Matters of the Hart

Chapter 17 - I fon foo hey funk.

High schools all over the globe had similar traditions throughout the year, give or take a few specific ones. No one dared break them. No one dared defy them. After a while one just inculcated those habits with oneself, not thinking about the whys and the hows.

Getting through the week was always a task.

Homework was branded incomplete in every class (this was not the case with me. I repeat, this point stood invalid where I was concerned).

You couldn't do it without Kit-Kats (I would 'duh', but you already know me by now).

The first word of expanded high-school vocabulary was always 'jerk' or 'nerd'.

Friday night parties where people vomited more than they weighed.

And lastly, there existed people like me who avoided going to such parties. The last time I went to one, a storm came into my life and it didn't even require me to get drunk.

Today when I got back from school after a full day of not seeing Nathaniel on campus after the second period, I had not even in my wildest dreams imagined that I'd ever spew these words out.

"I want to get drunk."

But since I had already well-mastered the art of face-planting into my pillow, my voice was muffled and hence my sentence pretty much sounded like, 'I fon foo hey funk'.

"Huh?" That would be Amelia Hart. I don't blame you, Lia-bear. I am as shocked at my sudden will to die of alcoholic hepatitis as you are.

Cole would be too and so would eighty percent of the school when I get drunk and somebody posts about me going skinny dipping in a bath-tub.

Wait, doesn't everybody goes skinny dipping in a bath-tub?

Yeah! Only, they call it bathing.

Right. Bathing.

I'd go bathing in a bath-tub. I wouldn't know. I would be drunk.

"What did you just say?" I felt movement beside me. Three seconds later, she hopped on top of my back, forcing the air out of my lungs. Quite literally.

Would you believe if I told you my twin was seventeen years old and she still didn't get the fact that she was grown up and weighed a lot? Not to mention, I wasn't a guy- guys loved rolling kittens. Me? I was dying of trauma-induced hypoxia. The point was, jumping on people by catching them off-guard was not advisable, especially for the safety of the one being treated as a bean-bag.

"Get off," I shook her off of me in desperation. Few seconds more and I would have said good-bye to the world. No, I was just exaggerating. I would have fainted and then Amelia would have gotten me Kit-Kats to get over her guilt. Shame. It would have been a win-win for both of us.

"Okay, okay," she rolled out and onto the little space next to me.

"Did I just hear you say that you want to get drunk?"

I smirked. "You did, indeed."

I watched her eyes widen in amusement, a naughty glint dancing along the rim of her irises.

"Who are you and what have you done with my baby sister?"

Nathaniel Knight was the most appropriate person to answer to second part of your question, Amelia. I sighed.

"I just want to go out, forget about this week and then wake up with a hangover tomorrow morning so I can refresh my memory as to why I don't like drinking. Does that answer work for you?" I frowned at her. Obviously I didn't argue about the baby sister part; there was no point. Just like the last four thousand times when I tried explaining the concept of twins and twin pregnancy to her. Nope. Zilch understanding on her part.

Acceptable or not, my answer still managed to amuse her. In plain and simple, lay-man terms - my sister was impossible.

"You do remember right, that the last time and the only time you went drinking, you danced on the ba—"

Nope. Not happening. I wasn't talking about it again, or ever for that matter.

"Shut-up," I snapped.

Lia looked at me for a good minute or two. I knew because I was looking at her too from the corner of my eyes, to watch her watch me. Creepy, I know. Slowly, the curve of her lips deepened and a full grin sat there, mocking my distressed state.

"Alright then! I'll tell Cole to pick us up." Yes, she even bothered to take all the trouble to emphasize on the word 'us' and give me a sly side-ways look as she texted Cole.

"Don't give me that look," I admonished, throwing my favourite pillow at her face. Duh, she ducked. More bad luck for me.

Lia laughed, swinging her phone back on the bed (yes, my bratty sister didn't care much about I-phones), picking up the pillow and throwing it back at me.

"Get some sleep, Tee," she stretched out. "It's going to be a long, long night."

I hope it is, Lia. I really do.

I closed my eyes in silence, obeying her commands. Although, I was really sleepy too. This past week only comprised me tossing and turning in bed. Not to forget that stupid voice in my head which kept mocking me for even thinking that Nathaniel could actually be decent enough to not regret the most special moment for me in a while.

"I shouldn't have done that," he had said.

But I guess what happened, happened and now it couldn't be undone. That is life. There is no delete or rewind. There is no undo or redo - there is a do. And what you do is your prerogative. You only get one shot at it.

He had a shot at it - I chose to give him one. But he successfully blew it off. I doubt there was anything left of us. Then why was there a part of me that still wanted him to be there at the party? Why did I still want to see him, or worse, want him to see me?

Why did I feel so empty today, when he walked out on me? I wasn't going to lie. I did provoke him, not intentionally though. I didn't think I would have to face him like that - in that setting with that less than meagre space between us.

I blatantly asked him to leave me alone. But why did I feel like he was already giving up?

Actually, I didn't get myself.

I wanted him to leave me alone. I wanted this for the sake of my sanity. Yet, when he did exactly what I wanted- I realised that I didn't like what I thought I wanted. Somehow, it always ended with him hurting me. Maybe it was me doing it to him and myself.

"Oh, Thea?"

Lia's voice came booming through once again, breaking my train of self-depreciating thoughts. Well, 'self-evaluating' to be more precise.

"Hm?" I mumbled as I snuggled deeper into my pillow as I heard some movement and a drawer being dragged as it shut.

"I really hope Nate comes to the party."

Um…

Since when did Lia care about Nathaniel?

My brain's eyes widened. Wait, did she li—

"I'm going to kill him."

Oh, that's why. Of course Lia would figure it out.

Well, as much as I hated Nathaniel right now, I really, really hoped that he would not turn up tonight. As much as I would like to, Lia was not to be taken lightly.

**********

"So Thea Hart herself decided to attend the lustful event of sweaty people vomiting in fake plants?"

"Yes, Cole. I did."

"And this was not influenced by any life mishaps?"

If you only knew, boy.

"No, Cole."

"Alright, can you confirm this Amelia?"

Amelia rolled her eyes, grabbing Cole by the collar this time.

"For the third time, Finley. Just start the car and take us to the party. One more word and your precious leather seats will be painted," she breathed out, "...in blood," a sinister grin took over her perfectly sculpted features. I watched the whole exchange with wide eyes, some in amusement, and some in shock.

Cole scratched the back of his head, frowning. "Are you on your Japan?"

"What? No!" Amelia grimaced.

"Then why would there be blood on my car seat? God, Amelia. You are so weird," he shook his head as he inserted the key into the ignition and it came to life.

Just the kind of assurance I needed on a night I decided to get wild with vodka. Clearly, I was off to a great start to this night.

Amelia looked ready to kill. I looked amused. The only perfect part of the night was my outfit along with my make-up.

Perfectly applied eye-liner. Check.

Water-proof mascara. Check.

My favourite lip gloss. Check.

Highlights: on point.

Thea: Perfection.

Nah, just kidding. Although I would definitely say that I looked good tonight. Some might even say hot, but narcissism was not my thing. It was Lia's.

Lia who previously only looked ready to go in for the kill. Now, she also looked thirsty of blood. Cole's blood. But obviously, like the angel I was, I interjected.

"Just drive, Cole." I said, trying to calm the storm named Lia by rubbing her shoulder.

Storm.., my mind turned numb.

Would he be there? The heart questioned.

Stop, Thea. The mind argued.

But what will I tell him? My heart fluttered at that thought.

Shut up, Thea. This night is about you, not him. Not anyone else, I scolded my erratic heart, until the feeling almost died down. Almost.

The car ride post that was almost silent. Almost, except for the loud rock music that I hated with a passion. You might have guessed it by now; I wasn't exactly a loud person. I was more Coldplay than Kings of Leon. But that was just twenty minutes of the mad torture I had to bear all night. R.I.P eardrums.

When we reached the person's house who was hosting the party - I realised that there are different gradings of rich in this world.

Grade one: Bill Gates.

Grade two: Noah Stark

Grade three: Whoever's bar I was going to raid tonight.

Grade six thousand and eighty one: Thea Hart.

"I'm going to get a drink," I said, as we reached the makeshift dance floor, making air quotations around the word 'drink'. Lia threw her head back and laughed, followed by a confused Cole. But that was just every day.

"Okay, but don't get too drunk," she quoted back. I nodded, assuring her that I wouldn't.

*Two hours later*

"Ameelaa, my sister from the same mister," I yelled into her shoulder while I hugged her tightly and swayed us back and forth. Tears pricked my eyes as I did so.

"What happened to you?" she asked, hugging me back.

"I just…I missed your face," I spoke. The floor was spinning and the fan was spinning and...wait. There was no fan. Oops. That was a d**k-so ball.

"Aww," she cooed in my ear, rubbing her hands up and down my back. From a distance, I saw Noah and Luke approach. Trust me, I was never more excited to see their annoying faces. I guess alcohol made me a better person.

"Guys!" I jumped out of Amelia's arms and immediately onto Noah.

"I finally got a hug!" He hugged me back tighter, spinning me around. I let out a loud scream too, with a hiccup and a little giggle to cover it up. It didn't matter; the music was deafening.

"Don't bathe now," I laughed and he joined in. It was hot. I was sweating and my throat was too dry. I was frunk.

No. I meant shrunk.

Ugh. I actually meant drunk. Yeah, drunk.

"I'm going to get some more drink...to drink...because you cannot eat a drink!" I taught the kids. I would be a great teacher someday.

"I. Love. Vodka." I yelled on my way as I was skipping back to the bar. But I was tipsy. So I tripped.

Hence, I was not just a regular tipsy. I was a special kind of tipsy. I was trip-sy.

"Hey," the guy who I fell into said as he straightened me out.

"Thea, right?" his dimples shone bright under disco light as his eyes scanned over me. That rhymed!

"Cute dimps, blondie!" I yelled, turning away, but obviously, stilettos and drunk girls didn't get along. Of course, I fell into him again.

"Oops. Sorry," I waved my hand. "I forgive you though."

Blondie laughed. It was cute. Snorty, but cute.

"Do you want to dance with me?"

Cute? Yes.

Blonde? s**t, yes!

Not Nathaniel? Definitely not!

"Hell yes!" I screamed over the loud music. Some dumb beggar yelling into a speaker and calling himself a singer; probably a rocker.

"Absolutely not."

That was not me.

That was not even my inside voice.

That was not even Lia or her inside voice.

That was the guy, who my inside voice never wanted to talk to.

Blondie subsequently scampered away. So naturally, I tried too.

Let's just say, blondie got really lucky.

"What the f**k are you wearing?" he yelled, more to himself than to me. I didn't wince. Nope. Noppity nope. I was a brave girl.

"Clothes," I specified.

"Yeah, on your front. Your back is very naked."

Judgemental a-hole.

"Nathaniel, go away! I have to," I hiccup-ed, "...drink. Byeeeee," I turned around for the third time, only my third wasn't a charm. I tripped again and this time directly into his arms. Obviously I caught hold of his jacket first, but damn those muscles. My hands soon caught hold of his arms. His strong, sturdy, manly biceps.

"What are you doing?" he raised his eyebrows.

Can't you see? I'm feeling you up!

"You have strong muscles," I commented, pouting as I faked a thought process.

"Uh...thanks."

But, I didn't want a 'thank you'. I wanted a vodka.

"You've had enough. No more alcohol for you," he held me tightly in his arms. Oops, did I say that out loud?

The non-alcoholic part of me would love to have stayed there forever. Swaying to the beat, burying my face in his woody cologne.

But then, the alcoholic part showed up and it wanted to hug Lucas.

"Let me go! I want to hug Luke!" I struggled out of his embrace. To no avail.

"Luke?" he scrunched up his eyebrows, yelling over the loud music. "Why?"

"Because-oh there he is!" I spotted Luke out in the wild mess of people who had infiltrated the bar like it was nobody's business. I ran to Luke, literally, as I jumped into his arms. The good part, he caught me.

"Hey there, favourite girl," he smiled at me.

"Hiya, Lukey!" I smiled wider than I was with Nathaniel. Take that, Nathaniel 'stupid' Knight.

"Wow, you're...you're hammered," he scanned my face in amusement. I giggled. He was so stupid. Like the Godfather of the first stupid human on Earth. Makes sense, right?

"I'm not Bob the builder, Luke," my giggling escalated. "You are a stupid, stupid boy."

"Thea, you are really—"

"Drunk." Stupid Nathaniel standing behind me finished the sentence for him. I forgot that he was still here. Ugh.

"Luke, ask your little buoy to stop following me around," I ordered. Lucas looked at me for an unsure second, before he was compelled to bite his lip and do as I had asked. My puppy dog eyes worked wonders, I tell you.

But, but, but…

It was too late!

My favourite idea had already struck me.

"Luke, do you want to dance on the bar?" I clapped my hands in excitement. Luke looked at me again, this time with a funny expression and unconcealed amusement, like I had suddenly grown another pair of eyes. Trust me, that would explain it. I was seeing two of everything anyway!

"Luke, let's dan—"

I caught hold of his wrist.

Of course I didn't get to finish that sentence though.

Last thing I remembered of that place was that I was being carried out of there on a jacket-clad shoulder. Stupid, stupid Nathaniel always coming to grave the day. Oops. I meant 'save' the day.