The Party

They meet wonderfully.

Prudence

 

I remember the atmosphere being cloudy. Not in the sense that I was stoned, but my eyes were glassed over. Usually after I casually smoked, I had a stable security on my situations. I knew where I was; what was going on, and what I had just did. Different from many others when they were high, I knew how to handle myself.

Just the air in general was cloudy. With the smoke of lit cigarettes and smell of pot shadowing over me, lingering on my clothes, as I sat on the old sofa in the corner of Linda's basement. I felt regret coming over me for even showing up to this ridiculous party. Why would someone as heartbroken and screwed up as me come to a party six days after she was dumped?

Plus, I hated Linda.
     Unless I was completely drunk out of my mind, I'd have to watch everyone stumble around. It wasn't very much fun in my case, in general anyway. I never liked the feeling of being drunk �" it felt like everything was in slow motion and I hated the feeling of just letting myself go.

I hadn't seen him yet. Usually he was always the last person through the door, but two hours of the party in full swing and he still wasn't here. This was his kind of party, too. Booze and pot everywhere with chicks that liked being sleazy. The ones with super low tops cut down to the very edge of their bust and tight shorts.

I had a simple plan. Ryan would show up and I'd catch him right at the door. He'd have that look in his eyes, the one from when we met because I was wearing a similar outfit he adored, and we'd go sit out on the porch swing in Linda's back yard. Ryan and I would talk and talk and laugh and he'd realize he still loved me and breaking up with me was a total mistake.

After all, it was. Ryan was my first serious boyfriend. He had asked me out on the porch swing at Kyle's house about five months ago. I had on this purple dress with ruffles at the top and flowers covering the material. One of the best deals I got at a resale shop in my entire life. My hair was teased, which he described different. A hair style not many people could pull off, he said.

I look back at what I wore and how I did my hair, so different than now, and I think that's the reason Ryan wanted an end to our relationship so quickly that night only six days ago. I mean, my bangs have grown out and were down to my chin now, and I've kept my hair pin straight. To him, I was just another prissy cheerleader with straight hair and tight clothes.

Except tonight. Tonight was the night I'd take a blast into the past and dress the way Ryan saw me the night we fell in love. My hair somewhat teased and my bangs cut and curled, a pink dress on instead of the purple, but in all sense it was the same.

I see Chris pass me by. Her long blonde hair bobbing as she walks. I grab her hand and pull her to me. She bends down to hear what I have to say as I ask her, "Have you seen Ryan?"

"Ryan? Your ex?" she asks and I nod. She was on the cheer team with me. She knew everyone’s business. "I think he's hooking up with Linda in the bedroom upstairs."

I really hate Linda, I thought.

My face was filled with a mixture of shock and hurt. And the feeling of just wanting to disappear. She could tell, too. It was written all over her face. Poor Prudence, she probably thought, screwed over again.

I nod, "Okay, never mind. Thanks." And maybe I didn’t mean the words I said, but I wanted to. I repeated them over and over again just to make it seem real. To see as if that’s how I really felt.

I stand up, now. Chris stares at me with a sort of pity smile. Her hand finds my shoulder and she sympathetically says, "I'm sorry, Prudence. You'll find someone else."

I smiled and walked away. Trying as I went along, I held my head high and tried my hardest not to cry. The tears were pushing to come, but I ignored them. I found a wooden door at the end of the hallway. Putting my ear to the wooden frame, I knocked. With no response from anyone, I slipped through the crack and closed the door behind me.

I should just leave.

Why am I not leaving?

I stood with my back pressed against the wall in the very dark room. The silence was unbearable but I couldn't stand to go out there again. The embarrassment was the worst thing. I took in a deep breath as I stared out the window, watching the moon rise higher and higher. I let the vibrations of the music from throughout the house warm me.

"Just want to be alone?" someone's voice shot through the empty room. I screamed, my heart racing as I jumped. My drink spilling all over the floor and onto my toes.

The boy laughed at my spasm as he came into focus. His smile bigger than the Cheshire cat’s. I couldn't help but grin back, only to get hit with reality. Why was he in here?

"You scared the s**t out of me." I say.

He chuckled. That laugh was enough to send me over board. He wasn't just cute, he was sexy. Instantly, my cheeks warmed. My heart beating loudly in my ears.

"I know." he states. "What are you doing in here?"

"I hate parties."

"Then leave."

I sigh, "It's not that easy, man. I promised my friend I'd drive her home considering she's trashed and she refuses to leave until this guy she's basically stalking leaves so we can follow him."

"I see." I hear him take a sip of his drink before he hands it over to me. “That’s pretty fucked up, huh? You’re here, miserable, and your friend is having a blast. You should just leave.”

I shake it away without even really thinking about it. I said, “I’m good. I don’t drink much.”

"Liar! I saw you with a beer a few hours ago. Plus, it's just coke."

“Well, it’s simply just for looks that I sip one.” I giggle and take the cup from him. Trying to steady my shaking hand. He nods through the dark and I'm praying he didn't lace this with some kind of drug that gives you crazy trips. Like LSD or acid. Hesitantly I take a sip and realize is really is just coke.

I nod back at him, "Nice."

I want him to come closer. For some reason I feel like we could actually have a lot in common. I want to feel his warmth next to me as we speak instead of this distance. Although we're strangers, I wanted to share this cup of coke with him and talk for hours.

"Why don't you come closer?" I whisper.

I hear him shuffle. His feet drag across the carpeted floor loudly. I wanted to laugh, instead I remained silent. Soon the quietness ended in a loud bang and the mystery guy cussing up a storm.

"I hit my knee on that f*****g table!" he yelled, hitting the damn thing. "S**t!"

I started to laugh. The first real laugh I had in six days. For some reason I thought I'd never laugh again because of Ryan, now I just couldn't stop.

I hear him start to chuckle, too, "You think that's funny?"

"Mm."

The lights flicker on and I see him across the room before his eyes catch me. Black hair and blue eyes caught my attention first and my breathing seemed to stop instantly. First word to pop into my mind was handsome. This beautiful specimen that stood far away, but I could smell his musty cologne smell from where I was. Cologne mixed with cigarette smoke.

Finally he inched his way towards me. We stood like a bunch of squares. Silently, almost uncomfortably. How was it so possible to stand next to someone I never even met, never even spoken to before, and feel so comfortable?

"I'm Oliver." he reaches out his hand for mine and I take it.

"Prudence." I reply.

Oliver smiles a cheeky grin and shakes my hand. His palm warm and sweaty in a good way. My heart seemed to race and beat harder and harder in my chest and through my shirt. Is it possible to fall in love so quickly with someone you've just met?

"Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?" he quietly sang to me, his voice lovely.

I've had this song sang to me over a million times in the sixteen years I've inhabited the earth. My mother mostly sang it to me as we drove to the grocery store or before I've went to bed. She doesn't anymore, she hasn't since I've turned twelve to be honest. I still long for the nights where she'd utter those words and I'd close my eyes and let it sink in. So, that's what I do here. I close my eyes and let the lyrics from Oliver sink into my ears beautifully.

"Did your mother name you that because of the Beatles?" Oliver whispers the question and I nod, opening my eyes into his.

"I was born with that song as my favorite, basically." I answer.

We stand there and listen to the music play from right outside the wooden door we stand behind. It shakes the house, but the feeling was incredible. My eyes leaked into his and I couldn't help but stare at the magical blue, deep as the sea. His black hair seemed magnetic to my hand. I just had to touch it.

I stupidly mutter "Your hair is so long.”

"What's with your hair?" he asks, ignoring my idiotic statement.  

"Huh?" I ask, giving a small laugh.

His fingertips found a curly strand of my hair as he curled it around his index finger. I blink, unable to put together words. Now what I did for Ryan, the whole hair thing, seemed childish. This wasn't me. I preferred something completely different.

"Why did you hair spray the s**t out of it?"

"I always do this." I lied.

He rolled his eyes, "I've seen you at parties before. You always have it different. I like it better the other way."

"You're honest." I scoff. "I like it better this way."

"Honest?" he was testing me. I could tell by the tone is in his voice. It was subtle, but had some type of intensity to it that it made my legs melt.

I nodded, reminding myself that I was never this way. I wasn't soft. I was raised to be sturdy and self-sufficient. Don't let a guy feel superior of you. That's when the downfall appears, when the guy feels like he has the upper hand.

"Well, let me be honest about another thing Prudence,"

"Go on." I pushed him further.

"I like you."

"You don't even know me." my eyes were set jarring into his. The synchronization between the two of us was becoming too much for me to handle. Yet, I couldn't push myself to look away. I liked the odd feeling that was stirring within me.

He seemed sure of himself, then. Oliver propped himself against the wall with his elbow and stared at me. The smile he wore was deadly, but contagious and soon my own lips were turning up.

Oliver sighed and looked quickly away. His eyes darting to the door for only a second before them slowly found their way back to me. He said, "I know you enough to see that this hair and clothes that you're trying don't suite you enough to be worn and you obviously hate it."

"No I don't." I try. He was manipulative.

He shakes his head, "Don't lie. What you said before was correct, we don't know each other. That should make it easy to tell the truth. Be honest."

"It should also make it easy to lie."

"Touché."

I'm getting antsier, standing here with him. He was right. Everything from the beginning to the end of what he said was true. Exactly how I felt from the inside, out.

In seconds I'm sighing and he knows that he's won whatever it was we were playing. I roll my eyes at him, trying not to get angry at him for figuring me out. Heck, he's the first person to even suspect that I completely hated my outfit, that it wasn't me.

"You're right," I say, gesturing to my clothes, then fidgeting with my hair. "You’re completely right. This isn't me."

"Ha! I knew it."

Suddenly it seemed like every sense of security I had earlier vanished and replaced with worry. He seemed to be smug in a goofy way. It made me feel like this had happened with him before. He found some lonely girl at a party, concluded that she hated herself. He talked with her, charmed her, then boom! He lures another innocent girl to hook up with him.

I'm not going to be his lucky prize or some girl to win a bet with his friends. I've seen it happened to my friend before, Crystal.

Moments later, I'm flipping out. Waling my hands all over and slapping him on his muscle-filled forearm. His face was a mixture of confusion and worry, something very priceless and if I wasn't overly mad I'd have laughed.

"Oh no you don't!" I yell, pointing my finger at him and backing away. "I'm not falling for your good guy act!"

"What good guy act?" he almost yelled back at me, but he quickly refrained himself.

"You're not going to sweet talk me so I'll fall for your crap and you'll screw me over. No!”

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I'm not like that," he states, pointing his finger back at me. "I came in here to get some peace and you so happened to be in here! It's not some game! I'm not that sick."

"It's like you planned this or something!" I said, still rambling on and on like an idiot.

"How? Because I notice a girl I like hurting and I wanted to go see if she was okay?!"

I almost laughed, almost, "That is such a lie. You don’t like me. You’re a punk who dresses like he’s from the nineties and I’m a cheerleader that has no personality!"

“No personality? So you’re admitting cheerleaders suck when it comes to being cool?”

“Shut up.”

Oliver gently pushed me up against the wall. One palm of mine on his chest, the other on the cold surface behind me.

Our mouths so close that I could feel his hot, minty breathe on my lips. This was a feeling I never felt, weirdly. I breakaway quickly, shoving him away and almost screaming obscenities at him.

My head was filled with nonsense. Did I like him? That can't be. I only just met him. I can't. I can't. Can I?

The next thing to come to mind is Ryan. The reason I actually came to this s**t party.

Was it fate that we both so happened to be here?

"I have to go."

"Wait," he stops me.

"I have to go find Ryan..."

He grabs my hand and pulls me back just for a moment. And with seconds I've completely forgotten why I was going to leave. Looking into his eyes was enough to make me stop. And when he recited a poem, a poem that's been stuck in my mind for some time, I knew I couldn't just leave.
     I was speechless. Every inch of me was screaming to just kiss him even though I had no clue who this man was.

I couldn't form any other words. I was stunned and my heart was ready to explode. Was it possible to fall in love so quickly or was it just my naive self-fooling me? Making me believe that this was love.

I giggled aloud, like a little girl, snorting included as I said, "I can't believe you."

"What?" he said as he started to laugh, too.

"You!" I shook my head at him. "You have the power to make everyone fall in love with you.”

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Do you like me?"

I laughed again, ignoring Oliver's question. I did. I really did. Frankly, I didn't know how, but I did. I'm not telling him, though. I'm not giving him that satisfaction.

I hummed little notes to myself, grinning at him. He smiled as quickly as I did. I tried to hide my feelings, but I couldn't. I say in a sing-song voice, "I've had If I Fell by The Beatles stuck in my head!"

"Why?"

"It's all my feelings bottled up in one song."

Oliver closed his eyes for a second, like he was contemplating something dramatic. I waited impatiently for him to look back at me. Suddenly, I was yearning for his eyes to reopen so I could see the magical blue that filled them.

I was buzzing already. The drink I downed earlier, before sliding into the room, was finally hitting me. Maybe it was the beer that made me feel this weird way for a complete stranger.

Quietly, he asked me, "Do you wanna' go back out there with me?"

Out there? The place I dreaded more than the world at this moment. The place filled up with people who enjoyed Ryan's company more than my own. The small little rooms where'd I feel suffocated. The moment where I'd walk smack-dab into Ryan and I would pour my heart out to him.

I'd rather stay in here any day. I enjoyed talking and someone actually paying attention to what I have to say. I liked the feeling of someone listening and loving the words I speak.

I answer quite slowly, "I can't go out there."

"Why?"

"They'll think we did something in here. They'd see and tell Ryan and he'd never love me again."

"So, let them think something happened. At least we'll know nothing did. We talked, that's it," he said. Oliver's eyes moved from the door, to me, to the door, to me, "And who cares about Ryan. He's an idiot for breaking up with you anyway. Are you going to let him ruin your life?"

"I guess not," I whined. "Why don't we just stand here and talk some more?"

"Standing here. We're doing nothing but aging." he quotes the Beatles once more and I realize that this was our friendship so far. Surrounded by the best band in history.

"But everyone will see, Oliver. They'll judge me."

Oliver rolls his eyes and walks to the door. For a second I thought he was just sick of me being a baby and was going to just walk out, leave me. He looked like the type. Bad boy, don't care, type.

"Hey! Everyone! Prudence and I were alone in that room together!" he screams from the doorway. Everybody glanced over at him and my cheeks heat up instantly. I couldn't help the smile on my lips. He asks me, "Does it look like anyone cares?"

I shook my head, "No."

"All right then. Come on." he held out his palm for me and I grabbed it, holding it tightly in mine. Never wanting to let go.

We walked through the crowd of smokers and druggies. Passing the party by while every kid at the high school I attended seemed to stare at us with deadly eyes. I smiled to myself, following Oliver closely. Still holding his hand.

He turned around and leaned in close, whispering into my ear, "Do you want to stay for a little bit or jet out?"

"I still have to give my friend a ride home!" I yelled over the music.

"Forget her! She's probably smashed anyway and crash here!" he said back, shaking his head.

 

"Let's leave." I suggest. I'd get my car tomorrow, or Oliver could follow me home. Okay, I didn't know what was going to happen and frankly, I didn't care. This was the best time to just let myself be free for once.

"That's cool, too." he says, smiling at me.

As we walk, I feel a tugging on my arm. I turn around slowly only to surprise myself by groaning.

"Lin- I mean Prudence, I'm glad you're here!" Ryan said, grabbing my arm and pulling me from Oliver's close grab. He was trashed and I knew he had to have drank more than usual. His eyes were red and watering and he was stumbling all over. "I wanted to talk to you."

I smiled politely, trying to look beneath his stuck up ways and find what I liked about him in the first place. He wasn't that cute. Frankly, he wasn't even the cutest guy in our school. Maybe it was just the first boy to ever show interest in me before. Someone sweet at first and sensitive and my first real boyfriend.

"Hi." I replied. "I can't talk right now."

"I'm so sorry, Pru. I shouldn't have ended it like I did."

"Oh, so you regret it?"

He nods, "I do, babe. I still like you a lot."

"Why's that?"

"First off: you look smoking tonight."

"Ryan," I say and he nods, eyes wide open as he smiles. The smirk that anyone would want to smack right off. "I'm going to leave now."

"Babe-" he grabs me again and pulls me back. I sigh and grab the cup some girl held in her hand and splashed it in his face quickly. His hands go to his face instantly as his cheeks heat up. "What was that for?!"

"That's for being a dick!" I scream, giving him the middle finger before walking away with Oliver cracking up. "Here that girls!? Ryan Edwin is an effing tool! He breaks your heart if you won't sleep with him and then hook up with s***s! Watch out, he's a womanizer! A real woman eater!"

 

Twenty minutes later, Oliver and I end up in his car parked at the park. It was already later than my curfew, but I tried to ignore the time. It's not like my step dad, Andrew, and his wife Laurie were staring at the clock either. They only set that time to seem like good parents.

"Do you want me to brush the crap out of your hair?" he asks and I laugh.

I play at my hair for a moment. It was hard and stuck to my head like it was a wig with glue. For some reason it didn't even seem like it belonged to me. I say, "Right. Like that's going to be possible."

"I have a brush up here somewhere. We could poor some water on it, to loosen it."

I started laughing very loudly, "You realize how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm serious. I'll brush it, don't worry."

So I agreed. I turned to face the window, my face away from his. Hearing him grab the brush and scoot towards me in the middle of his old truck, I wait for the pain. He takes his hand and run his fingertips through the mess I call hair, wetting it slightly with some water from the rain outside. Sticking his hand out the window to get it soaked.

My skull literally ached and I felt like I had some sort of concussion, even though it was impossible to get one from brushing someone's hair. He went back to his own seat as I looked in the rearview mirror. It was frizzy, frizzy, frizzy, but it was me.

"I like it better that way." he numbly said.

I giggled, "Yeah? All frizzy."

"Obviously the frizzier, the better."

I looked in the mirror once more. I looked like someone from a freak show. I sigh. Oliver moves into the middle again of the front seat. I turn my body towards him, too.

"It's been a great night."

"A strange one." I added.

"It was funny, I suppose." he says, leaning closer.

I don't stop him. It seems that I'm incapable of telling him not to. His feathery lips touch mine in a tiny peck of the lips and I feel like the s**t with Ryan is done.

Only hours ago, I was prepared to waltz into the party and get Ryan back. Make him fall in love with me again. Plans change, I guess. Because now; the only thing on my mind, is this stranger named Oliver kissing me.

 

He dropped me off a half hour later. We didn't kiss again. Oliver simply nodded a goodbye and I pushed the passenger door open with one arm and jumped out. My eyes locked on his until I finally turned and strolled up the long driveway of the dark house.

I passed through the front door later than allowed, not that anyone was up to notice. I danced up the stairs, into my room, and to my bed. Falling asleep in the clothes that still smelt like him.

 

 

Author's Note

Okay. I put her name at the top because that shows it's her point of view. I didn't know if you got that or if you thought it was just a weird thing. You probably knew that. Please excuse the grammar. :)