Call Me Six

46: 'Sober' -Tris

TRIS-

"Tris," he said, his lips tracing the sounds across my skin. "You don't know how long I've waited to do this." I could only just hear him, the combination of the music and holler was deafening in the bar.

It was unexpected - but not unpleasant. His lips touched mine, the soft stubble on his face grazing my cheek in the fluid movement. I almost forgot we were still stood atop the bar. He tasted like alcohol and cigarettes. Not the most appealing thing but sensation was addictive.

And then I was pulled off the bar and planted firmly into the floor by a pair of strong arms.

Before me stood Tobias, a strange fury burning behind his eyes.

"What the fuck, Tobias!"

He stood there, choking on words. "I- I-"

"Go home."

"Tris-"

"Get out of here before the bouncer kicks you out."

He turned towards the door, and sure enough, Steve was already making his way over. I watched as he left, and sent Steve a quick shrug before turning back to the bar.

"Mike," I muttered, scanning the crowded room quickly, "we need to get back to work." Of course it was a lie. Harvey doesn't care what we do as long as the drinks are flowing and customers pay. But Michael was tonight's target, and he'd been drinking heavily already so the job was gonna be simple.

"You're such a tease... I bet you don't have the slightest idea about what you do to men though, Tris." His voice was playful, filled with excitement but still the same calmness and control that made girls drool.

He was perfect. Everyone's perfect heartthrob. He was the home-run to this entire plan. 

Michael winked before hopping off the bar, swiftly picking up another bottle of tequila and proceeding to return to tending the bar.

It was hectic, tonight. Everyone just blurred together. You could try to recognise a face in the crowd but would fail each and every time.

"Tris!" Michael shouted. "You want another?" he said, hoisting a vodka bottle in the air.

"When have I ever said no?!" I replied and grabbed the glass as he slid it along the bar. He poured himself one and we drank. Well... He did at least. I held it for a few moments before quickly spitting it out into the empty beer bottle.

~

We ended up leaving Harvey's earlier than usual. One of the girls - Tash - couldn't quite hold her alcohol tonight and was sick behind the bar. "Take her home," Harvey had said. "Make sure she's safe." So we got stuck with babysitting duty. At least it was better than cleanup duty.

I put Natasha to bed, whilst Michael fetched some water and some aspirin for when she woke up and then we left.

It was only two in the morning when we were traipsing through the town, chanting along to song lyrics and slowly, slowly making our way to his house.

It's almost over, I thought. One more night, Tris and it'll be over. Michael is the one. The final one that will drive them mental. You see, the reason Michael was 'the one' was because - as I'd discovered a few weeks ago - he'd managed to get a senior girl pregnant last year - when he was a junior - and was only shown the lighter side of sleeping around. She didn't graduate. She didn't get into the college she wanted to. Her future came to an abrupt halt and her family rejected her. She was called a whore, and a slut, because she got pregnant. But the real problem... She denied he was the father. She wanted to protect a stupid, irresponsible, sixteen-year-old boy who wouldn't wear a condom because it felt better without.

The only reason I even knew this was because of one evening, Michael and I were in charge of closing up for the night at Harvey's, and he'd decided to raid the vodka supply. Michael was shitfaced. He told me the entire story, passed out in the kitchen and forgot the whole thing.

Finally, we arrived at the small apartment he lived in with his mother. "She isn't in tonight," he'd informed me earlier.

And it happened so quickly. Seconds after we were through the threshold, I was pressed up against the - now closed - door, his lips attaching to my neck. It must have been the nerves bubbling inside me as my heart raced, my lungs unable to keep up as I gasped for breath. His hands slipped down, tracing the line where my shorts stopped and the flesh was exposed. His thumbs hooked into the belt loops; pulling me closer as if we weren't already touching enough. And then his hands dropped again, long fingers hooking inside the black denim, tracing against the bare skin of my but.

"You don't know how long I've waited, Tris."

He moved again, his fingers hooking under my underwear, tracing along the seems.

"It's my turn now."

I was paralysed. No thought could pass through my mind.

"Y-you're drunk," I said, trying to push him off slightly. 

"Nah, babe. You're not the only one that knows the spitoon trick." I could feel him grinning against my skin. And when he looked up, his eyes were alight with something I'd never seen before. "I'm perfectly sober."