Hard Knock Night | The Society

Hard Knock Night

The town was quiet, only the sound of an evening breeze making its way through New Ham could be heard. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, the fleeting colors of dusk streaking across the sky illuminating the streets in a pink glow. Sidewalks empty, barren of any sign of life. This is how it often looked around this time of night, everyone assembled in the cafeteria eating dinner. Allie doesn't skip every night, not even most nights, but every once and awhile, when she really needs to, she stays home.  It's the only time the yellow house on Henrietta street is ever wholly empty, it's the only time when if she tries hard enough, she can pretend that everything is normal. That Cassandra is down the hall studying, tapping away at her keyboard, writing an essay. She can hear her father from downstairs telling her mother about his day, she imagines him leaning against the counter, picking away at whatever her mother is cooking. Roast Chicken, that's what her mother is making, she can picture it so clearly. She fabricates such a familiar scent that she can feel her mouth start to water. She imagines that in a few minutes, her sister will knock on the bathroom door and yell through it telling her to hurry up 'mom and dad are calling us down for dinner.' And naively in her own world, she waits for that. She stands under the hot spray of the shower above, hoping, praying, expecting her sisters knock on the door.

So when she hears the tell-tale knock of the front door, she thinks she's imagining it. But then the doorbell rings, and her confusion grows. She turns off the shower and steps out dripping water all over the bathroom floor. She thinks to herself if she had missed something. There hadn't been anyone to expect, and the people who she shared her home with wouldn't knock. Curious as to who is knocking on her front door, she looks around her room for something to put on to answer the door. But as the knocking starts to become frantic, Allie can only reach for a towel to wrap around her body as she makes her way down the stairs. Her hair is dripping, creating a trail along the hardwood floors. She had only just finished securing the towel around her when the doorbell starts to ring in chorus with the incessant knocks. With an exasperated annoyance, she swings open the door, foregoing a cautionary glance out the window to see who it was. She regrets that the moment she is greeted with a slightly out of breath, Harry, whose eyes are wide and dark.

Allie looks him up at him and purses her lips in irritation. Before she can ask what was so dire that he needed to make such a racquet, she is pushed back with the door as he makes his way inside.  She scoffs and closes the door behind him.  As soon as its shut Harry is pushing her up against the back of it. His forehead is pressing against hers, their faces just barely touching. His breath is heavy against her own, and when she looks up into his eyes, she knows exactly what is going on. For a few months now she and Harry have had an agreement of sorts. Not a friends with benefits situation, they weren't friends, more of the opposite than anything else. Just an arrangement between two people, two consenting people, two people that felt the weight of the world had come crashing down upon them, two people who expected nothing out of the other. No emotions, no words, and no expectations. It worked for them. It was the only reprieve either had from the world around them, their own dirty secret.

She is brought back to the present when he squeezes one hand on her waist, the other pressing up against the door beside her face. He looks at her and asks with his eyes for permission. She nods, and for a split second, she catches that smirk on his face, the one he always gets when she says yes. Before she could roll her eyes, he was kissing her with such ferocity she has to grip onto his neck to steady herself. His kiss is intense and hungry. He runs his hand up her side and into her hair, the other pulling her hand from his neck and stretching it up above her on the door. It's not long before he is sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, nipping the corner of it with his teeth. Allie leans into the kiss, fighting for the control he is exerting. She pulls her arm down from above her where he was holding it and grabs a fistful of his brown curls. She pulls his head back in a gesture that suggests 'play nice.' He only retreats for a second before he's pressing her back against the door, kissing from her lips down to the side of her neck. She groans when he bites and slides one leg up his own to hook around his waist as he sucks. Holding his shoulders tight against her heaving chest, she throws her head back with a thud.