Sweet Swell

Chapter 7

I’d expected Liam’s family to live in a normal two-storey house with a double garage and nicely kept lawn in the suburbs. I couldn't be further from the truth.

As we drove up a steep lane leading onto the top of a hill, I could hear loud, pounding music indicating a major party in full swing. We’d been driving past mansion after mansion all the way through one of Durban’s most esteemed neighbourhoods for the past twenty minutes, and the houses were only getting bigger and more luxurious as we kept going. 

A huge three-storey monster of a mansion, windows completely lit up, with a huge black iron-cast gate surrounding it was staring back at us. Tristan stopped his car by a security guard who was checking off our names on a list on a clip-board before he opened the electric double-gates for us. I felt like I’d just gotten into the hottest club south of the hemisphere.

“You’re dating the girl who lives here? Aren’t you intimidated?” I asked incredulously. Tristan only shrugged and drove his car up to the huge front steps to the house, where a valet was waiting to take the car. A freaking valet! I suddenly felt extremely out of place. Tristan lived here? I was completely speechless at the sight of this place. People were scattered all around the front lawn, bobbing up and down to the beat of the loud music. The lawn was decorated with rosebushes in full bloom, all lining the oval driveway. A huge fountain stood right in the middle of the garden, spraying jets of water gloriously into a pond filled with orange and white Koi fish. All of it was lit up with soft, twinkling lights. I wish I could do this place justice with my description, but I simply can’t. This was probably the most amazing house I’d ever seen in person. And I was about to go inside it too! 

“Claire, you coming?” Tristan interrupted my awe at the pristine garden surrounding us. I nodded and climbed quickly up the stairs to the Mediterranean-style chateau. The place screamed money. It was all arches and pillars in creamy white, with palm trees, monstera plants, agapanthus bushes and Strelitzia flowers dripping along the edge of the gates, creating a typical Durban tropical vibe. Tall candles were burning by the front door, casting a welcoming light on the huge ebony double-doors. Tristan didn’t bother knocking, and simply pushed them open knowingly, as if he’d done it a million times. Probably had. 

The music pressed down on my eardrums as I was pulled into the full swing of the party. People were scattered all over the enormous palace of a place, sipping champagne, jumping up and down to the beat, running around in a drunk stupor. Apparently this wasn’t even the actual party yet, I found out as Tristan pulled me through the beautifully furnished, modern, sparkly house to a large set of floor-to ceiling glass windows slid open to reveal the Brits’ backyard. Backyard isn’t even the right word for it.

A sandstone patio with a tremendous lengthwise 50 meter swimming pool with a magical view on the harbour appeared in front of me, taking my breath away. People were dancing around the pool, on the dance floor hovering above the pool, and several party animals were even jumping around in the pool. Some were perched in a hot tub beside the pool and some people in chef’s outfits were barbecuing hot-dogs on a state-of-the-art grill as if it was a totally normal ritual at almost 12 at night. High palm-trees lined the edge of the lawn, framing the view of the sea.

Suddenly, a slightly intoxicated Vera in a white bikini and beige Louboutins threw her arms around Tristan’s shoulders out of nowhere and started making out with him violently. I backed off slightly, feeling terribly out of place. The music was so loud, I didn’t know anyone, and Tristan was otherwise occupied. Tristan was swept up in the crowd and I’d lost him completely. He’d probably gone off with Vera to get completely hammered. 

A waiter came up to me and offered me a glass of Dom. Damn, how rich were these people… I trailed off, glass in hand, deciding what the hell, let’s get bent. If I didn’t know anyone here, I could do anything without feeling ashamed the next day. As I walked to the bar, a cute dark-haired spanish looking guy sidled up to me, “Hey, want to dance?” he purred, stroking my arm as he smiled alluringly. 

“Why not?” I smiled back, abandoning my glass as I let him lead me to an elevated glass-plated stage-like contraption, perched over the pool on pillars and rails to keep people from falling over, which served as a dance floor that looked as if it was floating above the water. As I stood on the dance floor, I could see people swimming underneath me. This party must have cost a fortune. The guy was dancing close to me, holding my waist as we swayed to the loud club-music. 

“I’m Trent,” he yelled in my ear above the earth shatteringly loud music.

“Claire,” I yelled back as he twisted me around, dipped me and then set me back on my feet as everyone started fist pumping to the beat. I was having so much more fun than I’d expected to have a few minutes ago! Dancing was such a release for me, and dancing with a cute guy was just so much better. Trent’s hands were trailing up and down my waist, and we were dancing closer and closer as the music went on. I barely knew the guy, but whatever, he was cute, and this was such a fun party. High-class too. No red plastic cups here - everyone held a pristine glass filled to the brim with either Dom or something stronger.

“Let me get you a drink,” Trent said after we’d danced through three songs straight.

“Thanks!” I panted, probably not very attractively, “I’m parched.”

He took my hand and led me over to the bar, ordering us both a shot of Patrón and Mojitos to chase the shots with. 

“Tonight, we get fucked up!” He said as we clinked our glasses together.

“Cheers!” I added, feeling the buzz of the shot working its magic on me already.

As I took a sip, I felt my phone buzzing in my clutch. I contemplated whether or not to ignore it, but finally decided to answer. It might have been Tristan in trouble or something. The caller-ID read unknown, but I answered anyway.

“Meisie! Where are you?” A friendly voice called out knowingly.

Butterflies stirred in my stomach and my heart started pounding.

“Liam!” I yelled into the receiver, “Oh my God, this party is sick! And your house is a freaking castle!” 

I could hear him laughing. It sounded as if he was further away from the noise from his end. 

“I’m by the bar,” I yelled. 

“Partying hard tonight, I see,” He said amusedly, “I’ll come get you, just wait there.”

Trent looked at me questioningly.

“I’m supposed to meet someone here,” I explained. His expression became slightly annoyed.

“I see…” He shrugged, smiling warmly back at me, “No worries, thanks for the dance, anyway.” He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek before turning around, almost bumping into Liam who was smiling at him.

“Trent my bru!” Liam yelled happily, slapping Trent on his back. Trent smiled back excitedly.

“Jis ou, I’ve missed you! How’s uni been treating you?” Trent asked with a grin.

“All’s good, all’s good,” Liam said distractedly, standing closer to me as he draped his arm protectively around my shoulders. Trent’s mouth opened as if he was about to say something, but he kept quiet instead, lifting his glass as if to say “cheers” and turned to leave. Liam looked down at me and gave me a squeeze. 

“Seems like Miss Claire Grové is quite popular at parties, hey?” He jeered, referring to the Trent situation.

“What makes you think the popular girl wants to talk to you,” I grinned back at him. He laughed, shaking his head. 

“Come on, I can’t hear myself thinking over here,” he said, pulling me up by my hand. Liam looked especially handsome tonight. He was wearing a pair of washed-out Levi’s that hugged him in all the right places, together with a buttoned-down t-shirt in light blue aztec print. White vans covered his feet and he looked sailboat-ready with his jeans turned up once at the hem. He was wearing the same multicoloured wristbands with seashells hanging on them he’d been wearing at the bonfire, and the rest of him looked as flawlessly gorgeous as ever. The sight of him gave me crazy butterflies.