Blossom for Me

It was pouring rain, something absolutely uncommon in Arizona during this time of the year. At this time, the monsoon season that only occurred in July and August should have not yet begun. The sullen skies should have been bright blue. The weather also should have been clear; the temperatures at a better ninety degrees. Instead, the sky was dark gray, entirely covered by thick, ash-colored clouds. She had to admit to herself that it was somewhat nice for a change to have the cool temperatures—even if ‘cool’ meant almost eighty degrees, which were, nevertheless, better than the hundred-plus degrees they had been getting all summer. However, as the rain continuously pelted down, making loud tapping noises on the roof and windows as it had been for the past week or two, a headache was beginning to form at her temple. Inside the house, it was no better. The speakers in the living room were blaring a song by Third Eye Blind and the make-shift dance floor in the middle of the den room was packed with the bodies of hormonal teenagers. The air was thick and too stuffy for her liking. There were much more people there than the maximum capacity for the building suggested. It was impossible to move around without brushing arms with someone else.

Calliope Berkley stood off to the side, leaning against a wall, keeping as far a distance from the dancers as she could, and drinking her choice of poison out of one of the infamous red plastic cups. Her thick dirty, brownish blonde hair was pulled messily together in a loose bun, her make-up, light and very subtle. Her light green eyes were lined with brown pencil and a few slicks of mascara made up her long eyelashes. Her cheeks were pink, lightly dusted with blush-on, contrasting well with her fair skin. She ran her finger under her eye, wiping off any trace of make-up that had smudged, while she scanned the room. She brought the cup to her chapped lips, taking a sip of the alcoholic drink that left her throat burning, as she searched around the room for familiar faces. Her green eyes traced the faces of the crowds, each face unfamiliar, belonging to someone she'd never met before. She pushed herself off the white wall and tugged at the bottom of the striped, white-and-indigo sundress that hugged her body self-consciously, attempting to pull it past her knees to no avail. It remained at mid-thigh, where it was meant to be, as she released the hem from her grasp and crossed one leg in front of the other in an awkward pose.

“Put that cancer-stick out,” barked Meagan from beside her. Callie turned her head to the side and looked over at her best friend questioningly. Meagan was glowering at their other friend, Ashleigh, who, at that moment, held a thin cigarette, placed gingerly between her pointer and middle finger.

Ashleigh rolled her pale blue eyes at her two best friends, who were gawking at her, while she took one long drag. She didn’t seem to comprehend what their problem was as they stared at her with looks of censure. Even so, she flicked the cigarette on the floor and stomped on it with the heel of her shoe. She tucked her bright pink lighter and the box of cigarettes into the pockets of her leather jacket and sighed, giving them an inquiring expression.

“Since when do you smoke?” Callie asked her after a moment of silence passed between the three friends, distaste clear in her voice.

Ashleigh tapped the box of cigarettes in her hands and pulled out another one from inside as Meagan turned her head around. She lit it with her neon lighter while Meagan’s attention was elsewhere and took a drag.

Blowing out the smoke coolly, she replied, “Since, like, forever, Callie.”

Callie rolled her eyes, not believing one bit the words that came out of her friend’s mouth. Since when did her friend suddenly like smoking? She couldn’t remember a moment when Ashleigh hadn’t said she detested those ‘carcinogenic, nicotine-coated death sticks’.

“Please,” Callie sneered. “You hate smoking.”

Ashleigh took in her friend’s skeptical look and shrugged her shoulders dismissively. With an indifferent look at her friend, she brought the new cigarette to her lips. At the same moment, Meagan averted her attention back to the two girls beside her, widening her eyes at what she saw. Before Ashleigh knew it, the cigarette was pulled out of her hand, thrown onto the floor, and squashed beneath the bottom of Meagan’s high heel. Meagan gave Ashleigh a look of disapproval, her mouth turned downward into a frown.

“Give me the box, Ash,” she demanded of her friend. It was only for her own good, Meg rationalized aloud. She wouldn’t allow her friend to begin such an awful habit.

The corners of Ashleigh’s lips curved down, as well, into a scowl as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, where she had previously tucked the cigarettes and the lighter.

“Now,” Meagan ordered more forcefully, holding her hand out in expectancy. She tapped her foot mildly on the hardwood floor of the house they were in as she waited impatiently for it, curling her fingers into her palm in a gesture for Ashleigh to cough up the cigs in her pockets.

Ashleigh’s frown only worsened, her eyebrows now knitted together, as she pulled the box from its confines in her jacket and slammed it onto the palm of Meagan’s hand.

“Smoking‘s gross,” Callie voiced, speaking in a disgusted manner. She scrunched her face in distaste at just the thought of the subject.

“Yeah and drinking isn’t, either?” Ashleigh muttered under her breath. Callie knew that her friend was only trying out smoking to be rebellious. She also figured Ash didn’t appreciate that her and Meagan were dictating what she do from the way that Ashleigh was scowling at them. It was obvious that Ashleigh didn’t like that; that was why she was challenging her friends and their actions so childishly.

“You drink, too! And, at least, I can hold my liquor,” Callie responded defensively. As if to prove her point, Lisa, their—drunken—friend stumbled over clumsily, the contents in the cup in her hand swaying dangerously, just barely spilling over the rim.

“Hey”—hiccup—“Hey guys.”

Lisa could barely hold herself up. She looked beat up. Her red dress was ruffled and the loose strap on her shoulder had fallen off. Lisa’s pretty blonde hair was disheveled, partially sticking up in different directions, and her eyes were dazed, fluttering every once in a while. Meg, going into her motherly mode, stole Lisa’s cup from her hands and patted her back gently. “Lisa, Sweetie, I think that’s enough.”

“No, no, no,” she protested, wagging her finger at Callie foolishly. “I’m just”—hiccup—“fine.”

“Lis, how much did you have to drink?” Callie asked with concern, though she did find her friend’s behavior rather amusing.

Lisa put her hand up and counted manically on her fingers. “One, two…five, nine, three…seven?” When she reached thirteen, in an unordered fashion, she gave up, shrugging her shoulders and pouting her lips unattractively. Ashleigh and Callie laughed loudly while they shook their heads at the mess before them.

Meagan frowned, her entire aura emitting disapproval, as she held Lisa up by the arm. Callie noted that Lisa’s thin legs were only just about keeping her up; Lisa’s alcohol level must have been dangerously high at this point. Meagan’s arm slithered around Lisa’s waist to hold up her friend and announced, “I’m going to go find someone who can take her home, okay? I’ll be back.”

The other two girls nodded their heads at their friend. With a final, worried glance at Ashleigh and Callie, Meagan dragged Lisa through the crowd towards the kitchen, pushing past the other kids in the house. Once the two were out of sight, Callie pulled Ashleigh to an empty sofa for her legs were getting tired from standing for so long. After shoving their way between the myriad of teenagers, they reached the sofa and plunked down onto its soft cushions. Callie could tell that the sofa was used often. Its cushions had permanent indentations and when sat on, sunk lower than ought to. She scooted to the side, hoping by doing so she wouldn’t be so low in her seat.

Callie wasn’t that fond of parties; she usually went for the booze—and because her best friends always forced her to tag along. She didn’t understand why they always urged her to go when she barely ever saw them. It was partially her fault because she always glued herself to a secluded area—like the couch she was on now, but Garrett and Pat always disappeared from her side whenever they got there in the first place. She rarely saw them during the hours of a party; especially when there were as many kids as there were now. She was lucky that Tim or Jared, or even John, sometimes—when he wasn’t trying to bed another girl—usually found her before she was considered drunk. If not, she was sure that she would have gotten into a lot of trouble. And surely a huge headache the next morning. It was miracle to her that Meagan actually came with her this time to keep her company for once—at least until she went off to find a ride for Lisa. Meagan’s older cousin never allowed her to go out to parties. He was too much of an overprotective prick and he had her parents to back him up whenever she asked to go. It was even more of a miracle that Ashleigh stayed by Callie’s side this entire time. She had a way of disappearing like Garrett and Pat did. But Callie knew her friend all too well. Ashleigh was—for lack of a better word—a flirt. She liked boys and boys definitely liked her. Callie could never bring herself to call her best friend a ‘whore’ or a ‘slut.’ It was even difficult for her to think those things, but she knew that they were true.

Swishing the contents in her cup, Callie’s eyes scanned around the room, silently watching those who danced, chatted, and mingled. She didn’t really want to stay at this party any longer. She had no choice, though. It was still raining cats and dogs and they were a couple towns over from home. Pat had begged her to go. He had promised her that she would enjoy herself. “It wasn’t the same crowd that we’re always around, Cal,” he’d told her. He’d also sworn to her that she would have fun because they were different people—since they went to a different school. He even went as far as saying that maybe she would meet a guy. It was easy for Callie to say that Pat had absolutely been wrong. She wasn’t having any fun, at all. It didn’t help that it was just past ten and that the party was now full swing. None of her friends—if she could even find them—would oblige to take her home at this time in the night. None of them would’ve been able to.

Ashleigh was typing furiously on the ‘qwerty’ pad of her phone beside her as Callie relaxed into the cushions on the back of the sofa. She hadn’t said a word to Callie since their small dispute about smoking. That was a while ago now. Callie didn’t know why Ashleigh still stuck by her when she knew her friend was a little upset. Meagan was nowhere to be found at this point. It’d been at least a half hour since she left with Lisa and Callie was now wondering what had happened to them. Callie let her eyes scan over the party, hoping to catch a glimpse of her friend’s brown hair or her chocolate complexion, but instead of finding Meg, she found Meagan’s cousin, Max, looming just above her.

“Hey, Cally-P,” he cheerily greeted.

Callie scowled. “I’m not little anymore, Moose,” she whined in exasperation. Max had been calling her that since they were little. Back then, he couldn’t pronounce her full name correctly, but as they grew older it became something like a pet name—one she wasn’t fond of. She was actually getting tired of it. “When are you going to stop calling me that?”

“Never, kid. I’ve known you way too long not to,” he declared. He ruffled her dirty brown hair, causing her bangs to strewn messily over her forehead. “You’ll always be my Little Cally-P,” he said in a sickly loving voice.

She frowned in response, folding her arms defiantly across her chest, as he smiled down at her. “Whatever,” she retorted, rolling her eyes.

His smile grew wider as he leaned down, opening his arms wide. She struggled to dodge his attempt to embrace her in a hug, but failed when he wrapped his arms securely around her shoulders. When she finally wiggled out of his grasp, he straightened up and waved his hand at her, shooing her away from her spot. She reluctantly obliged and scooted to her right to make room for him on the couch as he fell onto the cushions.

“Having fun?” he asked over the music when he was settled in his spot.

“Loads. Can’t you tell?” she replied sarcastically.

He let out a hearty laugh and nodded his head. “For sure.”

He looked around the room, glancing between her and Ashleigh. “Where’s my baby cuz’?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

Callie shrugged and looked over at Ashleigh. She was still completely engrossed in the conversation she was having to notice Max on the other side of Callie. Either that or because she didn’t want to acknowledge him, Callie concluded. She figured it was the latter; she knew for a fact that Ashleigh wasn’t exactly fond of Max. So she turned her head back around to look a Max, leaving Ashleigh be beside her, and she said, “Last time I saw Meg, she was trying to find a ride for Lisa.” She let out a dismal sigh. “Lis was pretty smashed.”

Max rested his arm around on the back of the sofa behind Callie, his mouth curving downward.

“Again?” he sighed, his brow furrowing with concern.

Callie laughed lightly and lifted her shoulders up once for a small shrug. “No surprise there,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Max let out a small laugh—a half-hearted one because he was still concerned for the girl. They all knew that she drank too much for her small body to handle. Callie noticed his worry and patted his leg.

“She’ll be fine,” she reassured. “Next time, we’ll just have to watch her.”

Next time, Callie thought. If she could get a dime for every time she said ‘next time.’ It was an ongoing occurrence. Having to watch Lisa sometimes was like watching a five-year-old in a crowded room of strangers. It irked her a little that Lisa’s older brother didn’t watch out for her more—that it had to be her friends, not that it bothered Callie that much. That was what best friends did, she insisted to the little Callie in her head. They watched out for each other, especially when one of them was falling to the floor. But Callie was going to have to talk to Eric about Lisa’s problem. And she was definitely going to have to talk to Garrett and Pat about dragging her to these stupid shindigs.