3Summary: My reason? Nothing big. I just thought it'd be fun to try and accept Veronica's offer for once in my life. To go to a popular boy's party and drink and dance and forget all about my worries for just one night. I had no idea what that one decision was about to do to me. I was about to find out the consequences to being a Party Animal. And dear god, trust me, it was not pretty.
Genre: Drama/Romance/Humor/Hurt-slash-Comfort
Warning: Femslash included, and language content.
Note: Life is a cucumber. And remember to eat your vegetables. Irrelevant information that you should take into account. Cheerios.
Chapter One
Can I just say this wasn't my idea. At all. I mean, my idea of a perfect Saturday night is staying home eating Cheezels and watching the Lion King for the umpteenth time with my kid sister. This wasn't in my routine at all. So I can easily blame Veronica for this whole thing happening. But I know if I do, I'll be no better than Jesse the halfback, who sold Zayn out the first chance he got. So I keep my mouth shut. I sit here with the music boy from my homeroom class, Jesse the backstabbing halfback, the freakishly tall chick I saw back at the party and Victoria the future stripper, with my lip throbbing from the bruise I earned, and half-asleep because we've been sitting here for the past hour now.
Gosh, how I wish I had just stayed home tonight.
Freakishly tall girl turns to me. She's a head taller, so I literally have to look up at her to match her gaze. "You okay?" She asks, observing my lip. "You look like shit."
I ignore the back-hand comment in that, and force out a smirk. "You should've seen the other guy." Actually, 'the other guy' was Zayn, and I threw a punch at him sure but he dodged it easy.
"What's your name?" She asks.
Why am I finding it so hard to remember? "Um. Ivy."
"That took you a while."
"Sorry. Brain's dysfunctioning."
"Jillian McIntyre."
Wow, full name too. "That's a nice name."
She smiles down at me. "Thanks. So is Ivy."
Our conversation ends after Victoria the future stripper dips her head onto my shoulder. I cringe. Doesn't she know I have personal touching issues? Doesn't she know her boobs are extremely large and they're peeking through her slightly transparent black blouse? Doesn't she know I'm bisexual and I find her breasts a huge turn-on?
An officer comes up to us, his back straight and his face morbid as if he's about ready to start an interrogation. He eyes each one of us carefully, burning hot gaze not once faltering nor wavering. Guess that's what cops are trained to do. Have intense gazes and stuff.
"Convicted of vandalism, public disturbance of peace, underage drinking and violence. You plead not guilty. Tell me why I should believe that."
Well, there is no reason you should believe that. The bruise on my lip just proves the violence thing is true. Vandalism? Well, we were pretty much caught tearing up the local store like there's no tomorrow. Public disturbance of peace most probably boiled down to the moment we started singing 'We Are Young' in front of Jesse's neighborhood, and underage drinking... Well, that speaks for itself, really.
So, no. There is no reason why this officer should believe we're not guilty.
But Jesse's a natural born two-faced liar. "Officer, sir, we were just giong through the motions." He shrugs, and flashes an almost charming smile. "The drinking thing, sure, we might've had a few things to do with it. But everything else was ordered by a higher source!" What the heck is this guy babbling about? "His name is Zayn-"
"I've heard this a thousand times from you, blonde."
Jesse frowns at the nickname.
"And we've contacted this 'Zayn' boy. He's happily sober and situated at home."
Wow, Zayn actually managed to cover up his tracks. Looks like Jesse's brilliant plan isn't exactly falling through.
"But for the rest of you, who were caught red-handed, we're gonna have to do something about this. Letting you go with a warning was crossed out the minute we smelt your alcohol-ridden breaths so I'll give you a few choices here, okay? Provided, of course, you cooperate. 6 footer, what happened at the convenience store?"
He obviously meant Jillian, considering she was the tallest one here. But she didn't look too pleased with the nickname. "We trashed it."
Jesse and I shoot her a look of alarm.
The officer glares. "Why?"
"Because Zayn said they were selling cheap booze. And Jesse and Art wanted so desperately to see if they could get their hands on them to prove to Zayn and his buddies that they're party material."
It's hard to believe she's ignorant enough to confess the whole truth to an officer despite our very fate resting in his hands. But apparently this girl doesn't care much for the fact that she might've just sentenced us all to a three-week arrest.
The officer, however, just looks kind of relieved. At having been told the truth, I understand how relief would be an emotion to be felt. "Beanie boy, what happened at Rose Street?"
That's Jesse's neighborhood. He must be talking about when we sang We Are Young. We sang it pretty loud too. Loud enough for the whole nighborhood to hear. Sadly, we weren't exactly in sync so it was a pretty bad choir.
The music boy from my homeroom class, whom I now remember is named Art, looks up at the officer with wide, unblinking eyes. Gosh, he looks terrified.
"Um, nevermind." The officer turns away, looking a little taken back by Art's sudden expression. "How about you, black top?" He directs his gaze to Victoria instead.
Victoria stirs in her sleep, and sits in an upright position, bringing her head away from my shoulder. She blinks a few times, wipes her eyes, and looks up at the officer.
"Where am I?"
A chain of eye-rolling begins, the officer included. "You're in the police department. And I'm gonna need you to tell me what happened at Rose Street."
"Rose Street?" She repeats, sounding unbelievably lost.
Jesse speaks on her behalf. "Victoria isn't gonna remember anything from the amount of alcohol she consumed. There's no point trying to get her to fess up."
"Well, I certainly ain't getting my answers from you, dixie boy the liar of the gang, or him," He gestures to Art. "To cut things short, I should probably just turn to the only honest source in this hum-drum group." And, of course, he turns to Jillian.
Jesse still looks a little stunned at having been called 'dixie boy', and Victoria's still trying to recover from her memory loss. Jillian matches the cop's intense gaze, and sighs.
"We were dared. By one of Zayn's buddies. Rose Street was a clean-cut neighborhood, with the best people and the sickest positivity rate ever so he told us to change that. To see how they would react to a bunch of teens waking them up in the middle of the night screaming and singing songs they obviously didn't know." She turns her gaze to me all of a sudden. "We got away with most of it."
The officer contemplates this, before turning to look at me. Oh crab burgers, his gaze is pretty intense. I squirm in my seat, and look down to avoid him.
"You look to be the one who got the worst of the trade, lip bruise. How'd you get that mark on your face?"
The way he called me lip bruise kind of suggested that he was literally calling me a lip bruise. As if I, as a whole being, am a lip bruise. Well, that's a little rude.
The way the officer is looking at me expectantly snaps me out of my semi-dazed state. I clear my throat and respond with a small voice, "Someone punched me."
The officer doesn't look amused. Hesitantly, I rethink my words and respond with a shaky voice. "I was with Zayn. W-We were both pretty intoxicated. I can't remember if I said something wrong or did something bad but he took a swig at me. Got me on the lip."
"Pretty good too."
I ignore that comment from Jillian.
"Did you fight back?" The cop asks.
Without words, I look up at him, and he turns away with an almost smug expression. Hey! Just because I lack the physical quantities of a capable fighter doesn't mean that- Oh what the hell, we both know that I didn't fight back.
The cop lets his expression harden, and sighs through his nose. "Well, judging from what I've been told there seems to only be a few options left for you guys to choose from. Despite what I said earlier, a confession from the party charged narrows the choices down to only two."
Jillian asks, "What're the options?"
"The first one, I arrest all of you. A four-week prison-arrest in the State Juvenile Hall."
Art and I share a look of horror.
"Or the second one. And this is cause I'm a good man and I think you're all misguided kids with hormonal strikes to drink and party. I assign you all to community service. For three months. With the local Church."
Wait, what?
He's kidding, right?
That's the simplest thing I've ever heard!
"We'll take the first choice."
Victoria flings her high heeled shoe at Jesse. "What?! Are you insane?"
He glares back at her. "I'm not going to do 'community service' for some Church! I'm Jewish, bitch!"
"It doesn't matter! I am not going to Juvy."
"Why? You'd fit right in!"
Somehow, Jillian and I are caught between this messy argument. And the cop doesn't look too happy about it either.
"Will you two shut up?!" He glares at them, causing them both to instantly pipe down. Sighing, he rubs his temples and shakes his head. "This is a group decision. So I'll give you five minutes to decide. If you do pick the second choice however, I'll dismiss you all tonight. But you guys will have to be at St. Marcus' Church tomorrow by 6AM. Bright and early. Got that?"
All five of us exchange glances and nod. He nods back, and walks away.
Jillian glares at Jesse. "If you think we're all gonna go to Juvy just cause you're a Jew, you're fucking mad." I flinch at the hate word.
"I never asked for your opinion, lady long giraffe."
"You fucking pest."
Victoria leans over me, obviously failing to notice the fact that I'm even here. I have to hold my breath for a second at the smell of the alcohol on her clothes. "Jesse, you dick. We're not going to Juvy. Suck it up and take this community service bullshit like a man! I mean, beanie boy agrees. Right?"
Art glances at Victoria fearfully.
"Fine!" Jesse groans and covers his face. "We'll do this stupid community thingy! But I don't want to hold hands and sing to Christ. I'm not that kind of guy."
How can you not believe in Jesus Christ? Don't Jewish believe in him too? Well, I don't know much about religion outside of my own religion. I'm a Christian. Plus my family's pretty religious. We go to Church every Friday and Sunday and help the needy whenever there's a cause for it. So this community service thing really isn't much of a big deal for me. I guess it's a different case for these four, huh?
"Okay, good." Jillian pushes them both away, and stands up. She turns to face us, but her gaze lingers on me a little longer than the rest. "I'll tell that cop that we choose the second option. So we all can go home now."
"And we'll see each other tomorrow?" Well, not really tomorrow. In 2 hours.
Jillian smiles at me. Almost seductively. "Exactly."
As she leaves, the rest of us start standing up and making our way out. I linger behind for a few seconds, letting my inner conscious soak it all in. Soon, I'm the only one left sitting here. In this Police Department. With the bottom of my lip bruised and bloody, and my eyes probably black from the smudged mascarra. I never should've gone out tonight.
I stand up finally, and make my way out.
I stop just after exiting through the front doors, facing the road, with the cold 4am air whipping through my face like a dramatic Titanic movie. I turn slightly to my right, and freeze.
Victoria stares at me, smiles and nods. "Hey."
I smile back. Slightly. "Hi."
She has a lighted cigarette in her mouth. She rubs her hands together, and takes the cigarette out before breathing out a puff of smoke.
"You're Ivy, right?"
I nod. "Yeah. Ivy Scoots."
She laughs, and gestures for me to come closer. "You got a pretty nasty bruise there, Scoots."
I shuffle a little bit closer to her. She notices my hesitation.
"Would you relax? I'm not gonna bite you or anything, geez."
"Sorry." I turn away slightly. "I don't really like the smell of smoke."
I can tell she's amused. "You don't smoke?"
"Not at all."
"Wanna try it out?"
"No, thank you."
"Polite too." She chuckles and shakes her head. "You're a picture perfect of lovely Sandy from Grease."
I have to admit, I'm a little surprised. "You know Grease?"
"Have I been living under a rock? Hell yeah I know Grease. I mean, that movie has more cameltoe moments than I can count, but if they got the junk to show off, I don't see why not."
Okay, that's a bit more like the Victoria Jackman everyone in school knows. She tucks a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear, and blows out another puff of smoke. "So Ivy, how'd you get caught up in Zayn's party anyways? Judging from your personality so far and your sickeningly sweet looks, I'd say you don't really go out much, especially not to places like those."
"A friend invited me."
"Who?"
"Veronica."
"Veronica, as in Zayn's half-sister Veronica?"
I nod.
"How d'you know her?"
I shuffle my feet, shoving my hands into my jacket to keep frostbite from happening.
"She was my lab partner."
"Is that so?" She breathes out smoke again. "Do you know her well?"
"Well enough to be considered her friend."
"Well enough to kiss her?"
"What?"
Victoria looks at me from the corner of her eye. Something smug lies within her eyes. Something I don't feel like engaging.
"She has a reputation, y'know."
"Veronica? I know. She's Zayn's half-sister. That's reputation enough."
"Well, she also has a thick list of ex girlfriends. Why do you think she's never had a boyfriend before?"
That's not of my business. I thought about it before. But I never brought it up in front of her. I'm just fortunate she considers me a friend. I don't want to snap the line I'd tried so hard to keep straight.
"It's getting late. I should be getting home." I say, my voice softer than usual. I can see Victoria's smirk from the corner of my eye. I give her one last glance, before walking away.
"Good luck with your parents, Scoots."
I wince, but I don't turn around. Instead I continue on my way home.
I have nothing against Victoria Jackman. But the only reason I've isolated myself from the popular people is precisely because of people like her. She's egoistic, arrogant and hard to handle. Totally high maintenance. She doesn't care about anyone but herself. Okay, maybe that's a little harsh. I'm sorry. I don't mean it in a cruel way. I'm sure Victoria's a nice person at heart. But she can be pretty vindictive. Especially since she's the heiress of the Jackman family. I can't help but turn my head one last time to look over my shoulder at the direction of the Police Department. But in the place of where Victoria stood, is nothing but darkness. I turn my gaze forward, and shrug my jacket closer towards my neck.
I have about an hour and a half till our community service starts. I'm not exactly excited for it. But it's not like I'm devastated either. I mean, going to Church every morning to help other people with the four most troublemaking students in school is not an ideal morning activity, but it's something!
I see my plain white house peeking just between two large oak trees a few feet away. Mum and dad are probably still home. The PD definitely called my parents to tell them about my little disaster, and dad's probably in the living room, fuming, with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on the blank television. Mum, on the other hand, is probably doing the thing she always does when she's under pressure or frustration; Cook. So there're two sides to this, really. I'm gonna get grounded, in addition to my community service, with a ban from tv and computers for a month or so. But I'm also gonna get to eat one of mum's delicious dishes. It's a win-win situation. And at this point, the thought of eating one of mum's homemade dishes at home is definitely alluring.
In retrospect, I think this story contradicts with both Phoenix Tattoo and Drop Dead Gorgeous, considering the main character is all innocent and goody-two-shoes, unlike Juliet and Nightly. I have more fun writing with smug protagonists but writing with protagonists like Sandy from Grease has it's upside too. Like being able to explore more depth in character development and so on so forth. Or maybe it's the other way around.
Doesn't matter! Life is a cucumber when you're a Party Animal!
*Edit: I fixed up a couple sentences and grammar/vocabulary mistakes considering it hurt a little to read through this again. I swear, my English is sometimes very very not good.
-K