JAMES
Someone(or something?) is pounding my skull with a jackhammer.
It's the first thing I notice as I slowly wake up. The second is the warmth of the naked body half resting on mine. I glance to the side, but all I can make out is honey-colored hair. I don't remember leaving Wren's party with someone. To be honest, I don't even remember leaving the party. I close my eyes again and try to conjure up images from last night, but all that comes to mind are incoherent shreds of thoughts: me, drunk on a table; Wren's loud laughter when I fall and land on the floor in front of her feet; Alistair's warning look when I dance clinging to his older sister and press tightly against her back.
Fuck.
I carefully raise my hand and brush the hair from the girl's forehead.
Fuck, fuck!
Alistair is going to kill me.
I sit up suddenly. A sharp pain pierces my head and for a few seconds darkness envelops me. Elaine murmurs something incomprehensible next to me and turns to the other side. At the same time, I realize that the jackhammer is actually my phone, vibrating on the nightstand. I ignore it and search for my clothes on the floor. I find one shoe next to the bed, the other right in front of the door, underneath the black trousers and belt. The shirt is on top of the brown leather armchair. When I put it on and start to button up, I notice it's missing a couple of buttons. I sigh deeply and hope with all my soul that Alistair is no longer around. Better he doesn't see the torn shirt or the red scratches that Elaine has left on my chest with her pink-painted nails.
The phone vibrates again. I glance at the screen and my father's name lights up. Fantastic. It's almost two o'clock on a school day, it feels like my head is about to explode at any moment, and it's pretty certain that tonight I've hooked up with Elaine Ellington. The last thing I need now is to hear my father's voice. I decide to reject the call.
What I do need is a shower. And clean clothes. I stealthily leave Wren's guest room and close the door behind me as quietly as possible. I go downstairs and come across signs of last night: a bra and several other garments hang on the stair railing; in the hallway, there are scattered glasses, cups, and plates with food remnants. The air is filled with the smell of alcohol and smoke. It's obvious that a party was celebrated here just a few hours ago.
I run into Cyril and Keshav in the living room. Cyril is passed out on Wren's parents' expensive white sofa, and Kesh is sitting in the armchair next to the fireplace. On his lap is comfortably seated a girl who has her hands buried in his long, dark hair, and she kisses him passionately. Seeing them, you'd think the party is about to start again. When Kesh detaches himself from her for a moment and sees me, he throws his head back and lets out a laugh. As I pass by his side, I show him the middle finger.
The imposing glass doors leading to the Fitzgeralds' garden are wide open. I step out and have to squint my eyes. The sunlight isn't particularly dazzling, but it feels like a
firecracker in my temples. I look around cautiously. The outside looks no better than the inside of the house. Quite the contrary.
I spot Wren and Alistair on the hammocks by the pool.
They have their arms crossed behind their heads and are shielding their eyes with sunglasses. I hesitate for a few seconds, but then I head towards them.
-Beaufort -says Wren, lifting her glasses and placing them on her black, curly hair. Although she smiles broadly, I can see the paleness of her brown skin. She must have a hangover as strong as mine-. How was your night?
-I honestly don't remember it well -I reply, daring to look at Alistair.
-Screw you, Beaufort -he says without looking at me. Under the midday sun, his hair shines golden-. I already told you to keep your hands off my sister.
I expected him to react like that. Unmoved, I raise an eyebrow.
-I didn't force her into my bed. Don't act as if she can't decide for herself who she wants to hook up with.
Alistair grimaces in annoyance and mutters something incomprehensible.
I hope he gets over it and doesn't hold this against me forever, after all, I can't turn back time. And honestly, I don't feel like justifying myself in front of my friends. I have enough of that to do at home already.
-Be careful not to break her heart -Alistair says after a while, looking at me through the mirror lenses of his aviator glasses.
Although I can't see his eyes, I know he's not looking at me angrily, but rather resignedly.
-Elaine has known James since they were five years old -Wren intervenes-.
She knows perfectly well what to expect from him.
Wren is right. Both Elaine and I knew what we were getting into. And although I barely remember anything, I still hear in my ear her
panting voice: 'This only happens once, James. Just once.'
Alistair doesn't want to accept it, but his sister enjoys life as much as I do.
-When your parents find out, they'll rush to announce your engagement -Wren adds after a while, amused.
I twist my mouth in annoyance. My parents have been insistent for years that I get engaged to Elaine Ellington or any other daughter from a wealthy family with a huge inheritance. But it's clear that at eighteen, I have better things to do than waste my time even thinking about who or what will cross my path when I graduate.
Alistair snorts in disdain as well. He seems as unenthusiastic as I am at the idea of having to greet me in the future as a new member of his family. I put my hand on my chest, feigning offense.
-It seems you don't want me to become your brother-in-law...
He places the glasses on his wavy hair and glares at me.
Slowly, like a predator, he rises from the hammock. Although he's slim, I know how strong and fast he can be. I've experienced it several times on my own skin during training.
By the way he looks at me, I suspect what he intends.
-I'm warning you, Alistair -I protest, taking a step back.
In the blink of an eye, he's in front of me.
-I've warned you too -he replies-. But, unfortunately, you didn't listen.
And then he gives me a strong push in the chest. I stagger backward and fall straight into the pool. The impact leaves me breathless, and for a few seconds, I don't know where up and down are. Water gets into my ears, and the pain throbbing in my head worsens much more under the water."
But I don't immediately rise to the surface. I relax my body and remain in the same position, face down. I gaze at the pool tiles, which I can only see in a blur, and mentally count the seconds. I close my eyes for a moment. A soothing silence reigns. However, after half a minute, I run out of air and the pressure on my chest increases. I let out one last dramatic bubble of air, keep waiting, and then...
Alistair jumps into the pool and grabs me. He pulls me to the surface and when I open my eyes and see his frightened look, I can't help but laugh as I catch my breath.
-Beaufort! -he yells furiously, pouncing on me. He punches me in the side (damn, he hits hard), and tries to immobilize me with a hold. But, since he's shorter than me, it doesn't go as he expects. We struggle for a while and in the end, I manage to grab him. I lift him with ease and throw him as far away from me as possible. Wren's laughter reaches my ears when Alistair plunges back into the water with a big splash.
When he comes back to the surface, for a few seconds he looks at me with such rage that I start laughing again. Alistair, like all the Ellingtons, has a total angel face. Even when he wants to look threatening, his light brown eyes, along with his blond curls and the features of his face, disgustingly perfect, prevent him.
-You're an idiot -he says, splashing me.
I wipe my face with my hand.
-I'm sorry, dude.
-It's okay -he answers, although he keeps splashing water on me.
I extend my arms and let him do it. At one point he stops and when I look at him, he's shaking his head with a smile. Then I know everything is okay.
-James? -I hear a familiar voice.
I turn around. My twin sister is at the edge of the pool, blocking the sun from me. She wasn't at the party yesterday, and for a moment I think she's going to give me a hard time because today the guys and I didn't go to class.
But then, when I look at her more closely, I freeze: her shoulders are slumped, and her arms hang limp at her sides. She avoids looking at me, her gaze fixed on her feet.
I swim towards her as fast as I can and get out of the pool. I don't care about being all wet: I grab her by the arms and force her to lift her face and look at me. My stomach tightens. Lydia's face is red and swollen; she must have been crying.
"What's wrong?" I ask, holding her a little tighter.
She wants to turn her head away, but I don't let her. I hold her chin so she can't avoid my gaze. Tears glisten in her eyes. My throat feels dry.
"James", she whispers hoarsely, "I fucked up."