Head in the clouds.

Chapter Two.

I allowed my feet to lie flat on the ground; the music pulsed through me matching the exact erratic beat of my heart, the vibrations coursed up my legs, though my body and to my finger-tips. My mouth was distastefully dry but in that moment, with lights dimmed and people distracted within their own conscience drunken bubbles, all I could focus on was her. Our unintentional staring match had tapped into the tiny un-intoxicated fraction of my messy brain, reminding me how to walk and talk, a couple a minutes ago a toddler could have beaten me in a test of basic human survival requirements, but now I was focused on yet another unobtainable goal. Cara was still dancing, swaying her hips rhythmically with the beat of the music, that trademark mischievous grin plastered wide across her face illuminating her striking features with a gorgeous, precious glow.  Even if I was stone sober I could have never made that slow walk towards her with stable legs and even breathing, one foot in front of the other felt as difficult as a type rope walk over a one-hundred foot drop and both of my safety nets were passed out on my couch. I exhaled as deeply as my lungs would allow forcing out the nerves.

“Hey, I’m Jess.” I lamely shouted over a guitar solo.

“I’m Cara, come dance!” Her words resonated her free spirit.

 She turned and as swiftly as if she had been planning it for weeks she grabbed me and pulled me into the dance at the exact moment the chorus kicked in again. Uncomfortable and awkward at first, I was just trying to keep my distance so that if worst came to worst, you know vomiting and such, I could get out of there, but after a while my body went on autopilot and the music poured into me overpowering my nerves and lack of confidence for the first time all night I felt fully care free.

After a while I decided I was probably dehydrating, I  mean I was dancing with the most beautiful girl on the planet and all my mind kept  relaying was “Yuck what’s that awful taste, I should probably drink something, actually my lips are really dry. Water, water, water, water.  You’re not a cacti you need to be constantly hydrated, you’re defiantly dying.” So I nodded over towards the kitchen in the hopes that Cara understood what I meant, and I frolicked over to the sink. The kitchen was relatively quiet, which was strange because the majority of my drunken friends usually stick close to the fridge like they’re Rose clutching bed frame after the sinking of the Titanic, but no one was there so I chugged my water as elegantly as one can when their throat feels like the organ version the beach. Once I was  done hydrating I turned back hoping to see Cara at a loss without my presence, but it turns it can’t have been much of a loss because she was already allowing some guy to stick his tong down her throat, he must have been quick with the introductions. As I stared at the ghastly sight of his face pressed firmly against hers I felt the familiar pang of jealousy and frustration that drove me to write my first book; the perks of being a writer is that inspiration comes even when you want to punch someone in the face, sometimes you can even have both. My legs felt weak and not in the butterfly lovey way, in the holding myself back from turning savage is slowly paralysing me way. I felt the overwhelming urge to punch something and seen as hitting the guy could result in me accidentally hitting Miss Delevingne, my only option was the wall because I sure as hell wasn’t punching the fridge (it could upset the food, at least food is loyal). I was just about to do just that when Cara pushed away the guy’s shoulders and slapped him across the face, her face contorted into a mask of anger.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing creep?” She screamed directly in his face.

“Just having fun babe.” He cockily retorted.

Now I knew exactly what was happening that douche had forced himself on Cara whilst my back was turned. Seen as it was my party I felt the social and emotional obligation to escort him out, but he was also a dirt bag so before the calm recommendation that he exit the premises I strode up to him and punched him square in his charming, heart breaking, chiselled jawed, angular featured, alluring face causing him to fall backward onto Ryan who was now lying on the floor after sliding off the couch. Ryan woke up immediately and his mind must have sensed the hostility because he kicked the dude off of him and jumped up into a fighting stance.

“What’s going on?”  He asked his eyes wild and alert. I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“He’s trying to start a fight with you.” I blurted out. At that Ryan picked the guy up by his shirt and dragged him outside, saving me the effort of manual labour. I could feel the goofy, childlike smile imprinted upon my face at that small victory, it even momentarily numbed the pain of my throbbing knuckles. I whirled around to face Cara, her face was un-readable, completely void of emotion, and her shoulders were squared defensively with her feet planted next to each other. I had no clue whether she was going to laugh or cry. Instead she did neither she look me dead in the eyes and mumbled.

“I, uh, have to go.” And that she did, leaving her model friends behind without a seconds glance. My face had gone slack and my body loose from shock, luckily I shortly recovered my composure and followed her out into the cold night, despite what they say about us Brits if something goes wrong or someone is hurt we don’t hesitate to apologise, it’s built in our DNA.

“Cara I’m so sorry!”  My voice echoed throughout the hallway chasing her, just as I was.

The sheer force of the wind outside was enough for me to consider going back inside and curling up in bed, but my brain fought against my natural instinct and I knew I couldn’t let the night end like this. Her legs were longer than mine so she had gained a considerable amount of ground as she charged to the end of the street with an un-nerving amount of composure and grace. I jogged down the street not wanting to attract too much attention to myself and Cara just in case things got ugly. A couple of strides away from her I considered grabbing her wrist or something but then I concluded that she had probably been groped enough by strangers for one night, so I used my slurred words instead.

“Cara, please.” I panted from the effort of walking in a straight line. “I need to talk to you, I’m sorry!”

As the words tumbled out my mouth her pace slowed down and when she reached an elaborate set of steps leading to some random’s apartment she sat down on the second step, she tapped the space next to her so I sat down too. The stone of the steps was freezing but that didn’t bother me one bit because with the angle Cara’s face was aimed at the moon the light cascaded upon it perfectly highlighting her natural, effortless beauty. All of the sounds from across the street, the loud music, the laughter, the arguments, all of the voices surrounding us faded out as she took a breath.

“I’m sorry for just walking out.” She began, her words trembled. “but when people think they can do that, just because they think they know me from what they’ve read or watched, it frustrates me so much. I try to be strong and ignore all the crap people believe about me but when people act like that asshole did…  I just wished I’d have punched him. Does nobody understand that I decide what I do, where I go, how I act.” She paused and looked over at me; he eyes two watery blue lakes. “Who I kiss” My breathing stopped as she closed the distance between us, her lips collided with mine in a deep moment of passion, sparks flew as our mouths moulded with each other’s, fitting together like two puzzle pieces and it was as if time slowed down, as if the world had paused so the universe could witness this moment.

It stopped as quickly as it started, gasping for breath my eyes open, hers closed. After that my body shutdown unable to continue to handle the overload of emotion currently coursing through my veins, so I did the only thing my good for nothing Mother had taught me how to do. Leave without looking back.. Butterflies swirled and soared in my stomach and I felt as awake as I had been in years, but my legs wouldn’t stop moving and my brain wouldn’t stop blocking out my attempts to turn around. I could hear movement behind me as I felt a hand pass through mine, and if I had just gripped that hand I could have stopped the trance I was in. I kept  moving with only one emotion pounding my body to piece, regret, not for letting her kiss me but for not being strong enough to stay.  I reached my apartment building moments later and I’m not sure whether it was a trick of the wind or my mind hearing what it wanted to hear but in the silence I heard a deafening husky, sexy British accent say,

“This defiantly is not the end.”

And then I walked in side only hesitating to convince myself I was either drunk or dreaming,