Ecstasy

Chapter 60

A/N Another milestone. Chapter Sixty! Wow. Get the tissues. You may need them for these next few chaps.

Tyson:

Her foot slipped out of the cuff of her black high shoes and the sight of her heel, skin bright white in the fluorescent lights, was somehow attractive and totally sexy. She was leaning over the bar, chatting to the young guy behind it, playing with the end of his uniform tie. She was smiling, laughing, flirting. I felt angry and sad and helpless all at once.

Voices sounded beside me and once I caught their conversation I couldn't stop listening.

"Maybe we should take her home."

"No, let her be. She's having a good time." Another voice, I recognised this as Phoebes. The two shadows were standing in front of me, tall: teetering on high heels.

"Is she? Getting drunk and kissing the bartender isn't her normal past time Fee. How did she even get an over eighteen band anyway?" Mitchie's voice sounded worried.

I looked back at Calla. She was almost on top of the bar now, leaning across it's surface, one hand pulling at the guys tie the other clutching his shoulder, her mouth on his. His on hers. His hands caressing her neck. Pain shot through my chest. This was my fault. I had made her do this. I noticed the thin pink paper bracelet around her wrist, a free drinks band.

"She needs to be wild for one night. After what happened with Tyson she has to get over it somehow."

"Yeah, but she doesn't need to be this wild. We don't want her to regret anything tomorrow morning–"

I stepped into the light and they both saw me.

"Tyson," Mitchie looked startled. "What are you doing here?"

"Calla doesn't want to see you." Phoebe was already defensive, crossing her arms over her chest.

I held up my hands in an 'I surrender' gesture. "I know." I lowered my hands before scratching the back of my head. "I just wanted to say sorry–"

Phoebe interrupted me. "Don't apologise to us, you owe her that."

I nodded, agreeing.

Mitchie's eyes shot up and looked across the room. She looked hyper alert. Concern knitted her eyebrows together. "Crap! Now she's on the bar, see what I told you?"

Mitchie started to push towards the crowd, past the people. I started to follow.

"She won't listen Mitchie!" Phoebe shouted after us.

"Wait." I held my hand across her path. "I'll get her."

Mitchie opened her mouth to protest but I spoke before she had the chance. "Please."

She knew I wasn't really asking. She closed her mouth, her lips pushing into a line. "Fine." Her voice was sour. She turned back to Phoebe. "Where have my parents gone anyway?"

Their voices started to fade away as I approached the old wooden bar. Music pumped on.

Calla was sitting on the bar, glass in her hand, swaying to the music. Her feet swung over the edge, one foot had lost a shoe.

"Well if it isn't Mr Playboy," she said sarcastically when she saw me approaching, she raised her glass to me before sculling back the contents. The statement was a dig, and it hurt. She slapped the glass down on the bench beside her. "Another please Reese." She called to the bartender over her shoulder, the one she had just locked lips with. He looked at me then, our eyes connected. He looked embarrassed and smug at the same time. He seemed to sneer at me before turning away to the bottles of alcohol and I felt like knocking his teeth to the back of his skull.