CHAPTER EIGHT | IT'S HARD TO DRAW THE LINE

"...and not to mention, you've got a C in English! What is wrong with you, Bristol Martyn?" My mother's voice echoed harshly through my phone. I winced and gritted my teeth, standing outside the dorm as to let the brick walls muffle my screaming match.

"Nothing," I hissed, trying to stay quiet. Aiden and Evan were arguing quietly in the den, and, although I hadn't yet developed a liking to Evan, Aiden was very polite and I wanted to extend the same courtesy. My cheeks swept with a blush as I thought of the fact that a boy, an actual boy, was interested in me. 

 I shook my head, "Nothing," I repeated, feeling like a broken record. I chewed down on my lip, leaving an indented mark. "Mum. I'm fine, I swear."

"I don't even know why I allowed you to go to England!" Okay, this was getting a tad bit - just a tad fucking bit - ridiculous.

"You forced me to!" I tugged at the ends of my hair, still damp from the hot shower I'd taken. "I don't want to be here, away from-" I was about to utter the taboo word Adrian, but then I reminded myself that was no longer true. "Home," I supplied, my voice cracking and shifting.

I could hear her frustrated, tired sigh. I gnawed on my lip again. "Bristol, you had no friends here ... isn't it better there, at least?" I nearly laughed at the question.

"No," my voice betrayed me again, indenting itself. "No, mum, it isn't. I've barely any friends, I stay at home nearly all the time and my grades are dropping-" I was about to make a drop it low joke but I passed on it. "And ... yeah."

Dammit, that crack on dropping it low would've been gold in the form of words.

I could hear shuffling on the other end. "You know what ... I've more important things to do. Good night, Bristol."

The line went dead and I gasped in sheer annoyance at my mother. How could she? My own flesh and blood, leave me like this.

All right, now you're being dramatic.

I slid my phone into my flannel pants' pocket and stared hard at my long, skinny toes. The lavender polish was beginning to wear and was cracking off at parts. I tugged at the end of my grey v neck and moved to open the door. It opened instead, leaving me facing Aiden, who had an impassively sympathetic look on his face.

"Oh, hey, Aiden," I said casually, my voice an octave higher than normal. "What're you doing?"

"Checking on you," he admitted, blushing as he shoved his hands into his khaki pocket uniform. I tried not to pay attention to how his navy sweater stretched across his shoulders, or how the white polo collar just barely peeked over the neck of his sweater. "The walls are paper thin, you know."

I nodded nervously. "I'm fine." My voice strained and he arched a brow.

"Sure you are. Anyways," he hesitated. "I was wondering if you'd -"

The door burst open suddenly, and a head of black hair poked out. "Aid, did'ya ask?"

I glared as hard as I could at the side of Evan's head, but he only paid open attention to Aiden's cross expression.

"I was getting to it, you arse."

Evan snorted, "Yeah, you wuss. Listen, Twinkle Toes," he phrased just to annoy me. It worked, my nostrils flared and he grinned. "Aiden here is head over tit for you -"

"I am not!"

"And his eighteenth birthday party is coming up, so he wanted to invite you." Evan's smile grew as Aiden groaned. "Maybe you could swipe the v-card from his wallet -"

"You absolute dick, I am not. A. Virgin!"

"Yeah yeah, call me from the satanic ritual sacrifice." Evan smirked. "You know, virgin's blood and all."

"Would you shut up!"

"I'll go," I broke in. Aiden gave me a surprised look, while Evan's cocked brow insinuated a, please fucking don't. "I mean, it is your eighteenth. You can buy liquor," I fake-cheered, making Evan roll his eyes and Aiden to break into a smile.

"Great," Aiden said. "Great," he repeated. "Um, I - uh, Evan can take you to my dormitory. Expect something a bit like Project X," he grinned teasingly. I laughed.

"Definitely."

Evan muttered, "Bitches," but we both ignored him.

"So I'll see you there? It's this Friday," he added. I nodded, a smile still on my face. I calculated in my head, it was Tuesday. I had exactly three days.

"Of course."

Evan rolled his eyes. "You have literally no idea what you're in for."

And truth be told, I didn't.

***

 Dress rehearsals sucked ass.

"Ow!" I squeaked as I nearly poked my eye out with a pencil tube of eye liner. The thing was so sharp I'd have been blinded if it weren't for...

Okay, I've got no comparison to that.

I was currently blasting some Artist Vs. Poet as I made a futile attempt at makeup. We had to get used to performing and skating whilst all dressed in our skating outfits and makeup.

Even the guys were contouring their faces.

I sang my heart out. I knew Evan wasn't home and, frankly, if he was, I wouldn't give a flying fuck. I mean, I knew I was rude but he was ruder. Way, way ruder.

I adjusted my skating dress. The black lace fit me snugly, and the solid blue fabric covered up any parts I would've freaked out if anyone saw them.

Brushing a stray hair from my face, I tucked the ends up into a hairpin and tightened my pony tail. I took a deep breath and slid my feet into a pair of Vans slip-ons, picking up my duffle bag with my extra clothes and music.

I still wasn't sure what song to skate to, after all of this time. This is our only dress rehearsal, the judging being next week. I did a quick stretch and made sure my dress wouldn't ride up.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and moved to open the door. Once I looked out, though, I was more than surprised to see Evan there with his fist raised, as if he was getting ready to knock.

"Hi," I frowned.

"Aiden just wanted me to tell you," Evan muttered. "Party's at nine."

I nodded once. "Yeah. Got it."

I moved away from him, and he caught my arm before i could pass him. I gasped at the sudden contact, and winced. Force of habit. I could feel the choking feeling crawling up my throat, and locked up.

If Evan had noticed, he didn't make a comment.

"Where're you going?" He asked quietly. Okay, maybe he did notice and thought I was royally fucked up. Which was true. Sort of.

"I've got dress rehearsal," he freed my arm and I tugged on my dress. "I mean, it's really stupid and I've chosen a last minute song and I'm really nervous because there are so many people out there who are better and-"

"What time do you need to be there?"

I braced my teeth nervously, and checked my watch. "In ten minutes or so."

"How exactly are you getting there?"

"I was planning on walking." I said lamely.

Evan glanced at me in disbelief, the softness that had previously flooded his eyes was gone, all that was left was tilted eyebrows and an arrogant face. "Really, it's going to take forever. Let me take you." He already had his keys swinging from his index finger.

"No th-" I really was going to be late. "Thank you. That's kind of you."

He smirked, "Anything for a best mate's girl."

***

The car was silent for a moment, save for the humming voice of Muse's lead singer buzzing about the car. I hadn't even told him directions and he was making the right turns to everything. I looked at him quizzically.

"How do you know where we're going?" I asked. He shrugged nonchalantly, his darkened eyes cold and staring outside the window at nothing but coats of mist and other drivers.

"My ex was an ice skater," he said softly. I didn't press him further and he said no more. The vulnerability in his eyes once the word 'ex' left his lips was impossible to not see. He looked so sad, even bordering on depressed. 

I was desperate for him to be back to his teasing self. "I'm skating to a Lady Gaga song," I blurted out.

Nice.

Evan looked at me, confused, before laughing softly. His chuckle slowly formed into a snicker, until he was laughing so hard his shoulders shook and he was snorting most unnatractively. I scowled at him, though I was secretly relieved that he wasn't so sad looking anymore.

"Go ahead, laugh at me," I scoffed, and watched the street signs as we grew nearer to the skating centre. I was slightly disappointed knowing that this was the first time he ever attempted to be friends with me, much less a good friend too. 

Evan ceased the hard laughing and wiped at his eyes. "Which song?" He rang out joyfully, making a turn as he pulled up into the parking lot, his eyes going to mine. I felt my knees grow weak at the happiness and laughter playing in his face, and the fact that he was laughing with me, not at me.

"I'm stuck between Bad Romance and Poker Face," I admitted. He chuckled again, and I shrugged shamelessly. "I really like the French in Bad Romance, but I like the beat of Poker Face more."

Evan shrugged, "This is your stop. I'm leaning to Poker Face."

I smiled. "I'll take that into consideration."

"Party tonight, remember."

"I shall."

And as I got out of the car, waved slightly, before turning around and sprinting up the steps and yanking open the door, feeling the cold air wash over me, I only thought one thing.

Poker Face it is.

 ***

I felt as though the ice was air as I lifted my leg above my head, my back arching gracefully. I spun around so much I would've gotten dizzy, but, somehow, I didn't. My chest felt warm and fuzzy and my stomach felt airy instead of nauseous

Poker Face played loudly in my ears, and I closed my eyes as I jumped into the air, my legs stretching out as if I was doing a split. I fell down to my feet just as the last chord played. A smile toyed at the edges of my mouth before curving my lips upwards.

"Nice," Fritz's voice seemed to smile as happily as I felt. I smiled at him bashfully as I pulled out one earbud.

"Thanks," I said, skating with him to the edge of the rink so I could pick up my water bottle. He observed me as I drained the cool water, my face flushed from over exerting myself to skate so hard. "I think I've been improving..."

"Think?" He scoffed. "That was pretty brilliant, babe."

"Thanks," I repeated, an uncontrollable smile picking up my face again. "I-"

"Whore alert," Fritz mumbled, and my head whipped backwards to see none other than Hillary Finnegan watching me with spiteful eyes. "Someone's a jealous bitch."

I coughed to mask my laughter. "Yeah, of fucking course," I snickered despite my efforts. I heard the brief scratching of ice behind me, and a shoulder slammed into mine. I tripped forward, Fritz reaching out to steady me before I impaled myself on my flailed out skates.

"Fuck!" I gasped, and Fritz splayed his hand over my stomach and I tried to steady myself. My muscles were pulled taut, and I leaned against the smooth glass around the rink. 

"Bitch," Finnegan muttered, and flicked her blond hair from her face as she skated away. She mumbled something to the two girls that flanked with her, and they all giggled. I rolled my eyes as I relaxed.

"God, what a ho," Fritz muttered. "Did'ya know she's been trying to get it in with Fraver for like, three years?"

I turned to him quizzically. "How the fuck do you know that?" Also, Evan? What? My chest felt tightened for whatever reason.

I just don't see Evan going out with that type of girl...

"Um, duh!" He scoffed, as James made a beeline toward us, looking like a model with his fiery locks sticking to the sides of his pale face and decked out in a suit-like outfit. "Two words. Hillary Thompson."

"O-kay," I shrugged.

James grinned and swiped Frtitz's bottle from his hands. "Thanks bestie," he said, before downing 3/4 of it.

"Asswipe," Fritz muttered.

"All right skaters!" Lucy called us to attention. My eyes immediately flashed up to her. "You are all free until our judging competition. I would advise some of you practise though," her eyes shifted towards Fritz, James, and I, "rather than dilly-dallying."

I heard James snort, and covered it with an obnoxiously fake sneeze.

"Who even uses that word," he muttered as Lucy went on with her small speech in the centre of the ice.

"Anyway, get dressed, and practise for elimination. There are two of each of you here," her eyes scanned the room. "I expect something spectacular."

I swallowed back my fear and hurried to the lockers. Pulling out my sweater and jeans, I shifted out of my dress and tried not to make any awkward eye contact with the nearly-naked males and females. I stuffed my skates into my locker and turned.

"Shit!" I gasped, jerking backwards and painfully hitting my head against the metal of the lockers. "Ooh, ow, fuck, fuck, fuck," I groaned.

Finnegan grinned at me, with her lipsticked mouth and an evil twinkle in her eyes. "Hey, looks like it's the second thing that's banged you today."

I frowned. "What?" 

"Did you get tired of the threesome with the two queers over there?" She scoffed, jerking her head in the direction where Fritz and James were getting dressed.

Fury spiked up in me. Oh, hell no. "Shut your damn mouth, Finnegan."

"Oh, I'm so scared."

I shoved my shaking hands into my pockets. "You should be. I'm not banging anything that breathes, unlike you." Her mouth dropped.

"You - You-!"

"And I didn't lose my virginity at twelve."

"How did you-,"

"I didn't," I smiled. "But I do now."

She hissed, "You're going to get it Martyn, I will destroy you!" Her words were slightly slurred from my verbal attack, her face reddened and her eyes wild with anger. "Also, Evan Fraver is mine." 

"Why did you feel the need to tell me that?"

Finnegan calmed some, and smiled triumphantly. "Because he'd actually touch me, just like he did last weekend."

I narrowed my eyes. "Not even if he was tripping on acid and downed seven cherry vodka shots," I muttered menacingly, only wanting to offend her for calling me out, threatening me, and talking like James and Fritz's bisexuality was a bad thing.

"Oh trust me, bitch, all it took was a kiss."

***

I walked into my dorm room with steam practically pouring out of my ears. Hillary Finnegan was nothing but a stupid, prideful whore! Absolutely nothing but that. 

Evan wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot-pole.

Evan is a misophobe.

Evan wouldn't want to get an STD from her.

Who was I kidding? He was a teenage boy, he must of had some sort of reaction to Hillary's long blonde strands and her skinny waist and - ugh!

Kissing in Cars was playing in my ears as I slammed the door shut, jostling the frame and an angry expression on my face.

Evan was lounging on the couch, texting, and looked up as I stalked past him.

"Slow down, Speed Racer," he teased. I ripped out my earbuds and threw my duffle down, before chucking my iPod down onto it. I turned to him with my fists clenched; I needed to know the truth. "What is-"

"Did you shag Hillary Finnegan?" I demanded.

His eyes went wide as his jaw dropped.

"Huh?" He gasped.

"Evan freaking Fraver, did you shag Hillary Finnegan!" God, I was going to go deaf one day. I could hear Vic's voice singing second chances won't leave you alone...

Pay attention!

Evan clenched his teeth. "What gave you that stupid idea?"

"I-I," I stuttered. He stood to his full height, towering over me with an incredulous expression etched into his features. His jaw twitched.

"No, Bristol Martyn. I did not even touch that walking STD."

I gulped down as both fear and relief washed through me. My eyes darted anywhere but his own dark irises. He was clearly getting ready for the party - decked out in black jeans, a white band tee shirt, and a black blazer on top of that. His black sneakers brought the entire thing together.

"I'm - I'm sorry?" I squeaked, and I realised I was against the wall. His chest was close to mine, his face intimidatingly close to my own. Our noses brushed.

Kiss me.

I gasped at the thought. Why? Why? Why, why, why?

I'm such a fucking dumb ass.

Evan closed his eyes and sighed angrily through his nose. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Get dressed. I need to be there by eight to help him set up..."

"I was planning on going in this," I admitted. His eyes flashed down to my body as he took a step back. I was nothing to compare to his sharp dressing, only in a loose sweatshirt and skinny jeans. My sneakers were beat up and ratty.

"Well, um," he stated.

"Got it," I said flatly. "I'll change."

A/N:

Ohmyshit.

I am so fucking sorry! This damn thing took like, forever to write! I've got no fucking excuses for this! ASDFGHJKL;'

NOOOOOO

I'M SOOOO SORRY

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKSHIT

Life update: my best friend just moved away, and, sometimes, when someone says her name, I start crying. Woo-freaking-doo.

So um yeah

Also! I want you to vote which Lady Gaga song Bristol should skate to! 

Poker Face

Bad Romance

Monster

have fun lovelies <3

Also, I know I'm in no position to say this, but if anyone wants to creat a cover/banner for any of my current stories (Figure Eight, The Good Girl's Property) just message me and I'll give you my Wattpad Instagram or my Wattpad e-mail.

If anyone has any puzzlements about the story so far, message me. I'll clear it up.

If anyone needs someone to talk to, message me.

I'll be a friend.

Also-

300 FANS????????????? THAT IS SO INSANE!!!!!!!!!!!

IFLY (i fucking love you)

Until next time,

~Jayy <3

P.S. Just an ATL song, because I love them. I haven't been listening to them much, so yeah. Wendy, get your shit together and fly away with Peter. Or nahhh??????????????????

STAHP IT JAYY!!!!!!!!!

P.P.S. As you can tell, Evan is more of an alternative rocker. He's totally head over heels for shit like Muse, Nine Inch Nails, and even a few Bastille songs get him in the music mood.

Next chapter teaser: PARRRRR-TAYYYYY

Also, what do you think of the Evan+Bristol chemistry? The Bristol and Hillary drama? Why is Evan so pissed at Bristol for even mentioning the blonde devil? Hmmmmmmm?

Again

i fucking love all of you

<3