My Little Bird

Part Six

“You are not wearing that tonight.”

Josie stood grimacing at me from my door as I met her eyes in the body-length mirror. I suddenly felt defensive about my jeans and casual shirt. “What? Why?”

“Dress up, Harps,” she sighed exasperatedly, plopping down on my bed.

I examined her in her strapless black dress that hovered over her thighs, then took in the cat ears and badly-drawn eyeliner whiskers on her face. It took several seconds to click in my head why she was a cat, and then I groaned.

“Please don’t tell me this is a dress up party for Halloween.”

Josie was beaming. “It’s only a few days away now! Of course it’s a dress up party, twat.”

It took a lot of resisting, arguing and pushing, but Josie finally got me into one of her own white dresses to be a zombie bridesmaid or something. Then Ella  ushered in the room with pots of make-up and they both spent their time dolling me up to make my face appear zombie-like. When they were satisfied, they high-fived, and I sighed.

“I hope you know how uncomfortable I feel about this.”

They ignored my complaints all the way to the party. We walked because there was seven of us (I wasn’t surprised that Jenny was staying behind) and I tried to ignore the fact that most of them had dressed to reveal plenty of skin. It make me even more edgy.

The party was being held in one of the rented student apartments. The entire house was alive with music and loud voices when we arrived; people were hanging around and smoking outside, acknowledging us with nods and eye-fucking as we shuffled in. I ignored as many gazes as possible. Inside, the heat was overwhelming, and I couldn’t begin to understand how so many people could fit into one apartment. It felt like every one of the year one students was inside, even though that was physically impossible.

“Remember,” Josie said in my ear, having to raise her voice over the pumping music. “Let loose and relax! Enjoy yourself.”

I turned around, but she was already off, disappearing into the mass of bodies. I sighed.

The girls had all dissolved into the crowd so I was alone, and my head was already throbbing. This was why I didn’t enjoy parties; the buzz of alcohol enveloping the teenagers surrounding me was making me feel shifty and awkward. It seemed like people from all sides were already drunk, laughing, screaming and falling over each other in tears. It was like I had stepped out of my reality and into a nightmare of unfamiliar faces and sweaty bodies.

“Hey gorgeous, you come with anyone tonight?” a husky voice slurred behind me. There was a tall boy standing there, muscular and clearly drunk off his face.

I smiled politely, trying not to groan. “Sorry, not interested.” I turned to walk away but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back with surprising strength.

“Babe, you’re smoking,” he grinned and held me so close that I could feel his hot breath on my face. He reeked of alcohol.

I tried to struggle away but his grip didn’t loosen. “Let me go,” I snarled, losing any ounce of patience.

He didn’t let go. He leaned impossibly closer, holding my furiously writhing body close to his chest, and grinned wickedly. “Kiss me.”

“No,” I hissed. My arm reached up to slap him but he grabbed my wrist with his free arm before it connected with his face.

I began to panic as he crashed his lips against mine in some drunken haze of passion. Powerless, I refused to kiss him back, closing my eyes tightly and praying that this would end, but the muscle-man just kept on kissing me with furious passion and blind lust. For once in my life, I was subject to weakness, and I hated it.