So this is first story here on fiction press, If you read and review I may just love you forever :)
It was loud. Music blared in every direction. Bright lights blinded me, making me wince. Students, first years to be specific, scattered across the building. It smelt of £10 alcohol, tasted strongly of smoke and whatever else they had been spraying trying to cover up the awful smell. They danced to the addictive beats, lyrics as unimportant as the people who sang them. I made my through the drunken crowd; half-naked orange colored girls giggled at a guy's not so funny joke. Then again anything's funny when you can't even think straight.
I remember feeling suffocated amidst the clouded smoke. As if I was distant from everyone else. The laminated floor squeaked as I made my way into the hallway trying not to trip over a broken bottle. It was occupied by a couple being way to open with their relationship. I was going to discreetly leave without anyone noticing; Stephanie wasn't even there anyway. I was never the type to drink until the world around me looked like blurred mixture of colours anyway.
At least 3 different girls wrapped their arms around my neck, expecting me to dance with them for no reason. The lip gloss, bleached hair, curios glances and high teenagers I just couldn't handle anymore . . .I never was one for parties, especially ones that involved getting pissed of your head and doing it with anything that moved. The first day of 6th form started in 2 days. The first day at my final year in a new college where I only knew about five people.
I wasn't even a first year, what was I doing there? I couldn't even remember. I was about to escape from the chaos as I clutched the handle of the corridor's door. Fiercely, I was grabbed by the neck in a much more aggressive manner than ever before. For god's sake!, another desperate girl . . . .at least I though it was but the hands clutched on to me felt to large to be a girl's. And then, that moment- that slightly scary, panic ridden moment which seemed to trigger everything occurred.
Someone with cold, smooth skin pulled me forward and pressed their soft lips against my own; my eyes were wide open, my brain did not know what to do in such a situation. My body and all of my possible reactions halted. All I could see was bright . . . bright blue- such an intoxicating colour. The person's hands ran leisurely through my hair as they viciously kissed me. As warmth entered my mouth, after 5 whole seconds, I finally came to my sentences and grabbed the person's slender arms, forcing them to let go (which wasn't really that hard seeing they were clearly incapable of standing themselves).
The real surprise was when I saw who exactly had given me the longed out kiss which tasted strongly of cheap booze and cigarettes. No tanned skin and jingly earrings. In fact, quite the opposite. A drunken lad was standing before. A actual male. I stared open mouthed at that unknown person completely shell-shocked. Every possible reaction ran through my head at lightning speed yet I failed to perform any of them. I never thought I'd snog a random person at a party, let alone a feller.
His hair was the deepest shade of black, it fell casually across his fore head like a curtain covering a window preventing light from getting through. Skin scarily pasty. Cheeks flushed. I remember thinking what on earth to do, which is strange, because I always knew what to do. Always. But it seemed that day was different, His tank top revealed skinny arms and a medium frame. He gave me a sinister smile, blackness surrounding his eyes; I felt like strangling him.
'You can't take that back,' he hiccuped drunkenly while trying to laugh. I stepped back whilst realizing the blue tones were his eyes, clear as day like newly formed crystals; wasted on an arsehole. I'd been warned about a someone with harsh blue eyes. I guessed that was him.
'You're that gay guy,' I said blankly. I was expecting a hurt expression. Instead he gave me some sort of smile.
'So what exactly does that make you then?' He said in his surprisingly normal voice. He moved closer. Too close . . .
'You're drunk.' I whisper as he reached up and played with my hair. The bottle in his hand falls to the ground.
'I fucking well know that' is the last thing I heard then he hurried to the toilet to throw up. Then I did something I rarely did; I ran. Right out of the over-populated place. As far away as possible from the atmosphere I hated so much. I punched the wall next to the local chippy in frustration. That guy . . .I knew who he was.
To my aversion I took out a scrunched up piece of paper in my pocket. Written across it in my own neat handwriting using a biro was where I was going to live and who with, a roommate I've never met. Well, up until that night that is. 'C14, Jo.' was all my Mam told me to write down. It was the flat I intended to live in and the lad I was going to live there with . I cringed. It was a shame that 'Jo' happened to be the one who just forced one on me- such a shame he had 'the same tastes' as my girlfriend. A whirlwind of possibilities ran through my mind. Cancel the rent and move somewhere else? It was too late for that. Awkward didn't even begin to describe what it was going to feel like to living with him. But . . . He wouldn't remember, right? Seeing he seemed pissed off his head that night I assumed so. I stayed calm. All I have to do is forget that it happened. Who cares if he's gay anyway? If I just treated him normally everything would be fine.
But of course I thought this before I got to know him. Shakily from the cold, I touched my swollen lips- the taste of smoke still lingered there.