An Arrow To The Chest

Chapter 16

*Warning: drugs are mentioned*

Chapter 16

The background noise of chatter and music dies down, until all I can hear is high pitched ringing in both ears. My eyes may be focused on Carmen’s face, yet all I can see is blurred edges and the colour red. My face feels hot and prickly, like I’ve just been slapped or splashed with boiling water, and I ball my fists so tightly that I can feel my nails digging into the palms of my hands.

What the fuck did she just say to me?

“You heard me. How dare you show your face here!”

First of all: I have absolutely no idea what she's on about. The girl was clearly deluded if our encounter in the kitchen had even hinted that Arrow and I had slept together, and it certainly wouldn’t have come out of his mouth. The boy barely acknowledges me, let alone would want anyone to think we’d done the dirty.

And calling me a slag infront of all these people at a party? Totally unacceptable. I have never been so disrespected in my life, and if she thought I was merely going to stand down, she had another thing coming.

“Look Carmen, I have no idea what the fuck you’re on about. And I don’t give a shit if this is your house, or if today is your birthday. Don’t you dare ever call me a slag again.”

She blinks, looking completely taken aback, and I wouldn’t be surprised if no-one has challenged or yelled back at her before. She looks like the type of girl that would be the bully, and not the other way around.

Only, instead of yelling back and meeting fire with fire, she starts blinking back tears and her bottom lip begins to tremble. Oh God, we have a crier. I’ve officially crashed a party, run away from the birthday girl, then accomplished making her cry. I’m an awful human being.

“No, no, no, no, don’t get upset,” I say as tears start to streak down her cheeks, taking the make-up with it. Her perfectly done glittery eye shadow is now creating waterfalls of glitter down her face, like a failed kids art project, and she tries to wipe them away yet only makes it worse.

“You’re ruining my birthday,” she says between gritted teeth, taking shaky breaths in a desperate attempt to reverse the pending tantrum.

“Look, I’m going to leave. I’m sorry for coming, but I have no idea what you mean about sleeping with Arrow. If thats whats upsetting you, then you can rest easy tonight as thats an absolute fabrication,” I plan on making my dramatic exit but her hand comes out and grabs me before I can turn around and leave.

“No. You’re not leaving yet. Come to my room to help me clean myself up, seeing as you’re the reason for this mess.” I don’t like how she’s talking to me and ordering me around, but I’m too scared to argue, so I reluctantly agree. I even help keep her steady as we push past the people on the steps, and reach her room.

She bangs on her door twice, then leans in a shouts through the gap.

“This is my bedroom and I’m about to enter, so if anyone’s in there shagging, nows the time to put your clothes on and scrabble before I come in and kick your ass,” she shouts, but doesn’t even wait 10 seconds before she violently pushes her door open and steps inside. I guess the tearful moment is over, and anger has kicked in instead.

Two boys scramble from her desk, some white powder still evident around their nostril’s, and a plate with a rolled up note left discarded as they run out the door. Not subtle in the slightest.

She turns to me and shakes her head, tutting as she walks up to the evidence. She wets her finger, runs it along the plate to collect the reminance, then rubs it against her gums.