Eve

"Stay, just a little longer!"

Over the blaring base of the Backstreet Boys, the words are close to non-existent. If it hadn't been for the repetition or the grip circling my wrist, I would've carried on down the rout to the exit. Thirty minutes of mingling and bumping into sweaty bodies I can handle, but two hours is taking the cake.

Swivelling on the balls of my feet, I'm graced with a lop-sided pout that almost makes me change my mind. Almost.

Kai's been drunk three times out of the twelve years I've known him, thanks to the late-night drunken calls for pep talks and spontaneous messages, and he's on his way to number four. His bird's nest of hair, flushed eyes, and tipsy grin is a new side of his I've never seen before, and as bad of me it is to admit, his whole new level of antics are what's keeping me here.

"Pleash, ten more minutsh—by the way, have you tried the shnacks?" he slurs, rocking on his heels.

Gripping his forearms, he teeters in his attempt to throw a look over his shoulder at the snacks in question, chuckling to himself when he widens his stance. It's hard to tell if he's being genuine or stalling for time to make me stay, but I'm thankful he hasn't tried to walk over instead.

Grounding myself with the help of the soft hazel hue of Kai's irises, I offer him one of my gentle smiles. Judging by the calm in his gaze, I pulled it off better than I thought with my own fatigue kicking in and people knocking into my shoulders. Between horny men rubbing against me, the side-eye from the female population because of the company I hold, and drinks being pushed in my face is starting to mow me down.

"I think it's time for me to make a move," I call between the song's conclusion and the intro of the next, eyeing the sound system.

I slap my hand over my mouth to hold in the laughter threatening to spill out. The once normal technique he loves to use against me isn't working in his favour; his poor eyes are strained to the extent where they bug out, and his lips bow into the shape of a beak. When I think it's over, he takes a swig of his beer, hiccupping deep inside the neck of the bottle. We burst out into a fit of laughter, finding it hard to control ourselves as the crowd surrounding us snicker or turn to judge.

Being zapped with a laser beam, I rub my vision back into focus while our cackles subside. The base of the music vibrates through the floor, into my feet, then travels through my body until my head feels as if it has a speaker of its own.

I wish I was at home right now, curled up in bed with a movie, and a cup of hot chocolate. Although. . .

Staring up at Kai, he's sporting a joyous smile while fist bumping passing members of his team who stagger away from the chugging system in the direction of the cheerleaders, who are swaying their hips without a care in the world. I'm sure he would've stayed at home with me to watch an episode of our latest binge before heading out. However, knowing Kai, he would be glued, and by the time I realise what he'd done, it would be too late. It's only fair for me to step out of my comfort zone.

Kai nods at one of the basketball team's supporting fans from the centre of Grayson O'Donald's house, laughing as he pulls a sour face after throwing his glass full of tanned liquid back to impress his companion. Everyone's celebrating the last day of the holidays before college starts, and Kai's worked hard, deserving every last minute of this.

Sensing the worry radiating behind the buzz in his eyes the second they land on me, I sport a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about me, I had fun." I force my lips to stretch. "Tomorrow is the first day back, and I want to face it with a clear head, that's all."

Sidestepping an eager couple who disappear through the door at the back of the room, I turn back to Kai. He rakes his fingers through the shorter, chocolate locks of hair covering his forehead, they ping out of place, and his eyes brighten under the flash of the lasers. "Can I walk you home?" He shakes his head. "Actually, before we leave, can I interest you in a sholo of Pepshi?"

I can't help but crack a smile. "Honestly, I'll be fine—"

"I'll come with you"—a Cheshire cat grin spreads across his flushed cheeks— "don't worry, I know the way," he snickers.

Knowing the way isn't the issue. Keeping him on his feet will be. He can't stand straight, let alone walk down the street. If he's here, I know he will crash safely on the sofa or in one of the guest rooms, and he will be taken care of by Grayson in the morning.

Kai pouts. "Pleash?"

Grinning, I raise two fingers. "How many am I holding up?"

"That's eashy," he chuckles. "It's four."

"You need coffee," I reply in a sing-song voice.

"Only if you shtay for five more minutsh," he fires back.

I shake my head with another laugh. "No."

"Two?"

"Kai," I deadpan, folding my arms.

He slowly nods. "OK, OK. . . how about five?"

"You already said that." I pat his arm. "If it will put your mind at ease, I promise to call a taxi as soon as I'm outside."

Kai hitches a brow, then squints his eyes. "And when you're home?"

"And message you when I'm home. Deal."

"Deal." The cogs in his head are visible as he zones out, and when he returns, there's a small exhale. "Are you shertain?"

Sticking my hand out, I poke my pinkie toward him. "Positive."

With the wrong hand, he hooks his pinking with my index finger and shakes on it. "Alright shorty, I'll shee you tomorrow."

After an unstable embrace, informing him to let his hair down and have some fun, I make tracks for the exit. When I reach the door leading out of the sitting room, Kai's stumbling in another direction before toppling through the doorway at the back. Chuckling to myself, I continue shuffling amongst the mass of gyrating bodies and the line for the chugging game. The stench of alcohol, vapour, and perspiration cling to my nose, and the sensation of clammy skin brushing my arms have me jumping to the side, making sure they're crossed for the remainder of the journey.

Tripping outside of the party's clutches, I suck in a lungful of fresh air. I'm glad there's no more heat sticking to me, or slick bodies pressing and bumping against mine, and the dampen on the raging music soothes the pulsing in my head. However, the one element that remains persistent are the laser beams spiking through the windows.

Well, Kai's intoxicated voice and squeaky hiccups were a blast, so the night wasn't terrible.

"Leaving already?"

Startled, I pivot on the balls of my feet to find Grayson O'Donald. "Oh, yeah, I guess?"

He chuckles, swiping a hand through his short blonde curls. "You don't like parties much, do you?"

Heat travels up my neck into my cheeks. "Is it that obvious?" I mumble, fidgeting.

Taking a small swig of his beer, his blue eyes light up with newfound curiosity. "You usually don't come to any," he notes, and I feel a neon sign on my back screaming 'allergic to parties'. "Not that it's a bad thing, but you don't mingle, and I haven't seen you dance with any of the lads other than Kai. . . is there something going—"

"Oh, no, nothing like that!" I laugh, frantically waving my hands. "We're just close friends."

The corner of his lip curves up, and his eyes are giving me the I know something you don't vibe, and it's bugging me. I'm not surprised by the amount of things he does know with his reputation at college, plus the gossip his team receive from the cheerleaders.

Giving in, I huff, "What is it?"

Taking another sip from his beverage, he shrugs his wide shoulders. "Well, I wouldn't be so sure of yourself—" He holds his hands up with a nervous laugh. "I mean, I don't see him putting himself out there as available, and the only woman I see him with. . . "

Piecing it together, I shake my head. "I think you're as drunk as Kai is."

Grayson grins. "Alright but think about it. Have a good night, Eve."

With that, he waltzes up to his front door without a care in the world, and I can imagine the smug smile he sports around campus on his face as the door shuts behind him.

Digging into my back pocket for my phone with a roll of my eyes, I dial the taxi firm like I promised. On the third ring, they answer.

"Hello, I would like to book a taxi, please."

Pacing back and forth, there's a rustle down the line. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," a hearty voice answers, "two of our drivers called in sick this morning, and the few we have are out on runs as we speak. Give them another ten minutes and try calling us back, OK?"

I could be home in the time it will take for them to return to base and reach me.

"Thank you, that will be fine." Hanging up with a long exhale, I face the shadow-filled path with nothing but an ominous streetlamp at the end.

Eyeing the party, the thought of repeating the word 'no' to the horny, drunken male population drains me, and if I fill up on Pepsi, I'll be desperate for the bathroom. Considering the condition of the toilets at most of these parties, I'd be holding it.

A walk could do me some good. . .