The Ideas That Didn't Make It

Aimee's Party - TWO

Finally, after dragging all day, school came to an end, and I was given my freedom.

I got a text from Becca saying that she would come to mine to get ready, and that her Mum thinks that she's coming to mine for the night. Her Mum is lovely, don't get me wrong, but she can be a tad strict when it comes to her darling daughter being a teenager.

Placing my earphones in my ears and cranking up Bastille, I began to walk home, my mind plagued with thoughts:

Why did I reject Dylan?

Why didn't I just say yes?

Was it because I was scared of the humiliation and awkwardness that comes from a new relationship?

Why was I such an idiot?!

That, alongside the dread I felt about the party tonight, made me just want to curl up in a ball and block the outside world out entirely.

Letting myself in, I picked up the post and kicked off my shoes, dumping my backpack at the bottom of the stairs. Mum and Dad were still at work, and my sister Helena was at a friend's house. I was all alone, apart from the pet cat  of course.

My phone beeped from my hoodie pocket, startling me slightly. Becs didn't trust me to get ready for the party on time, so she was coming round to force me.

She knows me far too well, considering all I wanted to do right now was curl up in a ball, watch a Disney film and binge on chocolate.

... Don't judge me.

Becca arrived around ten minutes later, laden with bags and makeup. "Becs, the party starts at half seven – it's half four now!"

She just looked at me. "It takes time to make art Aimee."

I just laughed, and followed her up the stairs to my room.

Dumping her things on my bed, she ran to my wardrobe. "Now, my little Barbie doll, what do I dress you in today?"

I lay down on the bed and put my hands over my eyes in exasperation, "That sounds creepy Becs."

She giggled, and I heard the sound of clothes hangers being slid across. I did trust Becca to make me look good, but she had a very girly style, and I really, really didn't.

I then didn't hear any movement, so I opened the fingers covering my eyes. Becs was holding my black skinny jeans, a white flowy top and my black pumps that I've only ever worn once. "Put these on! They're perfect!" She was bouncing on the spot with excitement now.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Fine. You get changed in here and I'll go into the bathroom."

Looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, I realised she hadn't done that bad of a job.

I looked damn good.

The pumps and skinny jeans combo elongated my legs and made them look skinnier (always a plus), whereas the top was a nice touch to the outfit.

I walked back into my room, where Becca was wearing a form-fitting burgundy dress with black knee high boots.

She looked amazing. As per usual.

"Dayum! We look good Aimee!" she squealed. Hugging me, she then gestured to the edge of my bed. "Right, let's do something with this hair of yours, hm?"

By the time she was finished, I looked amazing (if I do say so myself). My hair was lightly curled, and it fell gracefully over my shoulders. After a quick (well, I say quick, Becca doesn't do 'quick' when it comes to hair and makeup) spot of makeup, we were ready. And damn we looked good.

I had already sent a quick text to Mum asking if I could go to this party, and she had been over the moon. She's really been trying to get me out of my room and socialising with people my age. It's exasperating, but useful in some circumstances.

When Becca's brother dropped us off, I really was not ready to go in. Music pulsated from the house, and there were so many teenagers all holding bottles or little plastic cups.

Becca squeezed my arm and gave me an encouraging look.

I took one more look at my surroundings, and decided to own this thing. The music acted as a new life force; I strutted into the house, head held high and Becs following behind. We were un-bloody-stoppable.

I made my way over to the kitchen, where I grabbed myself a plastic cup and filled it with water (I had my goody goody two shoes front to keep up – don't judge). Becca had already gone to find Ryan so I was left alone: the exact thing I was scared of.

I milled about for a bit, wandering from room to room, dodging the couples making out in the corridors and on the stairs (ugh), desperately trying to find someone – anybody! - to talk to.

Eventually I found a spare seat on one of the couches, and plonked myself down on that. I was alone after my best friend ditched me, with my little plastic cup full of water. What a party animal I am.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Startled, I looked up, and Dylan was stood over me, a crooked grin on his face. "Daydreaming again?" he shouted, attempting to make himself heard over the music reverberating around the room.

I winced as I could immediately feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.

"Hey, me and some of the others are going to play Truth or Dare, are you in?" he said.

I evaluated my options before eventually agreeing, following Dylan into a separate room where a bunch of people were all sat in a circle - Becca and Ryan included. I knew them all from school, and they seemed nice enough people.

"OK! Who's going to start us off?" Eve asked.

Nobody volunteered.

"Ugh fine. I'll start. Someone ask me truth or dare." Eve said, looking pointedly at the group.

Dylan looked around, before asking Eve that exact question. "Eve, truth or dare?"

Eve took a swig of the bottle she was holding, before replying, "Dare."

"Ok. Let's start out easy. Do a headstand against the wall."

"Is that it?" Eve giggled, "Ok."

For an ex-gymnast, it wasn't exactly a difficult dare, but she completed it and looked straight at me.

She giggled, "Aimee! Truth or dare?"

I groaned inwardly. This was gonna be bad.

"Truth," I said hesitantly.

"Who do you like the most in this room? AKA your biggest crush?" I sighed and hesitated.

"Come on Aimee – rules are you have to tell the truth!" Eve goaded.

"Pass me that bottle Eve?" I gestured to the alcohol in Eve's hand, and took a long, hard chug when she handed me it. The people around me cheered as I downed a lot of the liquid, burning my throat as it slid down, providing some liquid courage.

Looking over at Becca, I saw she was giving me a concerned, yet encouraging look, smiling slightly in my direction.

I sighed again. I was going to regret saying this. "You really wanna know?" Everyone nodded.

I took one more sip from the bottle for good luck.

"Dylan bloody Hartnell."