Midnight Run

“Eugh, what was that?”

Emma laughed uncontrollably, her blonde hair falling across her face as she leaned to one side. “I d-don’t know,” she hiccuped. “Whiskey?”

“Nah, it was something else,” challenged a guest to my left. “I’m saying rum.”

Emma chortled, swaying from side to side and jolting her shoulders to the beat of the song. By this point it was past midnight, and past any chance of her getting home in a reasonable state (if at all). She hiccuped again, this time covering her mouth as a look of slight alarm momentarily passed across her face.

“Puke on me and you die,” I warned, putting down my empty cup and taking a corn chip. I popped it in my mouth, revelling in it’s cheesy flavour, and then grabbed a handful before heading off.

After parting ways with Tony, I hadn’t seen him at all. In all honesty, though, I had sort of found myself watching out for him: my eyes scanned over the crowds in search of his black snapback or his tall figure. I was experiencing that sort of intrigue you get with meeting someone new, especially in such circumstances, especially when their presence had luckil- Was it luck?

I popped another chip into my mouth.

I hadn’t really considered what to call it. If he hadn’t of been there, any number of bad things could have happened, namely me getting kidnapped for one. I wasn’t really a believer in luck, though; you have to work for what you want.

But I didn’t, I couldn’t, work for him to be there, I thought critically.

My mind strained to focus on the topic further, but I was soon brought the relief of distraction when I spotted Jem, in all her wobbly glory, hooking her arm around the neck of a tall redheaded guy. I smirked as I watched her go on her tiptoes, speaking words of lust into his ear.

“You don’t have a cup,” interrupted a soft, surprisingly steady voice.

I averted my gaze to see Tony sitting himself down next to me, dangling his feet over the pool edge.

“Not a big drinker,” I admitted. “Chip?”

He nodded, and I held out my palm. I didn’t know why, and to this day it feels pathetic to admit it, but my heart started beating a little faster when he picked one up, his fingers grazing my skin. It was the unknown; the lure of something different.

Pointing to my hand, he questioned the number sprawled across it, curiosity drawing him closer to me. I quickly ate the last chip and clasped my hands, shoving them between my thighs. “It’s a cab number,” I confessed, feeling a little lame. Most kids my age didn’t bother with things like that – half the fun of partying was the falling asleep somewhere weird.

“Huh,” was all I earned in response.

We sat there for a moment, in silence, and watched the party as it began to fizzle out. Kisses had become sloppy, words had become meaningless, everyone had began to lose their excited buzz. On the far side, by the fence, a small group of people had collected in a circle, a small bong being passed among them. Detached laughter of ignorant bliss travelled from them to us; I sighed.

Eventually Tony wandered off, following the call of a girl sitting by the patio doors, and I was left to enjoy the cool night air by myself. I dipped the very tip of my shoe into the water below and swirled it round, watching as ripples rolled away from me. I was tired – it was late, it had been a good night, and now I wanted it to end. Nothing sounded more enticing than the prospect of cosying up in my bed.

I went inside and searched around for the house phone to call my cab. With a waiting time of approximately 10 minutes, I figured I’d check up on the girls before I headed home. We may have always entered parties together, but rare was it that we left the same way. It didn’t take much searching to locate either of them – Emma was on the sofa, buried under a brown blanket, and Jem was in the kitchen mixing a drink. I made sure she was alright, at least to a degree, before heading outside the house.

I stood out on the front porch. I sat down on the front porch. I walked to the end of the drive. I sat at the end of the drive. Where the hell is my cab? It felt like hours had passed – they hadn’t, of course, but between my heavy eyes and poor choice of jacket time was crawling by at a painful pace. I grumbled unhappily and wrapped my arms around my legs, watching the turn in the road. I figured that, maybe, the longer I stared, the quicker it would come.

“Swear I’m not stalking you. Are you waiting on a cab?”

Tony came round on front of me, his car keys hooked round his index finger. I hummed in confirmation, too exhausted to even form actual words, and let a yawn, which I didn’t dare try and stifle, escape. He smirked slightly.

“You want a ride home?”

I rubbed my eyes. “You starting a cab company?”

“Maybe. Do you call cabs often?”

I looked up at him. His dark eyes were firmly on me, which caused some unease; I wondered what he was thinking, what he was seeing. I didn’t entirely care about his verdict, but I still thought about how he might perceive me. Back then I thought too much about how everyone might perceive me, I think.

With great difficulty, and an awkward groan, I lifted myself up off the ground, sore and stiff after having sat there for so long. “Are you sure? I live like-“

“I know,” he chuckled, “remember?”

I didn’t bother replying.

Following him away from the house, I folded my arms across my chest as we began to walk down the street. I soon spotted his battered truck parked a few houses down. Little was said – in fact, nothing was said – as we got in and took off. It wasn’t uncomfortable, however; it was just that we were both tired.

The only words exchanged were the few reminders he needed to find his way to my house. Once there, or where I had been pretending to live rather, he cut the engine, glancing over at me from the driver’s seat.

“That’ll be $8,” he joked.

“$8 my ass,” I yawned. “How about, uh...” I tried to think of how I could repay him, without actually paying him. I didn’t have any weed on me, though, and I was fresh out of gum. I racked my brain for a response but nothing came. It got to the point where I began to consider actually giving him some money, to just pay for gas even, when he spoke.

“How about you give me your number?”

Notes

Thank you for the responses so far! This is so much fun, haha :') x