"A young boy is sleeping in his bed on a usual night. He hears footsteps outside his door, and peeks open an eye to see what is happening," Everyone is dead silent, making Simone's voice audible enough to the little crowd that forms a circle. We're all sitting on chunks of wood.
"His door swings open quietly to reveal a murderer carrying the corpses of his parents. After silently propping them on a chair, he writes something on the wall in the blood of the dead bodies. He then hides under the child's bed." My fingers digs in tightly to whoever's arms I'm gripping on in fear.
"The child is scared beyond belief. He can't read the writing on the wall and he knows the man is under his bed. Like any child, he pretends that he slept through the whole thing and hasn't awoken yet. He lays still as the bodies, quietly hearing the breaths from under his bed."
"An hour passes, and his eyes are adjusting more to the darkness. He tries to make out the words, but it's a struggle. He gasps when he finally makes out the sentence: 'I know you're awake' Then he feels something shift underneath his bed."
"BOO!" Everyone screams when a figure dressed up like a clown jumps into our midst out of nowhere.
"Calm down guys, it's just Todd." Simone announces, the idiotic Todd guy bursting out in laughter.
"Your faces looked deformed!" He cackles like a maniac.
"Let's try deforming yours, shall we?" Someone cracks their knuckles, before gripping him by the shoulder and dragging him away.
Looks like Todd's dead meat.
"Allie."
"Hmm?"
"If my arms could speak right now, they'd be screaming in pain."
I take a glance at Lacey, then down at her arms that are already turning red from my grip and release it.
"Oh, sorry."
"I sneaked this out of the kitchen." She hands me an ice cream can and a spoon. "Do you think there's a reason Cory didn't join us?"
Noah sits across us, roasting a marshmallow in the fire. He doesn't blow in it before taking it straight to his mouth, so it burns the skin on his lip.
He winces. So do I.
"I don't know," I reply Lacy. "He probably has his reasons." One of them being mad at me.
Talking with people and hearing Simone's scary stories initially kept my mind away from him for a while, but now that Lacey mentions it, I stare at the hotel's building which has all its lights off, except one at the last floor. The windows are opened and the lights are turned on.
I promised I'll meet up with him when I returned from the market but here I am, eating ice cream and glaring at Alexa as she walks to where Noah is seated. Reaching out to his lips where it burned, he slaps her hand away and abruptly gets on his feet, eager to leave her side like she's the flu.
"Hey! Over here."
I see the corner of his lips twitch up in a feint smile when he sees my hand up in the air signaling him to come over.
"Crazy night, huh?" Lacey's the first to speak, as always. Noah shrugs.
"Ice cream?" I offer.
"I'm lactose intolerant."
I blink. "Did I say ice cream?" Lacey growls at me when I grab the cup of iced tea from her hand. "I meant iced tea."
"I was going to drink that."
Despite her whining about her iced tea, Noah takes a sip from the cup. "I thought you guys were three. Where's the third one?"
"Dark haired jock over there with the fringe," I point at Simone who's in an arm wrestle battle with birthday boy. I found out his name's Tom. She swiftly knocks him over, the both of them flexing their arm muscles to compare whose is larger.
"I think your friend likes her." I say.
Noah scratches his ear lobe. "How can you tell?"
"Body language."
The cold wind blows around us and I let out a shiver.
"Is that a birthmark on your face?" Lacey stares at his scar. "I have one too under my armpit. Want to see?"
"Yeah we're not that close." He lowers her arms back when she raises it up to show the said birthmark.
Lacey stands to her feet. "I'm going to get a drink over there while you guys continue being boring." Her hair sways lightly along with her waists as she approaches the other crowd.
I pat the space beside me Lacey just stood up from and he occupies the chunk of wood.
"Look how happy everyone is." I watch a few of them laugh hysterically at something they said.
"That's all because of you. You brought everyone together with your bonfire idea." He says. "You've got a little Yoghurt on your mouth."
"It's ice cream."
"Oh, it matters." Sarcasm drips from his tone.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my palms. "Sarcasm ruins the image, you know."
He whips his head in my direction for an instant. "What image?"
"You trying to be less of an asshole."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"Isn't it?"
"Hardly."
"Then what are you doing?"
"Damned if I know," He growls under his breath. Noah can be the most intimidating guy when he chooses to be. And he's doing that right now. He scowls at a bee that blocks his way, as if annoyed that the flimsy insect dare to try and thwart him. Still, I can't help but like him even if I feel I have no right to.
"You know, for a stuffed shirt, you're a pretty cool person." I tell him.
"You think I'm a stuffed shirt?"
I wince. "Sorry. Sometimes my mouth speaks without permission. Stuffed shirt's a little over the top, but you do come across as rather prim and proper."
His lips nearly forms a smile. "You don't happen to know my mom, do you?"
I remember the reference to his mom earlier today and how he says I sound like her. "Not likely. I'm sure we move in different age groups."
"She thinks I'm a stuffed shirt too. Maybe I need new shirts."
"I like your shirts."
Heat swarms up my neck as we both remember I'd been in one the other night, which is still neatly folded in my luggage.
"Wish I could say the same."
I watch everyone go back to their previous positions on the chunks of wood, forming a circle again. There has to be some other people they invited to this bonfire. I mean, I don't even think we're this much.
Even so, I don't mind in the slightest that this place is packed with loud, chattering teenagers who are acting like hyper children, children high on too much sugar.
"It's already that time of the night." I say.
"What time of the night?"
"The part where there's a group game. It happens in most parties."
He looks like he has no idea what I'm talking about. "I have a feeling you don't get invited to parties."
"I'm not exactly a social bird."
"Yeah I figured." Someone hands me a plastic cup and fills it with liquor. She does the same for Noah as he looks over at me for an explanation. "Okay, So this one's a drinking game. Players take turns asking other players about things they haven't done. Other players who have done this thing respond by taking a drink."
He doesn't look so thrilled about it. "So where's the fun part?"
I roll my eyes at him and shift my attention back to the girl who squeals about wanting to be the first to start the game.
"Never have I ever stuck a gum under a desk."
I take a sip from my drink, and so does everyone, excluding Noah.
"That's messed up," He tells me. I wave him off with a hand. The next person continues on with the game.
"Never have I ever said an 'I Love You' just to get laid."
Every one of the guys takes a swig of their drinks in response to that, and I'm not even surprised by the outcome.
"So you've been lying the whole time?" One girl says to her boyfriend, disgust evident in her tone. "You only wanted to get laid?"
"Well- I..."
"Let's go." She drags him by the arm before he can say anything else. "We're going to take a romantic walk through the cemetery to show you where you gon end up if you keep playing with me."
We all watch them bicker their way out of our sights and carry on with the game like our question didn't just ruin someone's chance of getting laid tonight.
"Never have I stopped remembering my first love."
My hand stills.
Reluctantly, I look down at the liquor dancing in my cup and see my reflection in it. Sad eyes stare back. I should drink it, it's just a game.
I tighten my hands around the cup and mentally force myself to bring it up to my mouth, but I gasp when I see His reflection staring back instead of mine. The cup slips from my hand and lands on the floor, spilling liquid everywhere.
"I need to go." I say to no one in particular, hurrying out of the gathering and heading straight to the building.
Sadness worms it's way in and makes my chest sting. I wish life was much easier. I wish we don't have that someone we don't speak much about. Someone whose name churns our stomachs and the remembrance of their scents fills our souls with nostalgia. Someone who was everything to us, who held our world when everything didn't make sense. That one person whom we are trying to forget about, but when loneliness creeps in and suddenly the memories starts flashing again, the journey to forget them becomes impossible. I wish we didn't have that person who shatters us a little more than the rest of the world.
But all our wishes don't come true, do they?
I strip off my clothes and let the cold water hit my back, calming my nerves and soothing my bones.
The bed dips when I climb on it after changing into my favorite pajamas and putting my phone on my nightstand.
Current mood? Dim lights, soft songs, eyes shut, a pillow to hug and music caressing my tired soul.
I'm halfway into a deep slumber when I hear my phone vibrate with a message. Sluggishly, I pick it up and unlock the password, reading the sentence on my screen with half opened eyes.
I waited. - Cory.
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