When nineteen year old Chelsea moves into the house on Linden Avenue, it's a chance for her to reinvent herself. A clean slate to be the teenager she never got the chance to be. Having had the responsibility dumped on her pretty much all her life, s...
NEXT DOOR IS much cooler than her own place and Chelsea wonders how that's possible when so many people are together. Like sardines in a tin. She has no problem getting in and no one stops her. She walks into what appears to be the living room but it's much bigger than her own.
Strobing lights are placed meticulously around the room in positions that engulf the room in a pink tinge. The room itself has been converted to a dance floor and occupies said dancers. She watches them move in ways she never would have done publicly, and wonders what exactly she's doing in a place like this.
A number of things are happening at once. People dancing. People participating in what looks like a spin the bottle game. People making out. People throwing a ping pong ball on the couches, beside the people making out, and drinking from red cups when a ball lands in it. So many people.
Having no prior experiences of parties Chelsea's unsure of what to do at first. She remembers going to dinners when she was younger. It was either at her mom's friend's house or in their own. The closest she's gotten to drinking alcohol was a sip of champagne from her father's glass when her mother wasn't looking.
Scanning the room, she spots the long table of drinks and snacks, red cups lining the edges like bunting. She sees a boy with a shaved head and headphones secured around his neck, grab a handful of chips and swallow them down with the liquid from a red cup.
Her eyes follow him as he hops up to a raised platform where the music seems to be coming from. The guy who'd previously been there, leaves his post as the other guy takes his spot behind the decks. There's an uproar of cheers and more people swarm to the dance floor. The guy gives a strange smirky smile before a new track begins to play.
All of a sudden, the ground beneath her is vibrating, it's the type of music that you can't hear yourself over. It's music that demands to be paid attention. The unfamiliar yet familiar place with unfamiliar faces renders an unusual feeling in her.
The people don't seem to notice her and she's okay with that.
She continues to examine her surroundings. There's a sliding glass door and through it, Chelsea can see the clear blue of a pool. She doesn't have a pool in her house. None of the other houses in the neighbourhood have one as far as she's aware. In her backyard, there's a garden which looks like it housed many plants and flowers before but now has the semblance of a runover graveyard.
The pool holds a group of people tossing an inflated ball around. More people are around the edges of the pool in bathing suits and suddenly Chelsea feels extremely overdressed. She can hear their garbled laughter from where she's standing, blanketed by the music. She wonders if any of the other neighbours have complained about the loudness of it all.
Keeping to the walls of the room, she knows that she should have just left but her feet wander on. If anything, she becomes more curious. She comes across the kitchen, after passing numerous people, which is empty except for one person.
She recognises him-- after all, he's the host of the party. He sits on the counter of his kitchen, one shoe and sock off and a large spoon in his hand as he tries, from the looks of it, to remove the black tag around his ankle, and failing.
Chelsea's already walked into the vicinity of the kitchen so it's not long before her presence is noticed. Her neighbour looks up, irritated for a second as if ready to tell her to screw off as he did to the couple who'd come in not a moment ago.
When he raises his head and spots her, she feels her face flush and quickly mumbles out a, "Sorry."
Just as she's about to leave to save herself from further embarrassment, he speaks.
"Wait. It's Chelsea, isn't it? You live next door?" His voice is rougher than she imagined. She nods.
"I'm Zach." He jumps off the counter, pulls down his pant leg and lays the spoon aside. "Welcome to the neighbourhood."
"Thanks. I'm Chelsea." A beat later and she feels her face begin to heat up. "But you already knew that. Um, how do you know?"
It sounds dumb but it's too late to take it back.
He chuckles. She notices his blonde hair is like the colour of sand after it has a battle with the ocean. Faint freckles across the bridge of the nose are prominent under the harsh kitchen lighting. "Postman."
"Oh. Of course." She feels herself warm up even more. Then to cover her awkwardness she asks, "How is it so cool in here?" As soon as the words come out she immediately wants to take them back from the look of confusion on his face. But she continues, "I mean, my place is never this chilled and that's when the heater's not turned on."
"I got a new AC system installed. Got tired of sweating through my sheets on the really hot days." He explains.
Just then a goggling couple stumbles into the kitchen. "This room is off limits." Zach says harshly, making them retreat the way they came.
Then he grips her elbow gently, making goosebumps rise on her skin, and steers her into the room she'd been in before to somewhere that's a little less crowded.
The uncertainty returns and she wonders what she's doing. With someone like Zach. Every time someone brushes past her, she tenses.
"Relax." He smiles, which makes her heart pick up in pace and offers her a plastic red cup with liquid in it. At her hesitation he withdraws his hand, "You don't drink?"
She shakes her head.
"Here." He reaches underneath the table and hands her a closed bottle of sprite. "So where were you before you came here?"
"Phoenix."
His lips twitch for a millisecond before falling neutral. "And you decided to come here?"
"What's wrong with this place?"
"No one comes to Boring Belmont out of choice. They either want to run away from something or get out of the place if they're already here."
"I came for the peace and quiet." She answers truthfully. It had been a while since.
"Ah, well apologies for any disturbances on my part. I have the noise situation sorted with the other neighbours." He shoots her a wry smile.
As if that's an energy boost, she becomes much bolder in that moment. Or maybe it's the sprite. "What about you?"
He lifts his pant leg in explanation. "As you've seen, I've stopped running."
Chelsea's gaze remains fixated on the black tag and the bright light before she looks away.
It's rude to stare.
She would ponder over the tag for the next couple of days to come but in that instant she lets all uncertainties vanish from her mind. For a while at least.
She looks at the sprite in her hand and then back at Zach. A frown lines his features as he looks over her head, but when they return to Chelsea, they morph into a smile.
"Enjoy the party."
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