Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"OKAY, WHO THE FUCK ate my chicken?" Finny Lancaster's deep voice booms through the house, the distinct noise ricocheting off of literally every wall. Viola freezes, her mouth wrapped around a fork of seasoned poultry as her twin brother storms into the living room where she sits, hungry and afraid. Her posture is stoic and her eyes widen as her brother snarls at the cling wrap laying on the coffee table that is clearly labelled FINNY in his messy scrawl.
Viola swallows the last forkful of her brother's chicken and slowly places the ceramic plate on the table her feet were previously lounging on. Raising her hands defensively, she retreats from his stiff form, his hands clenched at his sides.
"Okay, so in my defence." Viola pauses, slowly looking around the otherwise empty room before shifting her footing and sprinting around the back of the couch. She runs through the house with her arms flailing and a terrified shriek falling from her chapped lips.
"Finny's going to kill me!" She yells out loud as she hears the loud thumps of her brother running close behind her. Viola stops in the kitchen, hiding behind her father who is—weirdly—cooking dinner. He turns with a hot pot in hand, placing it on a heat mat atop the marble bench and eyes the exchange between his offspring.
"Choose your weapons!" A rich—fake—Italian accent coats his words as he points between the pot of spaghetti and two pairs of tongs that sit beside it. "Now, fight!" David Lancaster chuckles to himself as he uses said weapon to place a generous amount of pasta into a white ceramic bowl, shoving it into his son's chest.
Viola and Finny stare at their father, blinking animatedly. Finny opens and closes his mouth before taking the bowl without question, glaring at Viola as he retreats backwards, dragging a finger across his throat with a smirk.
Suddenly, the front door to the Lancaster household slams open, exposing the slim figure of an outgoing teenager girl, bags of liquor clutched between her hands. Genevieve saunters boisterously into the kitchen, a smug smile etched into her delicate features.
"Please, do come in." Viola speaks up dryly, eyeing the booze filled bags that her best friend had smuggled into the house.
"What is up Papa Lancaster?" Genevieve raises a palm for a high five but David only shakes his head at the girl, who in return pouts childishly.
Viola's father pipes up sarcastically, "Genevieve, I understand we're all legal here, but am I going to have to arrange some help? I know a great guy that runs AA meetings." He eyes the multiple bottles in the bags cautiously, a concerned look plastering his features.
Genevieve only rolls her eyes and places the bags onto the bench, the glass inside clattering and somehow not shattering into many pieces. Slowly, she unpacks the damage and smiles proudly, a hungry look in her eyes. "There's a party tonight!" She squeals, gripping Viola by the shoulders and shaking her wildly.
"This is the worst day of my life." Viola moans, rubbing her temples as she drags her friend to the dinner table where Finny sits, forkfuls of spaghetti shoved into his mouth.
He squints at Genevieve. "That's not a party, that's alcohol poisoning."
"You guys are hilarious, really. But tonight, is a celebratory party for when you," she points to Finny. "Win the game tonight."
He snorts, "and if we lose?"
"Even more reason to get drunk!" Genevieve smiles cheekily before turning to Viola—who has been contemplating faking her death, changing her name to Lola and moving to a secluded island—just to get out of this stupid party.
Viola did enjoy a party—maybe once every five years. But one thing she would never enjoy, is a post-game shindig filled with sweaty, horny filled teenagers and loud music that can be heard from Mexico. She finds it pointless and irritating and she'd rather not come to find at the end of the night that she was covered in sweat, drinks and possibly puke, that wasn't even hers. Plus, it was cold outside.
"Nope, I'm not going. I'll watch Finny's game and then I'm coming straight home to reruns of Gossip Girl and chocolate covered pretzels. I'm in for a wild one tonight, you will not take this away from me." Viola counters, filling up a bowl of pasta before looking at Genevieve, who's mouth is hung open in disbelief.
Viola drowns out the ten or so minutes of her best friend's pleading, trying to force Viola to get out of the house and into a carefree environment. She gives up though, rolling her eyes before spilling out gossip to Finny who pretends to listen with a bored face. Viola was suddenly consumed by her own thoughts on a cycle, close to falling into a reverie when suddenly a single sentence strikes a nerve, pulling her from her daydream and back to the dinner table.
"What did you just say?" She says quickly, grabbing Genevieve's shoulders to face her and stares with wide eyes.
"That he's ridiculously hot, but his best friend is like, way hotter." Genevieve speaks slowly, confused at Viola's question.
"No, before that." Viola presses, eager to get the information out of the one girl who doesn't stop running her mouth. Genevieve shifts her gaze to Finny momentarily, who was now gazing curiously at his sister, all of his attention gone from his mobile phone.
"That Sophie was telling me that Gina got chlamydia?" Genevieve raises a single brow and Viola cringes, scrunching up her nose as her brother chokes on his saliva, slapping his chest aggressively. Viola shakes her head and motions for her friend to keep going.
"That the party is at Benjamin Green's house?" Genevieve sighs, raising her arms exasperatedly.
Viola's eyes widen and she stands up abruptly, cursing. "Oh, holy shit!' She laughs manically, shaking Genevieve by the shoulders, who in turn squeals. "Oh shit, oh shit! Oh, you sneaky bastard!" Viola continues to laugh, ordering slight concern from both her friend and brother sitting at the table. The one boy who makes her stomach turn in unimaginable ways was right under her nose the entire time and she didn't even know it.
