Wasted » luke Hemmings

chapter two

"Michael!" I shout over the loud music, pushing through the hundreds of people in his house. I roll my eyes as he throws his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side, the smell of alcohol filling my lungs.

"Hey baby," he whispers in my ear, making me almost gag.

"Have you seen Calum?" I push him a little, as he always gets a little touchy-feely when he's drunk.

"He's with some girl," a deep voice catches my attention, turning and pulling away from Michael's death grip, my eyes adjusting to the strobe lights to see the blonde haired boy.

"Thanks." I nod a little, as he hands me a red cup, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Vodka and coke," his mouth curves into a slight smile, as I take the cup from his hands.

"I normally just drink it straight, but thanks," I say pretty bluntly, turning from him to move from the crowd of people, becoming a little flustered.

I feel a slight grip around my wrist, pulling me back, I turn around to the boy again, "Why don't you like me?" he asks, looking a little concerned.

"When did I say that?" I ask, becoming more flustered by the second, my breathing picking up slightly, my hands becoming clammy.

"Well you didn't.." he trails off, rolling my eyes in response, handing the drink he gave me back, pushing through the people to the toilet, cutting the line to the front. Some people shouting at me for cutting but I just curse at them running in as soon as the person in the toilet comes out.

I lock the door behind me, falling into the small room, clutching the ceramic sink bowl, squeezing my eyes shut, slowing my breathing down until it reaches a steady speed. I look at my appearance in the mirror, my long deep brown hair falling from the middle parting to meet the waist of the tennis skirt. I look at my eyeliner to see if the flicks have smudged, to see that for once they haven't.

I brush my skirt down, fixing my bra in the bralet, so you can't see it. I run my fingers through my hair, taking a deep breath before twisting the door knob. The blonde haired boy approaches me again, "You alright?" he asks, concerned.

"Jesus Christ, you're like a lost puppy," I moan, rolling my eyes, walking back over to the counter, grabbing the bottle of Vodka on the island.

"I was just trying to be nice, no need to be a bitch about it," He scolds, turning on his heel and walking away. Okay now is the time to get absolutely shit faced.

I down five shots in a row, Calum finally walking over from wherever he was. His words slurred but just about comprehensible, "Luke told me you were a bitch," he whines,

"Pretty much the extent of it," I respond, waiting for the Vodka to hit me.

"Fleur why!" he moans, resting his two hands on each of my shoulders and shaking me rapidly. I let out a loud laugh as he stops, rolling my eyes at him.

"He was annoying me!" I defend.

"He thought you were pretty, he wanted to make a good impression," he wiggles his eyebrows as I pretend to gag.

"Just what I want, someone who thinks I'm pretty," I smirk, laughing a little.

"Give him a chance," Calum begs, "He's a nice guy, and you could do with some dick, that might be why you're such a bitch a times - you're deprived," he teases, as I punch his shoulder.

"Shut the fuck up Cal," I laugh, walking to the back yard. I pull out my pack of cigarettes from the zip pocket, rummaging for a lighter, remembering I left it on the sidewalk when Calum picked me up. "Shit," I whisper to myself, wondering over to a couple of boys also smoking. "Do any of you have a light?" I ask, showing my fag, someone hands out a white lighter, holding down the switch so the flame rises. I put the cigarette in my mouth, bending down a little holding the fag over the flame, breathing in a little so it catches alight. I stand up straight again as it catches, breathing in the smoke, "thanks," I look up to see the blonde boy again, put the lighter in his pocket.