Damaged

One

Damaged

1

Tonight was about firsts. I was going to my first party and I wanted to look bloody hot. The jeans I was wearing clung to my slender legs like a second skin and my tank top was tight and low cut. My boots were unlaced but comfortable and my blue eyes were framed with dark, thick makeup. My hair was probably the combining feature, though. Where it had once been pale blonde, it was now dark red and fell in waves down my back.

With a smirk at my reflection, I tucked my phone into my back pocket and headed out to my motorbike. I'd traded my dad's black Mercedes for it this morning. Even though I wasn't legal yet, I had ridden on a motorbike with a friend once and when the events of last night occurred . . . I couldn't be the same person anymore. I remembered the way the ride on the bike had seemed to push my worries to the back of my mind, so I bought one.

I sped to the party and dismounted my bike. The music was blaring and as I walked in, I walked straight toward the drinks. My first drink. It was closely followed by a second and a third. As my head began to spin and my worries left me, I heard people murmuring about me. Who is she? What's she doing here? That's Scarlett Crevincey. That's Scarlett? What happened?

I didn't care. The alcohol had dulled my senses. I had let go of all my worries and fears. I used to try so hard for people to accept me. Now I didn't want them to. When he came back, he threw the life I'd tried so hard to make perfect out the Goddamn window.

Letting the alcohol guide me, I downed another shot and climbed on top of the snooker table. Throwing my hands up, I began to sway and shake my hips to the music. I was laughing – really laughing – until a hand clamped down on my wrist and pulled my off the table. A pair of strong arms caught me and I looked up into a pair of deep brown eyes.

"You're my hero!" I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He led me wordlessly up the stairs and even in my inebriated state, I knew what he wanted. I wasn't scared and I didn't mind. God knew I'd had worse.

That was three years ago. Since then, people seemed to have forgotten the goody-goody I used to be. I rode my bike to school every day and took up smoking the day after that first party. The guy had taken me to the arcade down at the local shopping centre the next morning. He could tell I was still adjusting to my new life and when he'd offered me a joint, I hadn't refused.

Now, Mary-Jane was my go-to drug for stress relief. My mum obviously didn't approve. She said she didn't know what had gotten into me. I laughed. Of course she didn't. No one did.

I woke up on the last day of summer on the floor. The aching of my back told me I'd probably spent half the night there and the pounding of my head told me I'd drunk maybe a little too much. I stood, ruffled my messy hair, and searched the kitchen – where I had been sleeping – for my shoes. I found one on the foot of a half-naked blonde and the other in the cupboard under the sink.

I pulled my hairband off my wrist and braided my hair down my back, then exited the house and rode home. I didn't plan to stay long. Aaron was going to meet me at the arcade with the boys and JC was supposed to have the weed I asked him to get for me.

I rushed through the house, hoping to God that I didn't wake up mum. I didn't care about disturbing her rest, but I didn't feel like going head-to-head with her in my hungover state.

I showered and dressed in a pair of faded and ripped skinny jeans, a tank top, and my favourite leather jacket, slipping my boots back onto my feet. I didn't bother tying them, I just tucked the laces inside the shoes and headed out.

My phone only had nine percent battery, but I could always use Aaron's if I needed to. I sped to Peach Hills Shopping Centre, slipping off my bike and resting my helmet on the handlebar. "Hey Lettie!" JC called from the doorway of Arnold's Arcade.

"Hey JC!" I replied, walking over, "Why aren't you inside?"

He raised his hand, in which he held a fag. I nodded my understanding and he said to me, "Your face looks like shit, what where you up to last night?"

I shrugged, "Partying, man. Hey, you have my stuff?"

He nodded and we headed inside once he finished his dart. From the smell of the smoke, it was just tobacco. "So where's Aaron?" I asked. JC pointed towards the basketball hoops. Of course. "I'll catch up with you later, JC," I said, ditching him to pester Aaron.

Just as he was about to shoot another ball, I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind. "Hey Lettie," he greeted me, dropping the ball, and turning around to place his hands on my hips. With a smile, I reached my hand into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out twenty pence. I smirked and sauntered away, letting him smack my arse before he returned to his game.

We weren't together, but we did have sex at my first party and he gave me my first taste of weed. Ever since then, we'd been close friends. I made my way to the dance machine and dropped the coin inside. Then I jumped on the stage and began to dance. This was my favourite game at Arnold's and I was pretty epic at it. None of the boys could beat my high score.

When I finally screwed up, I jumped down and Mason fist-bumped me. "Nice, Lettie!" he exclaimed.

"We're going back to mine," JC's twin brother, Kai said. "You coming?"

I checked my phone. It was only midday. "Lead the way, Kai-Bear!" With that, I climbed back onto my bike, slipped my helmet on, and followed Kai to his place. I'd never been to Kai and JC's house before and I was surprised when we started heading toward the nicer area of the city.

When we pulled up outside a mansion, my jaw dropped. Getting off my bike and removing my helmet, I threw a kick at JC. "You've been holding out on us, man!" I exclaimed. "I had no idea you had this kind of money!"

From the look on Aaron and Mason's faces, neither did they. "Yeah," JC replied, "we don't like flaunting our parents' wealth in the faces of our poor friends."

I laughed. "I don't care as long as you share every now and then!"

"Well come on then!" Kai called, "Let's get this party started!" We all laughed at his cheesy cliché.