chapter 11: bravado (lorde)

     Walt always thought that the day on which he'd go to a party was the same day he would fail a test. It could never happen, not because his parents would let him, but because the idea itself was dumb. He preferred staying home or going to the park over anything else. Getting drunk, high or even smoking a cigarette would never be a part of his plans.

    So, when Holly brings him to an underground party, he's scared of peeing in his pants a little bit. It is held in an abandoned subway station; one Walt only heard of when his parents talked about. The ground vibrated with the loud music and the dancing teenagers. The smell of alcohol, smoke and susceptibly harmful substances overflowed in his lungs; this is everything posters at school warn kids about. He can't see any of the football players, a certain level of safety is achieved.

    Holly, though, is grinning, as if she just won the lottery. Music hurts his ears. She grabs his hand and pushes through the never-ending crowd with "move the fuck out of the way!"s. All Walt can think of is the warmth of her sweater-covered hand against his; it is the only part of him that he can vividly feel the blood rushing to; almost to rescue him.

    She grabs two cans of Coke and makes Walt hold a shot of tequila, having to reach beside a couple that were making out as if their lives depended on it. She shouts; "Get a room or make room, for fuck's sake!"

    They are lead to a staircase that only few people are close to, and eventually to a railing, above the entire party. Walt can watch the scene safely and observe how disgusting and crazy people his age are. Holly sits down, the only obstacle between her and the free air being the railing, pops open the Coke can and pats down the seat next to her.

    "This, my dear, is a party," she says. "I'm about to give you a load of lessons, so buckle up."

    Walt doesn't touch his Coke and watches the crowd with vague fascination, "how in the world is dragging me here on a school night going to help me? Why's no one home?"

    "Because, Walt, this is home to them. There comes a point in everyone's life where alcohol and music tops everything else. Now, stop talking and just listen to words of wisdom."

    "Okay," his eyes scan for Ana and he finds a girl who looks like her, dancing with a boy he'd never seen.

    "First off, you need to understand that a small percentage of kids stay home. They pass classes and get drunk, later. It's normal for them to get drunk and high. In order for you to be accepted, you'll have to make more than one appearance into one of these parties."

    "No! I refuse it. Holland, I don't drink and I don't smoke. If this is what it takes—"

    She snaps, "Walt. Chill the fuck down. You just need to get in, then you can get out if you want to." She isn't looking at him anymore. At his confused gaze she says, "You empty a beer bottle somewhere and put Coke or whatever inside. You drink from the same bottle. You hold the cigarette between your lips for twenty seconds, not thirty and not ten, without taking a puff. Actually, take a puff. You need to relax. You drink a maximum of five shots."

    "Wow," he says.

    "That's nothing. On to the next thing. Are you gay?" she asks.

    "W-what?"

    "Are. You. Gay. What team do you play for?" Her eyes smile at him.

    "I'm not," he stumbles, "I like girls. I like Ana."

    She seems surprised. "Not guys?"

    "No."

   "Oh, well. So, you're going to have to learn how to chat with girls at parties. This isn't related to anything about relationships and shit like that, that's just basic stuff."

    "O-kay?"

    "Any previous girlfriends?"

    "No."

    Holly carefully puts the tequila in her Coke, covers the top with her thumb and shakes it. She takes a long gulp and says, "Great. Pretend I'm someone you saw across the room and you want to kiss me."

    "I don't—"

   "I know you don't want anyone but Ana," there is a hint of annoyance in her tone. "But if Ana is a horrible person, which she, indeed, is, you need to be prepared to move on. Go."

   "Uhm. Uh. Hi?"

    Holly finishes her drink and almost bursts into laughter. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

    "I'm not good at this."

    "No, shit," she twists her body to face him. "Get up, go five steps back and walk to me slowly. Look at me. If I look back at you, sit next to me. Remember, I'm a stranger that you're attracted to."

    Walt didn't realize that he was shaking until she looked at him and gave him a faint smile; he sat next to her and balanced the can in his hands.

   "Hi," he says.

   "Hey," she holds the can in her hands tightly.

    "I'm Walt."

    Her voice is low and seducing, "Holly."

    "I saw you and I think—"

    "Be assertive," she goes back to a commanding tone. "Don't think. Just do."

    "Right. You look lonely."

    "Never ever comment about a girl being lonely," huffs Holly. "Lonely is sexy."

    "Sorry. Uhm."

    "This isn't working. You can talk to me about the party itself. Strike up a random conversation. Then, if I give a fuck, I'll go along with the conversation. Only, and only, if there's a bucket load of sexual tension in the air, will you kiss me."

    "I—"

    He sees her up close and the view makes his lungs forget how to do their job. She smirks and he can see the outline of her lipstick, every curve and finish line. Her eyes drop down to his lips and she drops the can into the crowd.

    He can feel her breath on his lips."Then, you kiss me."

    Walt doesn't know how to kiss. He doesn't want to kiss anyone but Ana. He doesn't want Holly to laugh at him if he does something wrong. But most of all, he doesn't want the whole thing to go to waste.

    He turns away and clears his throat. "Got it."

    "Of course you do," her voice squeaks. "I'm a fucking legendary teacher."

    "..."

    "I'm going to go get another drink."

    "Okay."

    "I'm bringing you one too."

    "All right."

    She got up and left.