"When I saw you the first time, I thought, 'I'm going to marry her someday'..."
– Nautica
❀❀❀
~ D O R O T H Y ~
January 1998
"Now, I've cooked enough dishes to last you five days," mother says, dragging her piece of luggage down the stairs.
"But you will only be gone for only two days," I say, standing at the bottom of the stairs and carrying a plate with a cheese sandwich sitting on it.
"Well, in the unlikely case of us missing our return flight, you will not starve."
"Oh ok."
It is about 5pm. Mother and Linda are about to leave for the airport. The taxi is outside, waiting. When mother reaches the bottom of the stairs, she rests her hands on my shoulders. Her bright green eyes examine my face affectionately.
"You and Reece have to take care of each other," she says.
At the mention of Reece, a familiar ache in my chest emerges.
"We will," I say, clearing my throat.
"Good," she says. "Oh! And keep the doors locked always. Our spare key is with Reece, and you have the spare key for Reece's house. Look after the keys, ok?"
"Yes, yes."
She lets my shoulders go and begins to rummage through her purse to check if she has everything that she will be needing; passport, ticket, money etc.. Once she is convinced that she is now officially ready to leave, she looks up at me.
"Be good," she says, before she pecks my cheek.
Just when she grabs onto the handle of her luggage and turns around, I gently hold onto her arm, stopping her. Mother faces me, furrowing her eyebrows.
One of the many things that Sister Alexa has taught me, is that when the time of farewell arrives, it is best to say the words that you would want to say if it were the last time you would be seeing them. This is so that if, God forbid, anything bad were to happen to them, at least you would not be suffering from the regret of not saying what you really wanted to say them.
Ever since mother brought me back to London, she has been nothing but patient, understanding, supportive and caring. She has respected my privacy, space and views. Even when at times she would visibly express her disapproval, she has never intervened in my affairs.
I am truly grateful for that.
"I know that we didn't have the ideal reunion," I begin, capturing her full and undivided attention. "But whatever happened in the past... It wasn't your fault. I may not show it, but I am actually grateful that you didn't forget me, that you brought me back here..."
Her expression morphs to one of shock. Her eyes, which were twinkling in excitement just a minute ago, are now becoming bloodshot. In an instant, she envelops me with her arms. I return her hug, closing my eyes.
"I am so glad," she whispers into my ear. "I was afraid that I've lost my daughter's affection forever, that I meant nothing to you..."
"No. You are important to me," I say.
She pecks the top of my head before we let go of each other.
"Now I don't feel like going," she says, wiping her eyes as she smiles widely at me.
"You have to," I say, laughing lightly. "Linda is waiting for you outside."
She nods.
"I'll miss you," I add.
"I'll miss you too."
She hugs me one more time before she and I say our farewells to each other. Once she walks through the door with her luggage, I take a bite from my sandwich and make my way to my room to get ready for Nolan's birthday party.
***
The moment Jenny, Damien and I step into Nolan's blaring mansion, the pungent smell of booze and sweat hits us. I know I vowed to never attend a bacchanal again after attending Damien's party, but now that I've befriended the boys, the party shouldn't be too bad. Plus, Jenny and I have decided to stay sober throughout the party and enjoy the night in the most sober way possible. Damien too, since he will be driving the two of us home.
The three of us walk through the maze-like mansion, with Damien escorting us as he has been here numerous of times. He is wearing black jeans, a black jumper and a diamond stud in his right ear. Jenny is wearing a black, full-sleeved dress that reaches just around her knees, black tights and a pair of long, black boots. Her jet-black hair is open and slightly curled, and her make-up only consists of a black mascara and a shiny lip gloss.
While these two are dressed as if they are to attend a funeral, I am dressed in a more colourful fashion; a maroon jumper and a pair of blue jeans. Jenny insisted that I should look 'sexier' but I, being the stubborn person that I am, declined. Because it is a very chilly January night, all of us are wearing coats and jacket.
"Enjoy the party as much as you can," Jenny says. "You won't be getting another like this until November, when it's Damien's birthday."
"What about Reece's birthday in September?" I ask.
It wouldn't be surprising if Reece throws a bacchanal on his birthday too.
"He doesn't celebrate his birthdays," Damien replies, making me frown in confusion.
...I was not expecting that.
"Why is that?" I ask.
"I don't know. He's just never been into it," he replies, shrugging.
Huh.
When we enter the crowded living room, Damien spots the members of his football team. They see Damien too, and gesture him to come over. After excusing himself, Damien goes to them.
"You should ask Reece if you're curious," Jenny says, grinning and winking at me once Damien is out of earshot.
"Yeah, yeah," I say.
I observe my surroundings; people are dancing vulgarly on top of tables, making out steamily on the couches, playing beer pong clumsily and spin the bottle on the floor.
"Well, isn't this lovely," I comment dryly, making Jenny laugh.
"Teenagers die for this," she says, gesturing to the whole atmosphere. "Have you ever been drunk, Dorothy?"
I shake my head, still observing my surroundings, overwhelmed.
"Never. But seeing all of this assures me that I'm not missing out," I reply. "How about you?"
"Once. The hangover I suffered made me vow to never get drunk again."
She and I step out into the garden through a pair of large glass doors. The crowd does not get any smaller, no matter how much we try to snake through it.
Good lord, how many people are here?
Oh right, the entire student body of Hampton.
I'm talking hundreds.
My friend and I somehow end up at an indoor swimming pool, where Nolan is dancing next to the pool with no care in the world, appearing completely wasted. When he spots us, he squeals.
"Dorothy! Jenny!" he exclaims, stumbling towards us with a bottle of alcohol in hand.
"Happy birthday, Nolan!" Jenny and I greet at the same time.
We have a group hug, with Nolan gripping onto us firmly, smelling like alcohol. When we let go of one another, he takes a huge gulp from the bottle.
"Ah," he says, content. "Anyway, it's so good to see you both here. Grab yourself a bottle or two, grow some wings and be free!"
"Thank you," I say, amused by his energetic behaviour.
I notice an older, blonde-haired guy standing a small distance away from us, carrying a massive camera.
"Nolan... Are we being recorded?" I ask.
Nolan glances at the cameraman, before he turns to me.
"Yeah. I hired this dude - his name is Ted by the way - to film me and my party for memories' sake. You turn eighteen only once, right?" he replies.
"Uh huh," I say.
"Yo Nolan!" we hear a random guy say.
Nolan faces him, waves very quickly, and turns to us again.
"Enjoy yourselves, girls," he says before he dashes away from us.
"Well the birthday boy is clearly having the time of his life," I say, turning to look at Jenny, amused.
"I guess so. It's warm in here," she says, taking off her coat.
"Yeah," I say, taking off mine as well. "Is Harris here?"
She shakes her head.
"No. He doesn't like attending this sort of parties."
I nod, remembering how Harris did not want to attend Damien's party, but did in the end because of Luna. The thought of Luna suddenly makes my stress level shoot up. It's a mystery why I have not suffered from a heart attack yet, given the amount of stress I have suffered in my life so far.
"I'm going to go get us some drinks," Jenny says, distracting me from my thoughts. "I saw some non-alcoholic beverages."
"Ok, give me your coat and I'll find us some seats," I say.
Nodding, she complies and leaves.
When I find two available seats, I dump the coats on one seat and I sit down on the other. I begin to observe my surroundings as I wait for my friend. Nolan and his friends are chugging on alcohol, but my eyes do not linger on them for too long, as they continue to scan around the area, as if searching for something – or rather someone.
My thoughts slowly drift to the last interaction I had with Reece, which was at Hampton earlier today. My heart aches at not being able to claim what it truly wants. My cheeks suddenly flush at the memory of Reece kissing my neck...
It felt so foreign...
Yet...
I did not dislike it...
Someone pokes my back.
Startled, I turn around and, unexpectedly, see Rachel Barns. She wears the same clothes that she wore here last weekend; a black beret, long brown coat, black jeans and ankle-length black boots.
"Hey Rachel! I'm glad that you could make it," I say, smiling.
"I had to. The prosperity of my play depends on me being here," she says, pushing her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. "Now where is that Nolan? I need to show myself to him and leave."
"He's by the pool. He's pretty drunk," I reply.
Rachel looks behind me before she looks at me again.
"So drunk that he just tripped into the pool?" she asks.
I nod before her words sink in.
"Wait, what?" I ask, frowning.
I whip my head around, and my eyes instantly widen.
Nolan is in the pool, barely keeping afloat. Everyone around him is too engrossed in their own pleasures to notice that he is drowning.
Before I can react and jump into the pool to save him, Rachel dashes past me, ripping open her coat and shaking it off as she does so, and dives into the pool. I run to the edge of the pool, watching in with a sinking heart as Rachel swims towards the drowning Nolan. She grabs onto him, making sure to keep his face out of the water, and brings him to the edge, where I help her pull him out.
When he is lying on the ground, I notice how his chest is still. I hover my finger tips over his lips and his nostrils. Neither of them are releasing any gust of air.
"He's not breathing!!" I say, frantic.
Rachel pulls herself out from the pool, pushes me away and analyses him. At this point, a crowd gathers around us, murmuring, curious.
"Someone dial 999!" she yells.
She then quickly places her hands on his chest, her one hand on top of the other. Then, she presses down against his chest hard repeatedly, performing CPR.
Time slows down...
With seconds feelings like minutes, and minutes like hours.
I do not realise that I am holding my breath until Nolan coughs out the water, finally breathing.
"Oh, thank god," I breathe in relief, collapsing onto the ground.
The drunk guests cheer before they get back to what they were initially doing.
"Thank god, indeed," Rachel says. "If he had not responded, I would have to have given him a mouth-to-mouth. I do not wish to have herpes. No, thank you."
Nolan's eyes flutter open, tired. He scans Rachel, recognition clear on his face.
"Barns..." he croaks.
"Are you alright?" she asks, sitting up straight, serious.
"Come closer..." he whispers, his eyelids drooping.
"What is it? Are you hurt?" she asks, nearing her face to his to hear him more clearly.
"You..."
"Yes?"
"You... You..."
"Just spit it out already!" she snaps.
"You've got big boobs," he blurts before he passes out.
I facepalm while Rachel's face turns as red as a tomato. If this were a cartoon, steam would be coming out from her ears.
"Dorothy," Rachel growls, clenching her fists. "Tell me one good reason why I should not drown this imbecile pervert right now."
"You'll end up in jail," I say nonchalantly.
"It can be an innocent accident."
"There are many witnesses. Your perfect student record will be ruined. Be prepared to say goodbye to your dream university."
"They are all drunk. No one will remember."
"Not quite," I say, pointing at the cameraman who has been lurking around us all this time.
Rachel looks at Ted in disbelief.
"Any message for the birthday boy?" he asks.
"Are you kidding me?!" she snaps at him. "He was drowning and all you did was stand here and film the whole thing!"
"...So is that a yes?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
What. The. Actual. Heck?
"For God's sake...! You know what, I actually do have a message for the birthday boy," she says, glaring at him.
"Cool. Do you want to dry up first and look... prettier?"
Is he for real...?
Rachel ignores his suggestion. She stands up and looks straight into the camera, dead serious.
"Nolan," she says. "Clearly, you were drunk."
She gestures to the passed-out Nolan, with Ted making the camera follow her index finger. She then faces the camera again.
"And you may not remember seeing me here. But, this video is proof that I actually am here. Not only have I attended your stupid party, but I also saved your life. So you better take my play seriously and not think about quitting!"
With those words, she turns around, picks up her coat from the floor, wears it and walks away.
"Wait Rachel, where are you going?" I say, standing up and following her.
"My work here is done. I am going home," she says, continuing to walk ahead and not looking at me.
"Thank you for saving him," I say loudly.
"He is the only pianist I have. I had to."
"Rachel, stop for a minute. You're soaking wet. You'll catch a cold–"
She disappears into the crowd. My shoulders slump in defeat.
If she gets sick, she better not complain to me.
"There you are!" I hear Jenny say.
I turn around and see her holding two red cups.
"I found our coats, but I couldn't find you."
I tell her what has just happened. During the conversation, a concerned Damien approaches the passed-out Nolan and, along with one of his football team members, carries him away.
"Man, I left for ten minutes and I missed so much!" Jenny whines once I finish.
"There, there," I say, patting her back and sipping on Fanta.
"Jenny," we hear a familiar voice say.
We turn our heads.
My blood boils at the sight of Luna.
Her blonde, shoulder-length hair is curly. She is wearing a full-sleeved pastel pink dress and white heels that has got to be at least five inches high. She is also wearing white hoop earrings. Overall, she looks gorgeous, but because I am aware of her true nature, she does not appear the slightest bit attractive to me.
"Hey Dorothy. I haven't seen you in a while," Luna says, smiling innocently.
She is the reason why Reece and I are not able to be how we used to be.
She is the reason why I've been in so much stress lately, especially since she witnessed Reece kissing my neck.
And that 'innocent' smile of hers is not a good sign, which stresses me even more.
Is seeing Reece kissing my neck enough for to expose my degrading photo to the entire student body?
"Yeah. It has been a while," I say through gritted teeth.
Her icy blue eyes land on Jenny.
"Leo and I are going to play beer pong, Jenny. We need one more person."
"Dorothy can–"
"I'm sure Dorothy has never played beer pong. Right, Dorothy?" she says, facing me.
I slowly nod my head. She looks at Jenny again.
"Besides, we're betting a lot of money. We can't afford to have beginners. Dorothy understands. Right?"
Again, she looks at me.
"Of course," I say, trying very hard to sound cheerful. "Go, Jenny. Have fun. Win that money."
"But I don't want to drink–"
"I'll drink for you," Luna quickly adds.
"Fine," Jenny says, pursing her lips, suspicious.
She gets up, picks up her coat and walks away with Luna, leaving me alone.
Jenny does not want Luna to know that she knows about the blackmail. That's why she acted how she usually would with Luna.
With having no one with me, I decide to explore to kill the time and boredom. So, a few minutes later, I find myself in a corridor inside Nolan's mansion, examining the many paintings hanging across the walls.
As I slowly walk down the corridor, fully engrossed, a pair of hands with long, sharp nails grab onto my arms from behind. The nails dig into my skin, making me yelp. Before I can let out a scream, another pair of hands covers my mouth. I try to break free, but a pair of firm, muscular arms wraps around my waist, and pulls me away from the paintings.
I try to break free, but alas, I am not able to. I try to scream at the top of my lungs, begging for help, but my screams come out as muffles.
I get pulled into a nearby room against my will. The acrid smell of cigarettes wrinkles my nose. The door slams shut in front of my face, and, ever so slowly, Monica walks into my sight. Still restrained by three pairs of hands whose owners I fail to see, I start to panic with wide eyes.
Monica is wearing an extremely tight shoulder-less pastel green dress, which reaches just below her butt. Her neckline dips very low, exposing her cleavage. Her blonde hair with pink streaks is in a tight pony tail. Her bright red lips stretch into a sickening grin.
"Well, well, well," she says, approaching me slowly as if I were her prey. "If it isn't the boyfriend-stealing bitch."
*~*~*~*~*
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