85 Vauxhall Cross » Clifford a.u

Chapter 5

I'd never seen so many drunken teenagers as we pulled up to the party. Personally the big open bomb fire that lurked 20 meters form the lakes edge didn't look like a brilliant idea with stumbling teenagers. 

"And now Miss Lea, we see if you can hold your drink." Calum said as I jumped of his lap. The air was already chilly and I'd neglected Michael advice, I hadn't brought a jumper.

"Cal take it slow with her, she's not drunk before." Michael said slamming the car door behind him.

"Ahw, I still remember the day I lost my Alcoginity. It was freshman year, good times. I've got it I'll keep her on the beer, no vodka." Calum said taking my arm and guiding me off into the mass of swaying bodies and raging fire. I think Calum was intent on getting me drunk as every time I finished the cup of beer in my hand, what by the way isn't too bad, a little bitter, the cup would magically be full within seconds. 

"Body shots!" someone shouted. Calum took my arm leading me towards a group of people gathered around a topless boy who lay on the sand. "Who's first?" 

"She is" Calum said volunteering me as he took my cup out of my hand guiding me towards the boy.

"It's England. We'll see how well you do." Said the boy. "Look, Jess will demonstrate." A girl with brown hair knelt down next to me she licked a line up his torso and then bit the lemon in his mouth. The crowd of people 'whooped' from all directions. "You're up England." I did the same, the alcohol burnt my throat but the lemon was the worst part. "Good on you." The boy, whose name I still didn't know even though I think I violated him a bit, said. 

"You're doing well. I expected you to be passed out." A voice that I just manage to recognise as Calum said to me. He was starting to blur a bit. "I'll go and get another drink stay here."

All I could think about was the fire and how pretty it looked. I could feel the music in my feet as I dance, I think what I was doing was dancing, my way through the party. My vision was starting to get hazy as I took another sip of my drink. I was liking my new found care freeness. As I got closer I could feel the heat of the fire on my skin, it felt soothing. I wanted to touch it. Stretching out my hand towards the fire I felt a strong grip around my waist picking me up and taking me backwards.

"Jesus, were you trying to burn yourself. You were practically in th..." That was the last thing I remember. I remembered the voice was low and husky. Not once did I face the voice, the last thing I saw was the lure of orange from the fire." I said down the phone to Lydia. I recited the whole story, every single little detail to her. Neither of us could work out what happened to me that night. Lydia wasn't drunk, she was with Ashton what was practically the same thing, she'd been completely oblivious.

"Right, I'm freaked out. I'll be over in ten. Don't let Michael see you, stay in your room." Lydia said hanging up the phone. I woke up in my own bed thankfully. My head felt like, what could only be described as, elephants drilling inside my brian. I had a leather jacket which was miles too big for me on when I woke up atop of my bed. There had also been a second head dent in the pillow next to mine. Along with my right shoe, bra knife was missing; yes I keep a knife in my bra. 

A sounded like a mountain collapsing echoed around my room. It was my phone.

"Hello." I groaned. 

"Where the hell are you?" It was Michael. Making you head ach you answered.

"In my room, why? And please stop shouting, extreme hangover."

"No one could find you last night. I came home you weren't in your room." 

"Mike, I'm fine. I'm home now."

"Where did you go?" Michael asked curiously. What could I tell him without telling him I blackout.

"Umm...I just made some new friends."

"I don't believe you but I'm gonna let you deal with this hangover. When you're not hangover you can tell me the real story." Michael said hanging up. I'd have to make up a batter story to start telling people. Or work out what happened. I focused and tried to remember thinking, anything more of what happened last night. The same story played over and over in my mind. I vision of the floor popped into my head. It looked like I fell, whose floor was it? I replied the clip again. Was it my floor? It looked like it, kind of. 

"Lea." Lydia called walking my room. She was fresh faced and alert. 

"Jesus, Lyd, no need to shout." I said pulling the leather jacket, which I still wore, over my ears.

"Sorry, forgot about the hangover. Remember anything else?"

"Only that I fell onto my floor." 

"So you have no idea whose jacket that is?"

"Not a clue."

"Have you smelt it?" Lydia asked seriously.

"No? Why?"

"You might recognise the smell. Check the pockets." I did what she said. Taking the jacket off and putting it to my noise I smelt the jacket. It smelt of smoke and manly cologne. I passed the jacket to Lydia where she did the same thing. "I recognise the cologne its Chanel sport. I got it for Ash for Christmas last year. It's not his jacket though." She handed it back to me. I put the rather heavy jacket in my lap before checking the pockets. I pulled out a pack of fresh mint gum, a packet of Marlboro cigarettes. The packet had three cigarettes and two blunts. 

"So how's a boy that smokes normally and weed?" I ask Lydia.

"I'd love to say you narrowed it down but that is practically every single boy at the party. What’s in the other pocket?" I rummaged through the other pocket and found a dollar along with receipt for two mint milkshakes. "That does not give me any insight at all."

"Maybe we can go to where ever this is from and see if they remember him?" I ask hopefully. 

"We could try but you need a shower first." Lydia said scrunching up her nose. 

"Hey! I don't smell that bad." I replied smelling myself. "Okay, yeah maybe you were right." I smelt like a drunken racoon that was dying.

 As I jumped in the shower I thought of all the questions’ I had: whose jacket was is? How did I get home? Who pulled be back from the fire? Why did I only have one shoe? Why was my knife gone? How did someone get my knife? What would I tell Michael? 

The loss of Lea's Alcoginity seams eventful. What really happened that night?