Eighteen Candles (you will remember me)

22.

Billie

I feel like the only thing I do is go to school, go to parties and go to Flynn's.

When exactly was the last time I did something else? Something interesting? Something exciting? Probably when I was 14 and had my first sip of alcohol. Flynn and I snuck into the kitchen, where Erik left all the glasses of red wine. Well, turned out Flynn and I don't like red wine, but we got hella drunk anyway. At least it does it's job.

"I bet 20 bucks, that Flynn comes back and stays for two days before she has to go on another trip, " Mavy jokes and takes a sip from the cup in her hand. Layla just smiles and I nod in agreement.

It's almost ridiculous that she had been on two trips in this short time. And both of them were with Gemma and that must be more of a burden than a blessing. "She's ether coming back as a beaten up victim or fully traumatized by just Gemma's company ," I say, also taking a sip from a cup Julien gave us when we interred his house. I have no idea why this boy is  still throwing all these parties.

"Oh god, cover your eyes, people. Here comes the golden boy," Layla says, stepping next to us and rolling her eyes as Blake enters the room. He's wearing sport shorts and a hoodie, looking like he just came back from running outside. His hair is ruffled through as always and his gaze looks bored. He's scanning the room slowly, stopping where we are standing.

"It's not like I would understand anyway, but he isn't even putting any effort in dressing pleasantly. This is a party, not a high class one, but still. He should at least pretend to care," Layla complains, dressed in a cute summer dress, her hair perfectly styled in two small pigtails and the rest of her straight hair loose.

Blake is still starring in our direction. At us. At me. There is no smirk on his lips today. No cheeky grin. No player eyes or whatever trick he likes to pull normally. He just stares.

"Layla the only reason you say stuff like this is cause you're not even attracted to men," Mavy tells her, slurping her cup empty. "If you weren't, you'd be all over him, like you are with Zendaya." Layla narrows her eyes at the blonde curly head but Mavy just laughs it off.

Blake breaks eye contact and rushes through the crowd towards Julien. They both talk for a second, Blake whispering something into the red head's ear and Julien patting his shoulder brotherly, nodding towards the stairs.

"I hope this night something interesting happens. Like a box fight or something. There's nothing exciting happening around here lately. I need more blood rush," Mavy grumbles somewhere next to me.

Blake walks upstairs, checking his phone one the way.

"Yeah no. You don't need a box fight, you need dick," Layla adds to the conversation.

Blake enters a room on the left, probably Julien's.

"Billie, if you keep starring at his ass, I have to assume you've fallen in the same rabbit hole as every other girl," Layla speaks directly into my ear and I turn my head.

I narrow my eyes at her. Pointing my finger at her face I grumble, "Don't you dare say something like that! I would never." Even though what I said is exactly what I think and believe in, I still wonder why the golden boy comes to a party wearing sports clothes and a dead stare on his face.

...

I don't know where everyone went but I know I am alone on this fucking dance floor and I do not like it. "Julien!" I scream the idiots name through the crowd, not even expecting an answer. "Mavy?" I try this time. Still no answer.

I sigh and make my way towards the stairs, pushing myself through the very bad smelling crowd. I have never had a problem with my height. I don't care that I am shorter than most of my friends but in situations like this I wish I had gigantic feet to kick everyone in their asses to just move them out of my way.

"Layla? Are you guys upstairs?" I try for the third time. And this is the second time I realize I don't have much friends except from Flynn. I am a mess without her. Stupid athlete trip.

Upstairs I open some doors and look for my friend. In the first room on the right two boys are making out on the guest bed. Both of them already half naked. "Sorry! I haven't seen anything! I promise!" I throw my hand over my eyes and walks backwards out of the room, shutting the door immediately. I am never going to sleep on that bed again.

The next door I open is on the left. Inside is Blake, laying totally passed out on the ground. Two bottles of vodka are laying on the floor next to him. One completely empty and the other half drunken. I think about just walking out of the room and pretending I have never seen anything but-

"Blake?" I try, still standing in the doorframe. "Hey, Blake!" I try again, a slight groan my only response. I let go of the doorknob and walk towards the passed out boy, closing the door behind me. "Blake!" I kneel down beside him and try to turn him over. Failing. "My god, what have you been eating lately?" I groan.

I smooth my hands and one feet under his body and push him over. Blake is now laying on his back, groaning in fake pain. "Hey, can you hear me?" I ask, slapping his face softly. A little less softly. He's still not responding. Now I just slap his face. "Don't fuck with me-"

Blake takes my wrist in his hand, stopping me from slapping his face again. "I am 100% in if you're into harsh foreplay but this seems like an unfitting situation for something like this, Biscuit," he mumbles. His eyes are still closed and I frown.

"How do you even know it's me?"

Blake takes my hand in his now and interlocks our fingers. Sighing he whispers, "Your very intense smell, your stupid small hand and your way too raspy voice that makes me go crazy every time you speak will always give you away, Biscuit." He chuckles a little, moving his thumb over the back of my hand.

I just watch it. I watch his movement, his lips and how they turn from a small smile into a thin line, his forehead and how it starts to wrinkle and his eyes. Big dark green eyes.

"You shouldn't be laying here alone on the ground, Blake. Come on, get up," I tell him softly, pulling on his hand -which is still holding mine- to get him up. He just sighs and opens his eyes, now directly looking into mine.

The door bursts open and a loud Julien rushes inside. "Has anyone seen- WHAT THE FUCK?! ARE YOU TWO BANGING??"

"No!" I yell and rip my hand out of Blake's grip.

"Not yet," Blake mumbles at the same time. I slap his chest. He laughs. "You cockblocker."

Julien's gaze swirls over the room, stopping at the bottles laying on the ground. "Did you drink all of those? Blake are you out of your mind?!" The red head rushes towards us and kneels next to me. "I know you had a shitty day but this is just stupid."

I turn my head to look at him. "Why, what happened?"

"My father has the opinion that torturing your child until they can't skate anymore is the best way for them to get better," Blake answers my question.

I do understand why he did that to himself. Blake is a talented hockey player but if it comes to his dad, he just isn't good enough. I have always known about the tension between him and Erik but I never felt as sorry as right now. I have never seen him like this.

"Come on, Blake, we will make this night a lot funnier for you!" Julien says enthusiastically, patting Blake's chest.

— — —

You guys already know Julien is Blake's best wingman, so be prepared for the next chapter!🤭

What do you think about the book so far? I was scared it might be too boring when I started editing the old chapters.

School starts again on Thursday and I don't know if I can keep up with posting twice a week then. But I'll try my best!

Thanks for all the support!