Silence to me, is torture.
It seems like an ordinary Friday night, so to speak, except from the fact that I'm boxed up in a truck with a boy who doesn't look too thrilled to be breathing in the same air with me.
The silence stretches between us like a long, fat rope, tightening me around the neck as if to suffocate the living daylights out of me. I shift uncomfortably in my seat before outstretching my arms to turn on the radio. The sound of music might keep me alive for awhile.
Marvin Gaye's Sexual healing blasts loudly through the speakers and I realize I shouldn't have turned on the radio.
Baby, I'm hot just like an oven
I need some lovin'
And baby, I can't hold it much longer
It's getting stronger and stronger
My hand goes up to awkwardly scratch the back of my neck, my eyes darting in all corners of the truck to find something that'll catch my attention and keep me away from staring at him.
And when I get that feeling
I want sexual healing
Sexual healing, oh baby
Makes me feel so fine.
Noah reaches out this time to change the song and it gets even worse. I'll Make Love To You by Boyz II Men takes over Mavin Gaye's song.
Baby all through the night I'll make love to you
When you want me to.
Does this truck even have any decent song at all?!
I pick up the bottle of liquid resting at the corner of the dashboard to cure my suddenly dry and dehydrated throat.
"Don't drink that," Noah tells me and I roll my eyes.
"Don't tell me what to do." I throw my head back to gulp down the whole of the liquid, the weird taste in it making my nose scrunch up. "Why does it taste like..."
"Urine? That's because it is."
"WHY WOULD YOU EVEN PEE IN A BOTTLE?!" He stares into my horrified face, tearing his gaze off the road for the first time since the ride.
"It's not mine. And I told you not to drink it." We pull into a small but crowded parking lot by the side of a mini club. Noah cut the engine of the truck and steps outside, slamming the door and leaving me sitting alone in silence.
I just drank someone's pee.
"Are you coming in or what?" He rounds the truck and knocks at my window as I unbuckle my seatbelt and fumble to open my door.
I just drank someone's pee.
Voices, laughing and gossiping, mixed in with the rumble of waves on the beach just beside the clubhouse, and some very loud pop music that's coming out of the speakers hits me like a wall as I emerge into the chill night air.
They could have STD's for all I know.
I hurriedly follow behind him into the clubhouse and try to meet up with his long strides. The details of the party becomes clearer as we go closer and it's in fact, not really a club, more of like a house party. The pop music I heard earlier is blasting out of a few large speakers that are attached to red extension cords that runs up to a shack.
A group of boys hanging around one of the speakers have stacked up orange plastic cups into a pyramid, then pours beer all over the structure, making it waterfall.
"Wait right here," Noah instructs before blending in with the rest of the crowd.
My eyes rummages the crowd as they come across two guys making out in a dark corner of the living room. They must've sensed I'm staring because they both give me the stink eye before retreating upstairs to continue their unfinished business. It's only then I realize I'm the only female in the room. It's an all guys party.
"Try not to make eye contact with anyone, you'll easily get noticed," says a voice beside me. I turn to look at the owner of the voice. It's a blonde haired boy with scattered freckles across his cheeks. He uncorks a beer bottle and holds it out to me in which I shook my head in rejection of the alcohol. I'm not about to take alcohol from a stranger in a party full of boys.
"It's ok, I wouldn't accept it if I were you." He gives a small smile but it reaches his eyes. "I saw you come in with that dude, are you guys together?"
"Not exactly. Just here to pick up his friends, that's all."
"That's not so gentlemanly. He shouldn't leave a pretty girl all by herself in gatherings like this."
If you ask me, Noah's been something far from being a gentleman since the day we met on the plane, but then, no one's asking.
"I'm Allie," I say.
"Logan," He bows his head in a curt nod. "So do you live around here? Or...?"
"No. I'm on summer vacation with my friends. We stay downtown. You should come visit sometime."
"Would there be food?"
I grin. "Depends on who's cooking it."
Logan emanates good vibe and aura, and I'm happy he's not making any flirty remarks to cringe me out. Somewhere in the crowd, a chant starts: Fight! Fight! Fight!
I see his eyes lock on something behind me as he mutters an "oh shit."
I immediately spin around. A crowd is already gathered where two bulky guys are staring themselves down, one hand on either boy's chest.
"You need to get out of here. Things are about to get ugly." Logan gently nudges me towards the door but I don't budge.
"I came here with someone and I intend to leave with them. They'll be worried if I just leave." Although I highly doubt Noah would be anything near worried. I just want to stay and watch the fight.
"You don't understand," a mixture of anxiety and worry laces in his tone. "These people are..."
He's cut off by the sound of a gunshot.
Wait! A gunshot?!
Immediately the first bullet goes off, more follows. Why would someone even bring guns to a party?! This isn't even an action movie. I recognize a familiar mop of messy hair from the now panicked stricken crowd and I give a sigh of relief.
"My ride back home is here." I turn back to Logan beside me when he doesn't reply and all blood drains from my face when I see a familiar crimson red liquid seeping out from the left side of his chest.
A loud shrill cry escapes my mouth.
Logan drops heavily to the floor after the stray bullet misses my head and aims for his heart, his eyes gradually getting void of all emotions before they voluntarily roll to the back of his head.
This is not good. This is not good!
I feel a large pair of hands firmly grip me by the arm and drags me raggedly out of the house.
"We have to help him!" I try to wriggle myself out of Noah's strong grip but all my efforts are useless as he shoves me into the passenger's seat of the truck. Four more of the Kingston boys including Cory trails behind him, staggering their way into the back of the truck.
"What are you doing?! Someone was shot!" I yell at Noah when he starts the engine and zooms out of the driveway, bumping into a few parked cars that blocks his way.
"Do we look like the ambulance?"
"But still, he was my friend!" I bite back.
"You met him like ten minutes ago."
"He called me pretty!"
"He was obviously lying." Noah focuses on the rear view mirror when a few Police sirens fills the night sound. Someone had already called the cops. "Sorry your friend was shot, but we had to leave or we'll get involved with the police."
My vision gradually goes blurry with tears that are threatening to spill and I immediately look away so he wouldn't see them, but with the way his fingers clench tightly around the wheel turning his knuckles white, he must've noticed a few drops spill from my right eye.
In a matter of minutes, we're far away from the chaos behind us and the only thing now filling both our ears are the deep snores from the drunken boys behind us, plus the sound of my silent sniffles.
I curl my knees up to my chest and rest my aching head on the window, letting the flashes of images from that day invade my thoughts.
It's the second time in years I've felt this way, watching life drain out of a person's eyes, the stupid loud police sirens, the interrogation, the guilt, how I should've stayed home instead just like today. I'm happy, hurting, and healing at the same time. I don't know how, but I'm doing it, and I'm so fucking proud of myself.
1496 Number of words
Edit