Chosen [Watty Awards 2012]

Chapter One: Awakened

Chapter One: Awakened

I’m not the type someone usually bumps into on the bad part of town.

But here I was, one of the many teenagers in line outside Frenzy, the most talked-about haunt in town. More like, the only talked-about haunt in town. Everything else to the cool crowd was too lame, too safe. But I don’t really see the appeal. The red neon sign flickered incessantly, which irritated me. The horrid odour from a nearby drain was overwhelming. If the only things to do inside were dance as though you were having a seizure to music which blared from every single space at an ear-shattering volume, or watch people dance as though they were  having a seizure, then it really wasn’t worth the wait.

I glanced beside me at Tracy, who looked like a psychotic murderer with her lips stretched into a wide grin of excitement. Her hair, usually a frizzy carroty mane, was in neat, fashionable waves. Some of her clothes were a bit uncharacteristic, too: fishnet stockings and knee-high boots and a short skirt; she had the puppy paw-prints t-shirt I’d gotten her for her birthday, though, under her older brother’s brown leather jacket. Even though I completely disagreed with the whole thing—the going to Frenzy, the dressing-up like pornstar Barbies—I had to admire Tracy’s determination.

There was only one reason that the normally on-the-safe-side Tracy Denham would step foot on the bad part of Bat Country, and I knew perfectly well who that reason is—Ryan Farrell.

Ryan Farrell, you sexy beast, you. The lean, muscular body from years and years of playing football, the blue eyes like the ocean.  A giggle escaped my lips as I recalled the sleepovers Tracy and I had had, and the numerous cheesy pick-up lines about Ryan we would make up. I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly mouth-wateringly hot he was, because he was. He was the closest thing the town has to a celebrity. But, of course, my heart truly belonged to several others (notably: Fred and George Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Peeta Mellark, Gale Hawthorne, Finnick Odair) so now Tracy has official stalker rights.

“Hannah,” Tracy said as she tugged on my arm, snapping me out of my reverie. The people in front of us were heading inside. I followed as Tracy took the few steps towards the bulky bouncer. He just stood there, his eyes concealed behind black shades, his arms crossed over his chest, probably studying us, and after he had concluded that we looked just you’re your harmless run-of-the-mill underage prostitutes, he nodded and Tracy burst inside immediately. I wasn’t even that excited on the midnight release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at Barnes and Noble.

“Come on, Han!”

Tracy disappeared in the throng of horny teenagers dry-humping each other to some bloody god-forsaken Techno track.

I couldn’t even hear myself think.

The lights surveyed the dancefloor, a colourful vomit of pink, purple, navy blue, and sky blue. How was I gonna find Tracy with all of this?

I thought about just sitting at the couches and waiting until she pops out of the crowd, like a fish jumping out of the water. But chances of that happening in the next twenty minutes were highly, highly, highly unlikely. Tracy had such extreme determination that I both admired, and was very frightened of. Whether it be a test, a cross country run or even who could catch the ball during a friendly game of ball, if Tracy wants to win, she will work hard to do so (my Temple Run scoreboard is proof of that). Besides, stuffing rose out of the tears, and stains everywhere—Coke stains, I’m hoping.

I moved away from the dancefloor as I fish out my iPhone from my small purse. I dialled in Trace’s number, and waited until I heard it ring—inside the bag.