The One Who Drives You Home

As soon as my cup had been emptied of its contents, I was itching to go. My mum, of course, had other ideas, taking her sweet time whilst small talking with Gerard. The urge to bang my head on the table repeatedly was almost overwhelming.

The weather didn't help matters either, turning from blustery to sideways rain. No-one was in any hurry to go out in that.

As I sat drawing patterns into the foamy dregs at the bottom of my mug, conversation turned to me. I gripped my wooden stirrer-come-drawing tool tightly as my mum told the Way brothers stories of England.

Now, bear in mind that I was just thirteen years old when I left England. Ergo, there are very few non-humiliating stories to tell from those days.

"...and there was her school performance!" Mum please... "She was the Pied Piper. I still remember her solo, we practiced it over and over..."

She took a deep breath - as if she were to begin singing - so it was time for me to intervene.

"Okaaaay mum, every kid is in a school performance. They're like compulsory."

"Gerard played Peter Pan in his," Mikey piped up. My eyebrows steadily moved up towards my hairline. I could see by Gerard's face that Mikey was not getting out of this one pain free, but I probed nonetheless.

"Peter...Pan..? As in, the boy who never grew up?"

Gerard gave a curt nod.

I don't care how awkward the situation had been before; laughter bubbled out of me before I could get a handle on it. "Oh Gerard!" I gasped, clutching the stitch in my side, "but you were born old!"

Everyone gave a slight giggle at my handicap, and I slowly returned back to normal human behaviour.

"We have it on VHS somewhere," Mikey let slip after everything had gone quiet. My eyes lit up and this time I didn't miss the not-so-discreet kick Gerard had aimed at his brother.

Eventually the drinks started depleting and it was time for us all to leave (but not before I'd requested that Mikey hand me a copy of that video). The awkwardness had well and truly returned when it was time to say our goodbyes. Although Mikey was probably the most outgoing I'd ever seen him, his brother just stared with brooding eyes. I said goodbye to both of them, then we went our separate ways; mum and I to the boutiques, the Way brothers (most likely) to the comic book store.

I had no sooner stepped through the door of my home when my phone began to ring. Firstly Taylor, informing me that she wanted everyone at her house for eight o'clock, and no later (which is rich, coming from her). Then Charlotte got in touch, telling me that she was able to pick me up. After the two half hour phone calls, I could finally head upstairs to prepare myself for tonight. The cold that had been setting in on Friday had thankfully held off, but that didn't stop me from sniffling as I packed my things into a small yellow duffle.

Once my straighteners, clothes, pyjamas, makeup, hair products and toiletries were crammed into my bag, I decided to run downstairs to grab something to eat. There was no doubt that pizza would be on the cards tonight, but knowing Taylor's organisational skills, it wouldn't be arriving until at least eleven o'clock.

Soon, Charlotte was rolling up outside my house. I rushed out of the door, calling back to my mum that I would see her in the morning whilst juggling with my jacket and my too-heavy-for-one-night-away bag. My friend waved at me from her tiny red car (I was no good with car names, so that's the best description I can give you) as I hurried towards it through the chilling wind. Whilst throwing my bag onto the back seat, I noticed a CRATE of alcohol sitting there, seat belt on and everything. When I questioned, Charlotte simply replied with, "safety first!" but that wasn't what I was asking.

Taylor's house looked almost deserted when we arrived; I guess we were the first there. I skipped up to the front door and opened it (there was no need for formalities such as knocking or ringing the bell with Taylor) and found the petite blonde girl sitting on her living room floor, hair styling products scattered around her with a mirror propped up against the TV stand. She was still wrapped in a towel, straightening her fringe.

"Hi guys!" She said, not looking up from her task, "you're early."

"Tay, it's ten past eight..." Charlotte sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Really?!" Taylor gasped, quickly getting to her feet and becoming tangled in the wire of her straighteners. She cursed, detangling herself. "I've gotta go get changed," she said, turning on her heel and rushing to the stairs. As she did, I picked up the straighteners that she'd left hanging precariously off the glass coffee table. That girl was so ditzy; I'd be surprised if we made it through the night without causing some kind of damage to the house. Especially with Charlotte's cocktail crate.

Six shots of Malibu, too many cocktails to count and two jägerbombs later, I was defiantly choosing truth in game of truth or dare. Mainly because dares meant moving, and I didn't think moving would be such a good idea until my head had stopped spinning.

"Is there anything going on between you and Dean?" Ebony asked, her senses suddenly sharp.

"Haha! That's an easy peasy one - no." I giggled as I answered, they could have thought up far more juicy questions than that.

"But why?" Ebony whined.

"Because he's a creep."

"But he's interested in you!"

"Too interested - he won't leave me alone! Plus he's threat - he uh...treats me weird."

"What do you mean?" Taylor joined in.

I was too drunk for this conversation, but I gave it a shot anyway. "Like, he's obsessed. It kinda freaks me out a bit."

"Yeah, but so what? He's into you!" Ebony continued her whining.

"No Ebs, I'm with Evie on this one. If he's creeping her out that much, she should probably stay away from him." I mentally thanked Charlotte for saving the day. My heart lifted even further when Taylor agreed.

So that was Ebony off my back for a while...

Taylor was up next. She chose truth (most likely for the same reasons I did) and the most obvious of questions was asked - is she seeing anyone. Her sheepish expression told everyone what they needed to know, but we had to probe her further.

"So who is it?!" Charlotte asked excitedly.

"Just some guy I met at the mall."

"You met a guy at the mall? Can you actually leave your house without meeting someone?" I giggled. It was true, Taylor was always finding people in the most random of places. It's like guys were just kind of drawn to her. I mean, she was pretty easy, so that probably had something to do with it, but she was always so full on. Taylor was the kind of person that would fall in love after two hours. She'd have their wedding planned out by the fourth hour.

"But he's not like all the others!" Taylor argued, "he's sweet."

The look in her eyes told us that he was, indeed, different to all the others. The fact that she described him as "sweet" was another clue. Maybe she had actually found someone worthwhile...

"So what's his name?" Charlotte sat with her elbows resting in her lap, propping her head up with her fists. She was eagerly leaning towards Taylor.

"Frank," Taylor scrunched up her face in embarrassment. Charlotte and I let out an 'awwww'.

"Can we meet him?!" I practically begged.

Taylor shrugged, "I don't know, maybe, he's kind of shy."

Ebony had stayed quiet through this entire interrogation. I vaguely noticed that her expression was that of one chewing a wasp, but I never gave any thought as to why she would be so pissed off.

After a few more questions, Charlotte and I had decided that we approved of this Frank. He was apparently short, but that suited Taylor fine as she was tiny - even in comparison to me. He was local but didn't go to our school. His hair was brown, his eyes were hazel, his skin was pale and he had a tattoo (every detail was important to us). After Taylor's description of his looks and personality, neither Charlotte nor I could contain our excitement. We just had to meet him. Now.

Of course that never actually happened, and instead we reluctantly moved on to another person and another topic.

***

The next day I awoke feeling surprisingly refreshed. I rolled out of the double bed I had been sharing with Charlotte and Taylor with no hint of a hangover. After scraping myself together a breakfast of burnt toast with peanut butter, it became evident that the other girls had not been as lucky as I was.

When I re-entered Taylor's room, I saw Ebony looking decidedly sorry for herself as she sat slouched in her chair, her head resting on the arm of the chair. Taylor had almost made it out of bed, but seemed to have passed out again before she could move her feet from beneath the comforter and Charlotte was already sitting against the wall next to Taylor's en suite, a slight shade of green. I couldn't help but giggle at the sight in front of me as I flopped back down on the bed, toast in hand.

"What are you so happy about?" Charlotte groaned from her place on the floor.

That was a good question - what was I so happy about? I had a secret friendship with the school's nutcase that my friends could absolutely-under-no-circumstances find out about and was being blackmailed by the school's Casanova to keep it a secret, all at the cost of my not-so-virtuous virtue. That is no reason to be happy at all, but for some reason I was. To answer my friend's question, I shrugged, saying, "I woke up without a hangover?"

To that, she gave a groan of disapproval, before slouching sideways and crawling into the bathroom. We didn't see her again for another hour.

The silence of the my other two friends gave me a while to properly reflect on my current social situation. To start with the good, my friends were off my back about Dean and now also thought that he was a weirdo. That worked out well for me, I guess. Charlotte in particular did not take lightly to guys getting too full on, and would almost certainly not let the guy anywhere near me ever again. Taylor was not as aggressive, but would definitely be there to offer emotional support if I ever needed it (not that I ever would - I can handle that sex-crazed maniac quite well on my own). Ebony would have no input, but no one cares about her opinion anyway, despite what she believes. Gerard was the only problem in this equation. Once he found out what the terms of Dean's offer were, would he keep quiet? Or would be confront Dean? That could end badly for the both of us if it gets enough publicity. And then there was the matter of the actual blackmail. How the hell was I going to get out of it? I couldn't go to Charlotte for protection, or Taylor for support, and I most certainly could not go to Gerard. His temper would ruin everything. So who was left? The police? Well that would be awkward to explain, and even more awkward when the parents got involved. Maybe I should just shut up and hope Dean forgets. Or gets bored. Or moves away to a desert island. Aw fuck I'm screwed.

Notes

So...hi...

This is awkward.

Over a year since I updated, huh?

Well...I graduated!

...And I got a job!

I've only gone and grown up D: