New year, new sorrow

Drew's eyebrows were threatening to disappear into his unruly black hair. "Wow. You actually look cool."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Thanks to Laney." My so-called best friend had forced me into an uncomfortable, lacy black mini dress and knee-high black leather boots that I couldn't walk in to save my life. My makeup was equally ridiculous; my eye shadow was a glittering pitch black and my under eyes were lined with the same shade of black eyeliner. Laney said it made me look mysterious, but I thought it made me look like a raccoon. And to top it all off, my lips were the darkest shade of red she could find. Overall, I felt like a slutty vampire.

The only part of my appearance I liked was my hairstyle. Laney had straightened my naturally curly hair, then spent an hour gelling and spraying it into a stiff, stylized Mohawk. It made me wish I was hardcore enough to pull it off on a daily basis.

Looking at Drew, I realized that he actually looked a little decked out as well. "You don't look half bad yourself."

He was wearing a pair of fitted blue jeans, a white V-neck T-shirt and a black leather jacket with all sorts of zippers and snaps. The entire ensemble made him look like a wannabe biker.

"Well, gotta ring the New Year in right," he said breezily as he fluffed his already unruly curly hair. "Not to mention, the cellist from my orchestra is coming tonight and I really want to make an impression."

"Well if you want her to think you're an insufferable hipster douche, you definitely accomplished it," I heard Laney sneer from behind me. I turned around and sure enough, Laney finally descended her massive staircase in a silver-sequined mini dress and a pair of red high heels. She looked absolutely fabulous in a ridiculous way.

"You're just jealous because I'll be the hottest looking guy at your party," he smirked back.

"What time does this thing even start?" I asked.

"I told people to come at nine," Laney said as she adjusted one of the bangles hanging off her thin wrists. "Which means most people will probably start showing up closer to ten."

I checked the clock on the wall. It read a quarter to nine.

"Do you think we have enough drinks?" Laney asked, worrying her fat bottom lip with her top teeth. "Do you think I should go out and get some more before people start to show up?"

"You've already got six party cases of Smirnoff Ice, two handles of gin, three handles of vodka, everything from your parent's liquor cabinet, six twenty-four packs of Bud and a mini-keg," Drew reminded her. "You could open up your own liquor store if you wanted.

"So is that a yes?"

I rolled my eyes. I didn't know much about alcohol, so I decided to let them argue about it amongst themselves. "I'll start hiding the valuables."

A half hour later people started showing up. Laney and Drew had already taken a couple of shots, so they were nice and buzzed as people started filing in.

By ten fifteen, the party was in full swing. I recognized most of our senior class from Xavier and a few of the juniors. Then there were a lot of people I didn't know, including Drew's orchestra friends and Laney's drama camp people. However, just because I didn't know them didn't necessarily mean they didn't know me.

"Oh my God, you're that one chick that saved that one famous girl!" one of Drew's friends shouted drunkenly. "I saw you on the TV the other day! Total bummer about your boyfriend! He was a hottie, too!"

Drew heard his friend and saw my face from across the room and he came stumbling over seconds later. "Hey, Misty! Have I introduced you to my friend Alexis? She's one of the violists I go to school with and she's really funny…"

And even the people who did know me kept bringing up the subject that Laney promised I would forget. Allison Masters, who happened to be a rather weepy drunk, draped herself over my shoulder when she saw me and sobbed incessantly about my situation.

"It's…it's just so TRAGIC!" she wailed. "The two of you were perfect for each other and that slutty bimbo just waltzes in and takes him away from you! Who does she think she is anyway? That fucking BITCH!"

"It's okay," I murmured awkwardly as I patted her on the back. "It's okay. Johnny and I were just friends. We weren't in a relationship."

"But he was totally in love with you! You're his penguin!"

"Sorry?"

"Penguins mate for life and you're each other's penguins! SHE CAN'T GET IN THE WAY OF THAT! SHE CAN'T GET IN THE WAY OF TRUE LOVE!"

"Okay, then," I said a little uncomfortably. "I see you're drink's empty. Do you want me to get you another beer?"

"Oh." She pulled her face away from my shoulder and glanced down at her cup. I used that brief moment of freedom to escape.

And the questioning kept happening. Everywhere I turned, someone was asking me about Johnny and the relationship that we never had. No one would let me forget. Everyone kept ripping open the still fresh wounds and eventually, I had enough.

"Laney!" I shouted over the loud dance music. "Laney, mix me a drink!"

Her hazy face suddenly took on an expression of surprise. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!" I needed a distraction from Johnny's constant, never ending presence. Even when he wasn't anywhere near me, he was still there haunting me. I was desperate.

"Okay," Laney grinned. "What do you want me to make you?"

"Anything! I don't care!"

"Rock on!" Laney cried. Then she grabbed my hand and led me back to the kitchen where all the drinks were. There the atmosphere was a little quieter, so we didn't have to keep yelling back and forth.

We ducked behind the island counter where several coolers filled with different drinks lay. Laney flipped one of them open and started digging through the icy interior. "Let's start you off with a Smirnoff Ice. They taste like candy, but they do the trick." She pulled a bottle out of the cooler and flipped the cap off with the bottle opener on the counter. "Drink up, sweetheart!"

She was right; the first sip tasted like fizzy candy. I managed to finish it off in under five minutes to Laney's uproarious cheering. When I was done with the first one, she handed me another which I finished even faster.

"How you feeling, champ?" she asked when I threw away the second bottle.

"Great," I answered. In fact, I didn't feel a thing.

Drew, who had seen me take the second drink threw his arms around the two of us and shouted, "SHOTS!"

Everyone in the kitchen started yelling simultaneously and in a repetitive rhythm, "SHOT, SHOT, SHOT, SHOT-SHOT-SHOT, SHOT, SHOT, SHOT-SHOT-SHOT!"

"EVERYBODY!"

Before I could figure out what was going on, Laney produced two shot glasses seemingly out of nowhere and filled them with a clear liquid.

"Bottoms up!" she shouted as she handed me one. We clinked our glasses together and I threw my head back as I downed it in one swallow. Whatever was in the glass was much harder to take than the Smirnoff Ice and had me coughing as my eyes watered at the burning sensation.

"Whoo! Miri, way to be a fucking rock star!" Laney shouted as she pounded me on the back with congratulations. She poured me another shot and this time, Drew and I downed one together.

Half an hour later I was definitely feeling it. The floor kept swaying back and forth and it was more difficult than ever to navigate the living room in my borrowed boots. But my brain felt blissfully hazy and all I could concentrate on was the music. The bass vibrated in my bones and the alcohol loosened my joints until all I wanted to do was dance.

"I never knew you were such a partier, Miri!" someone laughed. I couldn't tell who it was, but he or she stuck a hand out for high five and I happily obliged.

"Yeah, rock on, Miri!" another person chimed in.

"Thanks!" I grinned. Then I grabbed the nearest person and started dancing with him (or her, I couldn't really tell).

It turned out the person I was dancing with was a guy because he leaned in and whispered in my ear, "That Johnny kid was a fucking idiot."

Ugh, there he was again. At the mention of Johnny, I abruptly pulled away and left the living room for another drink. This time I took a beer and started sipping it instead of downing it. Even in my inebriated state, I knew it was probably best for me to drink this one slowly.

As all the alcohol started to hit me, my body temperature started to rise, and the volume of bodies packed so tightly in the living room wasn't helping. So I stepped outside for a moment to breathe and cool down a little bit.

The cold winter air hit me like a wall, but it felt refreshing on my heated skin. As I walked farther and farther onto Laney's porch, my toe caught on something in the ground. Before I could topple over, however, someone warm and rather solid caught me.

"Whoa, there," a deep voice murmured above me.

I looked up and shock rattled through me. My savior was none other than Maxwell Thompson, the very object of my three-year high school obsession. He was my pre-Johnny Johnny.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded, which made the spinning a little worse. "Yeah, I'm good." Then I giggled a little when I realized that I was talking to Maxwell Thompson, probably the hottest guy at Xavier. Just months ago I would have died for an opportunity like this.

He grinned down widely at me and I melted a little. Maxwell really was one of the hottest men I had ever seen before. He had dark brown hair that was slicked back like a greaser from the sixties and chocolatey, brooding eyes that would have drowned any other girl in their mystery.

But as beautiful as they were, they still weren't the crystal blue pair that I didn't want to admit I wanted. At the memory of Johnny's eyes, I took another swig of my beer.

"I didn't know you were such a drinker," he commented.

"I'm not usually," I giggled. "But hey! It's the New Year! Why not have a little fun?"

"Of course," he smiled.

I smiled back at him, but for some reason the ground just wouldn't stay put. I started to fall for a second time, and Maxwell caught me again and we both laughed.

"Here, how about we take a seat for a little while?" he suggested gently as he led me to the front steps. Then he lowered me by the waist into a sitting position. Only when he was sure I wasn't going to fall over again did he let go.

"Thanks," I beamed at him as he took a seat on the step right beside me.

"No problem," he answered.

We were silent for a little while. The haziness in my brain made everything around me spin, even when I was sitting securely on the ground. We could still hear the dance music playing from inside the house and I swayed a little to the sound.

"So how's your break been so far?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Pretty lazy. I wrote a couple of songs, but I don't know if they're any good."

"Oh yeah? What're they about?"

He laughed with embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, well…they're about a girl who doesn't really know I exist."

I gaped at him. "You can't be serious. You're like, the most noticeable guy at school. Every girl knows you exist."

This seemed to amuse him. "Oh really?"

I nodded emphatically. "Really. All the girls in my painting classes want you to come in one day and be our male model." Then I giggled at the thought of Maxwell Thompson being naked in the center of our art studio. Now that would be a work of art.

"Including you?"

I nodded. Under any other circumstances, I would have been horrified that I was admitting this to Maxwell Thompson of all people, but my liquor-soaked brain just didn't care. "Definitely." Then I giggled again.

"I might have to take you guys up on that," he murmured. He was staring at me with those mysterious pools of chocolate and I blushed. Luckily there wasn't much light outside so he wouldn't have been able to see it.

"So sing me the song."

He frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Sing me the song," I insisted. "I want to hear it."

"I don't know if it's any good," he stalled uncomfortably. "You might think it's shit. I don't want to embarrass myself in front of you."

"Psh," I waved away his concerns with a drunken wave of my hand. "You couldn't write a shitty song if you tried. You're, like, the best songwriter in school." Then I gasped when I realized what I was saying. "Don't tell Drew I said that. He'll be devastated."

"I won't," he promised with a wry grin.

"Good." I took another swig of my beer, then prodded him again. "So go on. I want to hear you sing. Please?"

He sighed. "I don't have my guitar!"

"Sing without it!"

"I can't do that," he said solemnly. "My guitar's my lifeline. It's like my musical crutch. I can't sing or write without it."

I stuck my tongue out at him to tell him what I thought of his musical crutch. "Fine then. You'll just have to sing it for me later."

The smoldering gaze was back and it almost made my heart stop. Almost. "It's a date, then."

As if to reflect the mood between us, the music inside transitioned into a slow R&B number that you were supposed to sway to. I scowled at this; I wanted a hard dance beat, not slow jams.

"Do you want to dance?" Maxwell asked.

I shook my head. Again, a problem. "No," I said dizzily. "I can barely walk in these boots, much less slow dance in them."

He chuckled. "I'll make sure you don't fall."

I raised my eyebrows at him, then shrugged. "Fine. But if I end up taking us both down, you have only yourself to blame."

"Fair enough."

I finished off the rest of my beer and he gently helped me to my feet. When I was upright, he took my arms and wrapped them around his neck and then wrapped his own around my waist.

A small part of my brain registered slight discomfort; a boy I hardly knew was dancing awfully close to me, but the rest of my brain didn't care because it was Maxwell freaking Thompson. Just a year ago I would have given my right eyeball to be this close to him.

"Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?" he murmured. His face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath on my cheeks. It smelled like mint mixed with another sweet, cloying scent that reminded me a lot of incense and marijuana smoke.

"No," I whispered. "You think I look beautiful?"

"I'm not the only one. Every guy in there was staring at you like you were water in the Sahara Desert. It made me a little jealous."

That made me laugh. "Why, because you want them to look at you like that?"

He shook his head. "No. Because I want you for myself."

This time my heart stuttered to a complete stop as his words sunk in.

We stopped swaying, instead just staring at one another for what felt like hours. Never in my wildest dreams would I have believed that Maxwell Thompson noticed me. He was the unattainable dream of every girl at Xavier and he had just professed his interest in me. This couldn't be happening. I had to be dreaming.

My hazy brain realized that the music inside had stopped and everyone had begun counting down. I only tuned into the last half of the count and I realized that I was about to ring in the New Year in Maxwell Thompson's arms.

"FIVE!" Everyone shouted. "FOUR! ... THREE!"

But in spite of everything that had happened, in spite of Maxwell's heart-stopping confession, there was someone else I wanted. I didn't want Maxwell's chocolate brown eyes staring at me like I was his every wish come true. I wanted a pair of sapphire blue eyes instead. But they were the ones I could never have.

I guess I'd just have to make due with someone who actually wanted me.

"TWO! … ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

The celebration exploded inside and "Auld Lang Syne" started drifting through Laney's speakers.

"Happy New Year, Miri," Maxwell whispered before he closed the gap between us and took my lips with his.

It was only my second kiss ever, but even my inexperienced lips could tell that Maxwell was a skilled kisser. His minty fresh and pot infused lips moved expertly over mine, making my already unsteady knees turn to Jell-O. It wasn't long before my hands (of their own volition, I swear) moved up his neck and into his silky hair.

A deep groan resonated in the back of his throat and the sound sent shivers down my spine. Before I knew it, my entire body was pressed firmly against his and both our mouths were open, begging each other for more.

"Miri," he whispered as he pulled away from my lips and started trailing kisses along my jaw and down my neck. I never knew that kissing a neck could be so…sexy. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting."

He was right. I had no idea how long he'd been waiting, mostly because I didn't know he liked me. I felt his long eyelashes brush against the skin on my neck and I shivered.

"Let's take this inside," he growled and in my drunken, lusty haze, I nodded. So he wrapped one arm around my waist and helped me through the front door and back inside where the thumping dance music had come back and everyone was drinking and flailing about.

The temperature had spiked up the minute we walked inside and my already flushed skin did not appreciate it. It also didn't help that my body was still practically on fire from Maxwell's heated kisses.

The man himself took my hand and dragged me to the makeshift dance floor where he pulled me up close to him and started grinding his hips sensually into mine. I didn't know exactly what I was doing, but I moved as best as I could under the crowded circumstances. And anyway, Maxwell didn't seem to be complaining because his face was buried in the crook between my shoulder and my neck and I could hear his harsh gasps in my ears.

"Like I said, that Johnny kid was a fucking idiot," he whispered.

Johnny. Those haunting blue eyes drifted back to the front of my consciousness and it sliced me apart. Why couldn't I go one full minute without being reminded of him?

In desperation, I did the only thing I could think of to get Johnny's accusing blue eyes out of my brain. I pulled his face away from my neck and instead pulled it down to my lips. Our mouths met again in a clashing fury. It was pure heat, pure fire. It ignited in our kiss and trailed along every line where our bodies met.

After a few minutes, Maxwell abruptly pulled away, leaving me a little unfocused and confused. "Come on," he whispered. "Let's take this upstairs."

Too drunk to care or remember what usually goes on upstairs, I let him drag me by the arm and lead me to the winding staircase. We were halfway up when I heard Laney's faint shouts behind us.

"Hey!" she screamed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Seconds later she had reached our position. Her dark eyes were angrier and more dangerous than I had ever seen before as she glared at Maxwell. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she repeated as she ripped my hand out of his.

Maxwell glared at her. "None of your fucking business," he spat as he tried to take my arm again. But Laney wouldn't let him. Instead she moved in front of me as if to block Maxwell from getting to me.

"It is my business!" she shouted. "This is my house and she's my best friend! So why don't you take your overdramatic hormones somewhere else!"

"Fuck you, bitch!" he yelled. "It's not like I'm raping her! She wants it too!"

Laney's fury had reached its breaking point. With strength I hadn't known she possessed, she grabbed Maxwell by the arm and threw him back down the stairs. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" she bellowed as he tumbled down. "IF YOU EVER COME BACK HERE, I WILL CALL THE COPS AND HAVE YOU FUCKING ARRESTED! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

I stared in shock at what just happened and Maxwell looked pretty surprised himself. But he wasn't about to take it lying down.

"You fucking BITCH!" he screamed. Then he launched himself back up the stairs and at Laney. But before he even reached the first step, Drew stepped in and grabbed Maxwell from behind by both arms.

"That's enough!" Drew shouted. He struggled to restrain Maxwell and had to enlist the help of two other partygoers. "Laney said get out, so get the fuck out right now!"

Maxwell wasn't going out without a fight, apparently, because he continued to struggle. Then with the help of three more other guys, they managed to drag Maxwell away from the stairs and out the door.

I continued to stare after them in complete shock. I couldn't believe what had just happened. Or what was just about to happen.

"Miri?" Laney asked worriedly. "Miri, are you okay?"

I didn't hear her. I was too busy with the horrifying realizations of what would have happened if Laney hadn't stopped me in time. My head started spinning at the terrible thoughts and it did nothing to settle my nauseated stomach.

"Laney," I whispered as tears started streaming down my face. "Oh, God. Oh, God."

"Shh, it's all right," she murmured as she gathered me in her arms. "It's all right. Nothing happened."

That reminder still didn't help. And all the alcohol in my system only exacerbated the problem.

"I'm going to be sick," I announced before I abruptly pulled away from Laney and ran back up the stairs. Luckily for me I reached the bathroom just in time and all the contents of my stomach came back up with a vengeance.

Laney was at my side in an instant, holding my hair and rubbing my back. "There you go," she murmured soothingly. "It's okay. Just let it all out."

I did let it out, in addition to a lot of tears. "God, Laney, I can't believe what happened!" I sobbed in between puking sessions. The thought of tonight's transgressions only made me sicker.

"It's okay," she insisted. "Nothing irreparable happened, so you're okay."

A few minutes later, Drew entered the bathroom. "How's she doing?" he asked.

"Oh, you know. Just realizing the potentially disastrous consequences of what could have happened if we hadn't stepped in."

A fresh wave of nausea washed over me and I dry heaved.

"Poor Miri," Drew clucked. "I'll go get her some water."

"Good idea," Laney nodded. And I heard the door click open and shut behind him.

"Johnny," I groaned as his damn, pleading face (the last memory I had of him) came floating back to the surface of my consciousness. "I miss Johnny."

"I know," Laney whispered as she rubbed my back. "I know."

Drew came back a couple seconds later with a glass of cold water and I tipped it back gently. When I was finished, Laney helped me out of my boots and Drew carried me to Laney's room where they both tucked me into the side of the bed.

"Sleep it off, Miri," Laney murmured. "We'll be here in the morning."

I nodded and snuggled deeper into Laney's comfortable blankets. The minute I closed my eyes, I went out like a light bulb, only to be plagued by nightmares of Maxwell's lust-filled kisses and Johnny's regret-filled eyes.