier,” John said, as I took a brisk look up at the night sky, glossed with stars and helicopters above.
“At Harvard?” I questioned, continuing to admire the miraculousness of the twilight that surrounded us.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Great for him.”
“He knew who you were.”
“A lot of people do,” I said, as I made contact with the dark tar of the road. My feet took me to where we had parked the car, and I peered into the window of the locked car, to see Elle fast asleep. Let the fun begin!