Oreo Ice Cream

Chapter 18| Roller-coaster

Song for this chapter:

Sparks Fly- Taylor Swift

Red- Taylor Swift

That's What Love Is- Justin Bieber

Later that day, I was too tired to do anything. Mum was, as usual, not at home. And I thanked God silently because I really didn't have any mood to say or talk about anything. The nerves were still buzzing inside my head-I couldn't just focus on my essay or Algebra now. So I closed my books, arranged the loose sheets and pens on my study table, and went to bed early-without even changing into pajamas.

A picture hung on the cream wall of my bedroom: a photo of Tristan and me grinning at each other at the party. A random click, but that's what made it worth it. More than that, this dark party at Tristan's house was the one that changed the whole axis of our friendship. It was a party thrown by Jane, and I reached there by seven. Since Mum was busy with her new project, she couldn't come along. Jane was seemingly upset, but the time I gave her the flushing roses and apple pies Mum had sent for them as a gift-she was brimming in delight and even munched a pie away then and there.

"Hey, black jeans fan!" Tris's voice came, dripping in excitement as he descended the staircase and approached me. I gently waved at him.

"Jesus, I'd have cried if you had worn your black jeans!" He rolled his eyes and grinned. His hair was natural blonde then: a touch of gold to his dark fringes swept in a messy style. "You came here alone?" He ran his hand through his thick hair.

"I'm fifteen, Tristan. You sound like Mom." I rolled my eyes before stuffing my hands into my coat pockets. Jane kept the bouquet on the wooden-carved round table, "Excuse me, guys. Enjoy!" She winked at me before flipping her honey-brown hair back and moving inside.

Tris's leather jacket brushed my peach peacoat sleeves. The air smelled sweet and spicy-a rich combination of rose petals, vanilla, and white wine. The constant change of the flashing purple, red, yellow, and green lights made the environment slurry like we were already drunk. Tristan didn't talk, but I noticed him waving at some boys.

I looked at him, "Jane seems more exuberant than you are!" He stretched his lips into a wide smile before narrowing his eyes at me playfully. I inhaled before looking at the front again.

"Uh-huh. Uhm, you want some wine?" He gestured to me at the bar. We were fifteen, and if Mum had been here, she wouldn't have allowed me to drink. "Drunk people are stupid and useless. While you consider songs or books an escape from reality, wine is considered one. But if you get into it once, they will trap you." She'd say to me all the time. To me, the smell of champagne has always been horrible.

"No, no," I scrunched my nose and smiled, "I'm good."

"Hey up, Flora!" A voice boomed into my ears as I jumped at it, almost hitting Tristan's broad chest. His hands came to my shoulders to keep me stable.

"Lee!" I hugged him before pulling away and glancing behind him. He came alone, I guessed. The flashing lights showed the dimple on his right cheek. His hair was honey-brown and damp in snow.

"How come you-" He glanced at Tristan, who was busy talking with some other guys. They were the scandalous guitarists, minus Tris. Scandalous to me because they didn't show or even feign any interest in studies but in pretty girls and songs. Even though I wasn't much into their song covers, they played guitars really well.

"Oh, I thought not to disappoint Jane this time, at least when Mom's gotten beautiful flowers and freshly baked pies for her." I grinned before rubbing my clammy hands on my skinny jeans. Hang on-I was sweating. Was this nausea? Or something you called agoraphobia? Because I wasn't your regular partygoer.