Twisted Love

Chapter 9

As James pushes past the people in the crowd, I make sure to grip his hand as tight as I can, because I do not want to lose him. I wonder for a brief moment if Cristiano is looking for me in the middle of the party or if he is on the roof, guessing I will try to meet him there; I hope so dearly it is the latter.

I am pulled from my thoughts when I accidentally step into a small puddle of whatever mixture someone spilled. I groan and pull James' hand as a signal to stop in an attempt to wipe off my feet with something. He stops and turns to me, then lets go of my hand. It is now I realise we just entered an emptier part of the house, finally.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his drink still in hand.

"Nothing, I just stepped into some juice or whatever and I need to wipe it off somewhere," I say, looking around for something.

"Here, just use my handkerchief," he says, and pulls out the piece of cloth from his back pocket and hands it out to me.

I mutter a thank you before taking it and cleaning my feet. When I am finished, he does not want it back- of course- and it takes all my strength to just leave it on the floor and help to litter the place. Before I think about what I am doing, I take James' hand as a signal that I am ready to continue to the roof again.

He does not move, though, but rather he stares at me. His eyes pierce through mine as if they are searching my soul for all my memories, thoughts, feelings and secrets. It is just a peaceful moment, and even though I should, I do not find it in any way awkward or intimate.

We snap out of our trance when Cristiano's voice startles us and I snap my head in the direction of the sound. "Hey!"

He is standing with his hands raised in a questioning manner, and his face is filled with a mixture of confusion, anger, and what I would like to think of as jealousy. He begins to strut over towards us and I instantly let go of James' hand.

"Cris, I-" I am cut off.

"What the hell? What's happening here? Why the hell are you staring lovingly into her eyes? This isn't a f.ucking fairytale. She doesn't like you, and I told you not to mess with what is mine!" Cristiano shouts, which earns a few stares.

James shakes his head and a sinister chuckle slips from his lips. "You know what Ronaldo? You have a f.ucking problem. You need to stop claiming what's not yours, as your f.ucking own!"

"Yes, you're right James! I have a f.ucking problem and it's f.ucking you! You're always in my f.ucking way and I'm f.ucking tired of it! And now you've brought back my swearing problem," he finishes quietly, probably trying to calm himself down.

I cannot just stand here and watch this play out and not do anything.

"Can the both of you just stop it? I don't get why you're always at each other's throats! Cristiano! James is my friend. And James, Cris is mine. If you both can't accept that I'm friends with both of you, then maybe I shouldn't be friends with either of you at all," I spit and shake my head.

I turn around in search for an exit and give them one last look before heading straight for it, behind Cris across the room.

As I enter a more crowded room, I realise that one of my theories tonight came through: what if something happens and they both stop talking to me? Damn.

Maybe I should get half wasted. Yea, I think I should. Wait! How will I get home? I'll just call a cab, I brought some emergency money with me. With a little confidence and doubt in the back of my mind, I head to the kitchen to get somhead while giggling quor. After about fifteen minutes of searching, I finally find the kitchen. The counters are lined up with different hard liquors: rums, gins, vodkas, whiskies, brandies, tequilas and even waters. There are also some sodas opposite the liquors but on the other hand- this place is like a liquor store- and there's no doubt that there's another set waiting to be put out. I decide on a tequila which surprisingly doesn't have much of an effect on a low alcohol tolerant like myself; I don't want to get completely wasted with no one to look after me.