Jack of Clubs (BxB)

1: In An Angry, Drunken Haze

A/N: Date/time/country in which you started this?

"Three years, Sawyer!" I cringed as she turned to me, soda dripping down the front of her shirt. Sam was wide-eyed as he stared at the both of us, trying his hardest to not burst out laughing. "You too, Sam!"

Millie appeared as though she was on the verge of cracking both of our skulls together hard enough to tear a hole in the fabric of the universe. Sam meant to pour his soda on me, not Millie. But he missed and now she was livid. Rightfully so.

"Sorry?" He shrugged, snorting in his attempt to hold back his shit-eating grin. Sometimes I wanted nothing more than to punch that stupid face of his into oblivion.

"If you don't back the fuck out of my face right now, I'm going to slap the shit out of you." Millie threatened, the death glare on her face unmatched in intensity. Seemingly realizing just how serious she was, Sam saluted to us and ran off to join his friends. I could see Dennis doubled over with laughter, and Caden covering his mouth to hide his own. Brian just watched.

Slowly, Millie spun on her heel to face me, soda staining the front of her pink button up. She was taking deep breaths, probably in an effort to keep from screaming out her frustrations. "Three. Fucking. Years."

She was referencing the grudge that Sam and I had with one another.

Three years ago was when it all began, and neither of us were able to let go of the brimming rage we felt towards each other ever since.

It all started two weeks before our freshmen year — which was when we met for the first time.

Millie's older sister, Keira, had been planning on going to one of the last parties of the summer. Millie really wanted to go too, practically begging for Keira to let the two of us join. I was more nervous than anything, but I didn't want to let Millie go alone.

Keira was practically a sister to me, though not by blood. She raised the both of us when our actual parents were too neglectful to care. Their parents were always too childish to pay attention to them. Mine were far too caught up in their work and appearances.

I remembered every detail of that party, because I didn't end up drinking much of anything. The alcohol was warm and tasted cheap, burning my throat in an unpleasant way. It wasn't exactly a good memory despite being my first proper encounter with beer.
After a few sips, I just stopped drinking altogether. There were a lot of people at that party, the house belonging to one of Keira's friends. But Millie and I were two of the youngest.

She loved to drink, and pairing that with a low alcohol tolerance was a worrying endeavor.

That night, Millie drank two beers and was beyond trashed. At some point, she went off to find Keira. When I tried to stop her, she said that it was about 'lady' things. So I let her go.

There was music playing, and though I didn't exactly know why, I still recalled a particular lyric: she said your lips tasted like they did way back in July... that lyric had been on repeat in my mind for weeks after. I ended up searching for the song and adding it to one of my playlists. Beachboy by McCafferty.

I was sitting alone on the stairs, staring blankly into my red solo cup. Every so often I would swirl it around in my hand just to watch the whirlpool of unknown liquid still once more. Then I saw him in the corner of my eye.

He was looking at me from the bottom of the stairs, through a gap in the railing. His blonde hair was once more curly, skin less tan, and height even less impressive than my own. At the time, I had no idea who he was or what he wanted. All I knew was that he wouldn't stop staring at me.