k a r r i s

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Friday nights were dedicated to sleepovers-- and I don't mean lame, typical slumber parties with cliche pillow fights, nail painting, and reading about the art of french kissing from the latest issues of Cosmo. That was so 2002. None of that ensued when my best friend Berkley Ramos came over to spend the night. Instead, we drowned ourselves in tubs of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, gorged on pizza with white sauce, watch horror flicks, and of course fangirl over our favorite bands while decked out in matching fleece onsies.

But as much as I wanted to pig out on peach cobbler flavored ice cream with Golden Oreos and scream my head off while watching the latest Paranormal Activity, my usual Friday night plans were thwarted.

"I'm sorry bestie! Rain check, I promise!" Berkley pleaded from the other end of the phone. I sighed, falling backwards onto my soft bed with a plop, staring at the spinning ceiling fan. "Please forgive me? I can't get out of this family party this time. You know my parents."

"No I understand," I told her honestly. She came from a very traditional and close-knit Hispanic family, similar to my Filipino roots and I knew first hand to the ideal of family coming first. "Do you think you could bring me back some extra tamales?"

"Seriously Karris? Tamales? Why did you have to ask for the most Mexican thing on the menu? Couldn't you ask me to bring food that doesn't correlate to my culture? Just because I'm going to a Mexican party doesn't mean it'll be a fucking fiesta! You're so prejudice," Berkley ranted, each word spewing out of her mouth faster and at a much higher pitch than the last.

I smirked, flipping over to my belly, "so is that a yes or a no?"

Berekly groaned loudly and I could already picture her brown eyes rolling around in her sockets, "yes Karris, I'll bring you back some tamales. But only if you come over tomorrow and bring me fried rice."

"And I'm prejudice?" I let out a chuckle, "I'm not even that kind of Asian. You're crazy BERSERK-ly!"

I heard my best friend laugh hysterically on the other end and I felt so blessed to have her by my side. With it being summer break, I was able to see her more often since we attended different schools in our coastal town of Arden Heights. While she went to Willowridge High, a public school a few minutes from where we lived, I graced the Brampcrest Academy hallways with my nerdy but proud presence. It was a private institute that mainly catered to those who excelled in the math and science department. Call me a typical Asian but numbers came easily to me and Brampcrest gave me the tools needed to become the next Steve Jobs or Bill Gates.

"What are you going to do without me?" she asked.

"Well I wanted to watch the new Paranormal--"

"Don't you dare watch it without me Karris Renee Villanueva!" Berkley hastily interrupted, a stern tone to her words.

"Chill out! I won't watch it without you Berkley Marie Amparo Diaz Ricardo Ramos," I stated, imitating the way her mom so often said her name.

Berkley laughed hysterically, "you're oddly good at imitating my mother."

"I've known you for the majority of my life. Your family as become mine. Your mom's accent was sure to rub off of me sooner or later," I explained with a smile.

"Hey I'm gonna have to jet. My mom's having some kind of fit," Berkley informed, and she was right. Through the speaker I could make out the muffled yells of Mama Ramos. She spoke at a hundred miles per hour-- a hundred-fifty if speaking in Spanish.

"Alrighy bestie for the restie. I'll see ya tomorrow around lunch time. I like my tamales warm," I hinted.

"And I like hot sauce with my chow mien," Berkley retorted with a giggle. "Bye Karris!"

"Bye Berkley!" I shouted before tapping the screen on my phone and hanging up.

I threw my phone off to the side, sitting up from my bed. I sat in silence, listening to the fan whipping air around my room, and the random clanks coming from the kitchen downstairs. My mom was working magic in the kitchen again. At this point I wasn't exactly sure what to do with my life. As pathetic as it sounded, I didn't have any other friends besides Berkley whom I could call up on a moment's notice to hang out.

I wasn't popular, nor was I at the bottom of the social chain. It never bothered me because I was at least respected at school. No one took the extra energy to bully me and when I had something to say, my peers often gave me the soapbox to step on and speak my mind.

Buzz. Buzz.

My twin brother however, was a different story. Gabe Villanueva had the world wrapped around his finger. He attended Willowridge High with Berkley and was captain of the Thunderbirds, the school's championship winning hockey team. Homecoming King, Mr. Popular, the kid everyone wished they were, Gabe and I couldn't be any more different. The only aspects we shared were our looks: wavy, black hair, almond-shaped green eyes with golden speckles, and our solitary dimples. Mine on the left, and his on the right.

Buzz. Buzz.

I picked up the vibrating phone and slid my finger across the screen.

From: Righty-Tighty Gabe - 8:47PM
Yo lefty-loosey Karris. Left house keys & wallet on my desk. Drop it off for me?

From: Righty-Tighty Gabe - 8:48PM
20721 Bellevue Court

To: Righty-Tighty Gabe - 8:50PM
Funny, that address doesn't lead to the beach where the bonfire you're "allegedly" at is.

From: Righty-Tighty Gabe - 8:51PM
You of all people know that bonfire is codeword haha. Please drop off my stuff? You can stay at the party if you want.

To: Righty-Tighty Gabe - 8:52PM
No thank you bro. I'll just swing by with your things. You of all people know that crazy house parties aren't my thing. Besides it's a Willowridge party.

From: Righty-Tighty Gabe - 8:53PM
You're right. You don't even go here. ;P Text me when you get here. Thanks. Love you, sis! <3

With a sigh, I stood up from the bed and headed to my closet. I threw on a maroon, loose-fitted, light-weight sweater with my school's logo on the front and the word Brampcrest down the left sleeve. I took a look at the 5-foot girl standing in the mirror with thick-rimmed Wayfayer glasses, long dark hair, and knobby knees. I shrugged. I was still in my yoga shorts but I wasn't planning on leaving the car-- taking the time to put on pants was too much work.

Grabbing my purse off of the floor, I hung it from my shoulder as I exited my room and headed across the hallway to my brother's room. I switched on the light, welcomed with the scent of Axe body spray and the life-sized posters of All Time Low hanging on the walls. Trying not to step on the dirty laundry on the floor in fear of catching a disease, I seized Gabe's things off of his desk, catching glimpse of a photograph of the two of us tacked on the wall above his laptop.

I smiled at the memory. It was taken only a month ago at Warped Tour. It was my first time and his third. His friends bailed so it was just us and Berkley. The photograph was taken during Mayday Parade's set. They started playing "Three Cheers for Five Years" when Gabe lifted me up onto his shoulders. He was able to walk us closer to the front and that's when Derek Sanders jumped off of the stage to hold my hand.

Best. Day. Ever.

I trekked down the stairs where both my parents were. My dad sat at the kitchen island enjoying a glass of wine as my mom had her hands inside a large bowl.

"Where are you going?" dad asked, taking notice of my purse and the car keys in my hand.

"Gabe left his wallet and house keys," I told them.

My mom shook her head in disapproval, but still had a smirk on her face, "he always forgets. Be quick okay Karris? And drive safely."

"Yea, those crazy kids party too hard," dad chimed in. "They're unfit drivers right now."

"I doubt they're partying hard. I think they're just roasting marshmallows," I defended, trying to reassure that my brother was at a harmless "bonfire" not at some Project-X party.

My parents looked at each other for a moment before bursting into hysterical laughter. I stood in utter confusion, scanning my eyes back and forth between my two Asian parents.

"What's so funny?" I questioned.

"We're not stupid," dad stated confidently, "we may not have swag or we may like to stick to traditional values from living in the Philippines but we are not dim. I think we all know that your brother is not at a bonfire."

I was impressed.

"Then why do let him leave the house when you know he's lying?" I asked them both.

"Gabe is a terrible liar, but a smart kid. He knows better than to get into trouble. As do you Karris," mom complimented. She gave me a smile and I sent her one back.

"Sounds legit. Well I'm gonna go now. Be back in about twenty minutes," I announced, leaving the kitchen and walking into the dark garage.

I slipped on a pair of combat boots and pressed the garage door opener. I hopped into my car, turning the key into the ignition and hearing a rumble escape the engine. The air conditioning filtered through the vents, blowing my baby hairs back. I plugged in my iPod into the auxiliary cord letting the sounds of my favorite bands soothe my night drive to the house party.

It only took about seven minutes to get there. The house Gabe sent me to was pretty huge. It wasn't a 10-room mansion, but compared to the house I lived in and the others in the area, this house was pretty freaking gargantuan. Plus it was at the edge of the beach. If the fancy cars in the driveway didn't give clue to the amount of money that exuded from this humble abode, then the location definitely did.

I dialed Gabe's number and pressed the phone up to my ear. I waited and waited but no answer. I let out an annoyed exhale, redialing my brother's phone. But again, no answer.

To: Righty-Tighty Gabe - 9:13PM
Dude! Come outside. I'm at the front of the house.

I waited for a few minutes for a reply, looking out the window for any sign of my rebellious twin. Every light in the house was on and cars upon cars lined up the curb in the surrounding area. I could hear the bass of the music thump against the walls, making it seem as if the entire house could collapse.

I called my brother again in hopes he would answer, but as I thought, he didn't. Maybe he can't hear his phone? Then again who could with the loud music. Though I originally hadn't planned on stepping outside my vehicle, I had no choice but to do so. I parked about a block away when I finally found an empty space, and it was only because a car had pulled out. I grabbed my purse and Gabe's things, exiting the car and closing the door with my hip.

I sauntered down the sidewalk, enjoying the cool, fresh air. The nighttime silence allowed me to hear the crashing waves of the high tide and I relished in the comfort. However, as I reached closer and closer to the house, the thumping music took over. I walked up the stone-made porch steps and to the front door. A large hanging lantern was perched from the ceiling, acting like a spotlight for all arriving guests. I pushed open the unlocked door and BAM.

This is why I don't do house parties.

Like a wrecking ball to my face, I was hit with the smells of alcohol, weed, and hormonal teenagers. Red cups littered the entire vicinity as loud, raunchy party-goers lined the halls, staircase and each corner of the home. As I awkwardly walked through the foyer, I received dirty looks from each person I passed.

Gabe owes me.

I reached the living room area where even more people hung around. I scanned the area, searching for the mop of dark hair I knew so well. I saw everything but my brother. From couples making out on the couches, to people snorting only God knows what, and a significant amount of ass grabbing, I swore I was in a rapper's music video.

I guess walking around and not paying attention wasn't the greatest idea, especially because the house was congested with so many people.

I felt ice-cold liquid dribble down my chest, sending me on a jolting trip. My mouth opened wide, my eyes grew, as I stepped back and looked down at myself. The entire front of my sweater was drenched in alcohol and a red cup lay at my feet. I heard several gasps and I could feel eyes burning into my skin.

"Watch where the fuck you're going nerd!"

I finally looked up, and my eyes met a familiar, but angry face. The boy had messy, dark blonde hair, the majority of it covered by an olive green beanie. He wore black skinny jeans and a navy blue Willowridge Hockey shirt with its sleeves cut off. I knew he looked familiar-- he was on the hockey team with my brother.

Number 15, Irwin.

"I-I-um... I'm sorry," I stammered, looking from the boy to the others around him.

"You wasted a perfectly good drink loser, and you got it all over the carpet. What the hell is wrong with you? Never been to a party before? Jesus!" number 15 shouted into the air. While the area around him was dark, I could still see his light skin redden with fury.

"I'm sorry," I repeated. I was so embarrassed, what I would give disappear at that moment. "I'll clean it up."

"No, you'd probably just make it worse. You can just get the fu--," he paused suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed as his vision narrowed in on my chest. He stepped closer to me, so close that I could actually smell the fellow. Alcohol, mint, and amber wood.

"You go to Brampcrest," the boy sneered, sending a glare so deadly, I might as well load the gun myself. He pointed at me and I looked down to see that his knuckles were bruised. "Get out of here. I told your dickface friends already that if I see them anywhere near my house again that I'd be more than happy to chop their balls off and hand it to them in a mason jar."

Friends? What was he talking about? I didn't know anyone at the party, and just because I went to Brampcrest it had nothing to do with my after-school affiliates. Maybe I should tell him I'm looking for Gabe?

"I'm looking for--"

"I don't give five fucks of whom you're looking for," he cut me off. He gave me a shove on the shoulder before sending me another death glare, "get the fuck out of my face Brampcrest. And tell your stupid hockey team that I'll save the rest of my beating for the ice."

I didn't want to argue. I was way too embarrassed and scared to say anything else. I decided to just leave the house and wait in my car till Gabe answered his phone. There was no way I could spend another minute in this Hell hole-- how Gabe managed to do it was a talent all on its own.

I walked the same way out as I came in. Through the hall of judgment and towards the door to my freedom. Why I didn't learn from the last time about walking and not paying attention was beyond me, because when I felt my damp body smash into another one, I wanted to kick myself in the head.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," I hastily apologized, wincing from whatever torment was to come.

"Chill, it's okay," a chuckle filled my ears and I looked up to see a boy smiling down at me. He had dark blue hair that matched the identical shirt number 15 was wearing too. This boy was another hockey player, though I couldn't remember what jersey he wore.

"Sorry again," I mumbled and continued my endeavors to the front door. My wrist was grasped and tugged on. I looked down to the pale fingers that were wrapped around my wrist before glancing back up at the boy who still had a smile on his face.

"You looking for Gabe?" he asked, and immediately my face lit up.

I nodded my head quickly, "yes! How'd you know? He's my brother and he left his wallet and keys at home. He asked me to bring it to him. Do you know where he is?"

"I've seen you come to some of our games before," he answered, "and he actually stepped outside about five minutes ago."

That's when I realized. Number 24, Clifford. He was often on the bench and never out on the ice. He was a strong player at times but for the most part... a rooster could do better.

"Awesome," I sighed with relief, "thank you so much!"

Without letting number 24 reply, I catapulted out the door. I hurriedly ran down the porch steps, to the sidewalk where the street was. I looked left and right, searching for my meandering twin. I pulled out my phone, discovering a missed call from him. I redialed his number, pressing the phone to my ear and walking away from the house. I continued down the sidewalk, towards the end of the street where the court filtered out.

"You're nothing but dirt... you'll never amount to anything,"

"Too many hockey pucks to the head,"

I could hear angry yells in the distance and while my brain told me to mind my own business, my feet had its own prerogative. I was approaching the end of the block near where my car was parked when I saw a group of guys. Quickly, I dropped down to my knees, hiding behind another car. I peaked through the car's window and curiously watched the circle of boys.

"Your entire hockey team is a joke. Brampcrest will never be as great as Willowridge!"

"Only in your dreams Villanueva!"

Gabe?

My body shot up like a bolt of lighting at the sound of my last name being thrown out like trash. I eased myself closer to the group, still trying to keep myself hidden. The way the moonlight and the street lamps hit the group, I could see perfectly who was before me: Brampcrest hockey captain Sebastian Grey, number 9; defensemen Jason Clarke, number 20 and Parker Reynolds, number 33; goalie Nathan Aoki, number 10.

And Willowridge hockey captain-- my twin brother, Gabe Villanueva, number 2.

They attacked him. Faster than my brother could respond, the members of the Brampcrest hockey team pounced on Gabe like a lion catching its prey. It was four to one, and it was unfair. I could hear Gabe's yells and groans as a cacophony of punches and kicks were hurled towards his frail body. I wanted to help him but I didn't know what to do. I wasn't a fighter and I would surly die by just one punch to the gut. But there wasn't enough time to think-- I had to do something!

I kept my eyes fixated on the group, pulling out my phone to call authorities-- and that's when I saw it. Gleaming in the moonlight, in all its power, was a handgun pointed straight for my brother's head. My hands covered my mouth in fear, dropping my phone in the process.

"Hello 911, what's your emergency?"

The dispatcher on the other end radiated out of my phone's speakers but at that moment I couldn't think to respond. All I could think about was that gun and my brother who was at the wrong end of it.

BANG! BANG!

A spark ignited and a plume of grey smoke erupted from the gun, as the gunshots echoed like a thunderstorm like no other. Gabe's body fell to the asphalt beneath him as his merciless executioners sprinted away in my direction. I dropped back down to the floor, biting my lips to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs.

"Gabe," I panted. It was getting harder and harder to breath, and my stomach was clenching from pain. Everything around me was blurry, blending together like dripping paint on a canvas. Tears plummeted down my cheeks, coating my lips with a salty kiss.

"Karris?"

I looked up, locking eyes with Sebastian. The anger in me skyrocketed with no limit, causing me to jump and hurl myself towards my evil classmate.

"You killed him! You murderer!" I bellowed, hitting Sebastian in the chest with all the strength I could muster. Suddenly, my movements were stopped as Sebastian's large arms pinned me up against the car and choking my neck. He pointed the same gun he used on my brother to me, caressing my forehead with the weapon's tip.

"It's a shame to have to see both Villanueva siblings gone," Sebastian sneered.

He's going to kill me.

"What the fuck man?" Jason Clarke chimed in, hitting Sebastian on the shoulder. "Don't hurt her."

"Yea dude, what the hell were you thinking about using the gun in the first place?" Parker Reynolds scolded. "We're gonna be in big ass trouble."

"We'll win championships with Gabe dead," Sebastian justified. His team mates staggered, taken aback by their captain's words.

"This is way deeper than hockey!" Nathan Aoki declared. "We're going to jail for this!"

"Not if she tells," Sebastian's malicious eyes glared at me and having the courage to look him back in the eye, I shuddered because it was like looking into the eye of a monster. "If you say one fucking word about this night, you won't live another day. That goes for your parents and your precious best friend. I'm a powerful person with a shitload of money Karris. Pretend this never happened or I can make your life hell until the day I decide it's time for you to stop breathing."

I'd rather he kill me now.

Sebastian dropped me and immediately I grabbed ahold of my neck, breathing heavily as I tried to suck in as much oxygen as I could. I started crying again, not knowing why my life suddenly turned upside down in a blink of an eye. As Sebastian and his friends ran away from me, I hurriedly rounded the car and down the street where Gabe lay. Following the streetlight, it guided me like a pathway.

"Righty-Tighty Gabe," I whimpered, falling to my knees just above my brother's head.

My twin, my everything, my right-hand man lay lifeless-- eyes identical to mine, they were still open and glistening in the moon. His own blood poured out of his temple and while I wanted to stop the flow, I knew it'd be useless. Gently, as if he could still feel pain, I lifted his head onto my lap, stroking his damp, dark hair. I took off my sweater, wiping the excess blood from his forehead and closed his eyelids. It was like he was sleeping, passed out after a night of partying with friends. But he wasn't sleeping.

He was murdered.

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Hey everyone! That was the prologue to my newest 5SOS fanfiction, SLAPSHOT. I know I have other stories in the works and this one will have slower updates than RUN BABY RUN; DRUNK WORDS SOBER THOUGHTS and ONE LAST LULLABY. I had this prologue written and I wanted to at least have it up for you to read and form an opinion on.

PLEASE tell me what you think! Any criticisms are welcome. If you do like this story, please VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE with your friends. Also, add it to your library for my next updates.

THANKS for reading! <33