Stories from the Back of His Motorcycle

“How much longer are you going to drag this out Delia?” I asked impatiently. We were in Josh’s bathroom, staring at our reflections and painstakingly attempting to rectify them – well, Delia was. I just leant against the door and glared at myself, trying to forget all of the piles of work calling out to me back home.

“God,” Delia rolled her heavily lined eyes. “Just let your hair down for once, will you?”

I subconsciously ran a hand through my brown hair, finding far too many knots and split ends. “Maybe I’m just aware that there’s a group of people downstairs with alcohol in their cups and probably on the floor. And I’m also aware that when they’re gone and you’re drunk, I’ll be the one cleaning it all up.”

She just pouted her lips and added another layer of cherry lip gloss to them. Delia was a beautiful girl with and without makeup but she couldn’t see it – she liked the security heavy foundation and thick mascara brought. I warily eyed my fresh face and grimaced at the obvious difference between us. Not only was she infinitely smarter than me she was also a million times prettier.

“Come on then grumpy,” she finally wrenched herself away from the mirror and patted my arm as she passed. I followed obediently out into the throng of Josh’s ‘friends’. Out into the mass of complete strangers called in to celebrate Delia’s boyfriend’s birthday.

I was here for my best friend, not that she needed me anyway, she flitted between groups like a bee between flowers. I stood awkwardly near the front door, counting down the minutes until they would all leave. Of course I was staying here until late to ‘help’ clean. The things I did for Delia…

I looked on as she downed her fifth shot. It was almost scary to watch the transformation alcohol took on her because it was so apparent. She was normally bubbly and intelligent, spontaneous but tactful. With another shot in her hand she was blunt and rude, far too giggly and seemingly incapable of speaking at a normal volume. She was playing a drinking game with some strangers she seemed to find hilarious. I sighed out heavily and relaxed back onto the stairs.

And then I saw that black hair, those eyes tinged with grey, high above everyone else. It was momentarily surreal and then just plain annoying. Vaughn Hart was everywhere I was no matter how far I went out of my way to avoid him altogether. The other day when my car had broken down he had been far too close – too close to my body and my thoughts. My car had died but my sense hadn’t disappeared with it. I took my rides with Delia and steered clear of any motorcycles and outstretched helmets.

He hadn’t seen me. Vaughn was hitting the drink harder than even Delia, swigging a bottle of what looked suspiciously like vodka. I leant further back into the shadowed stairs while careful not to bump into a couple making-out just a few inches away from me.

Vaughn wasn’t alone though, he was chatting distantly with a blonde by the sink who could only be Cassidy Blockhead Blockwood. I narrowed my eyes, willing myself to remain the ice queen I’d always been. Vaughn Hart couldn’t hurt me; I was far above stupid emotions like infatuation and then the inevitable pain which followed.

“You want a drink Alice?” Josh was passing by, offering out a shot of red liquid.

No. “Okay,” I took it from him before shoving it down my throat. It burned but not enough to make me gag so I faked a smile at Josh. He was a nice guy really but there was something almost suspicious about him. Like that he was too nice. Or too quick to brush our fingers together when I passed the glass back.

“Have a good night Alice,” he made his way over to the now drunk Delia, hugging her tightly from the side. I was just being stupid in jumping to conclusions about him. Josh was good for her, she was always happier with him around.

“I will,” I muttered to nobody in particular “as soon as I get to bed.”

“You talking to me sweetheart?” My eyes reluctantly met his, moving up his figure which was now blocking escape from the stairs. Oh, he was smooth. And quick. I hadn’t even seen him approach.

“No,” I snapped, already feeling an odd dizziness brought on by that shot no doubt. “I was talking to these two,” I gestured weakly at the couple still cemented together at their lips.

“Sure you were,” he smirked before bringing the alcohol over his mouth. I turned away so as not to watch. Vaughn Hart definitely was not my friend but I still didn’t want to watch him sink low into the pit of bare consciousness. Where you could move your limbs but had no control over them, where your thoughts were jumbled together and mouth slurring ever word.

“You should have some respect for yourself instead of drinking that stuff like its water.”

“And you,” he swooped closer “shouldn’t wear such short skirts.”

“I’m wearing jeans,” I snorted, rolling my eyes at him.

“But they’re tight,” he pointed out indignantly “and make it hard to concentrate.”

“I think that’s the alcohol, not my jeans.”

“You’re just scared of what you want to do with me and those jeans,” he smirked again.

“Actually you should be scared – I can get a good kick in from here,” I seethed, pulling consciously at my top and hating myself for blushing under his scrutiny.

He shrugged, still smirking, and took another gulp of drink. I rested my now aching head against the wall and tried to wriggle some feeling back into my legs. That shot must have been strong to have such an immediate stark affect on me.

“You’ve been avoiding me all week Alice,” he spoke into our silence, other noises around seemingly soundless.

“No,” I lied “I’ve just been busy.”

“You out-right ignore me in English.”

“Maybe that’s because I have work to do and I want to graduate high school with something other than a bad reputation to my name.”

Vaughn wobbled slightly from where he stood, eyes roaming around my face as if desperately searching for something to focus on. Something that would prevent him from completely toppling over. Something that might have betrayed any inkling of what I inwardly felt.

“No, it’s because I let you on my motorcycle,” he pointed a finger at the place just to my left, completely uncoordinated. “You’re scared because, in your strange pessimistic world, that means something.”

“It didn’t mean anything.”

“I know it didn’t but did you?” he slurred the last words until they were just a noise.

A frown finally broke through my nonchalant mask but it wasn’t from his words – albeit slurred ones. It was from the fact that Vaughn was literally about to drop, I’d seen that posture too many times before in Delia.

Instinctively, I stood and stepped down the steps until we were face-to-face. He smirked and leant forward slightly, thinking that I was actually going to kiss him. Instead I pushed his face to the side gently and took his arm. I tried to make it look as non committal as possible, just a Good Samaritan helping out a drunken stranger but I still got the attention of almost every girl in the room. Shouting something would probably have had a less dramatic affect.

“You like me,” Vaughn’s words were almost completely incoherent.

“Shut up,” I hissed angrily.

“Alice likes me,” he smiled sloppily at a passer-by as he informed them of this downright lie.

“If you don’t shut up I’ll be the one to push you over and not help you up, screw the alcohol.”

He smiled, seemingly unfazed by my weightless threat. “Why don’t you ‘dmit it. You like me and my c’garettes.” I had come to realise that he was enjoying my apparent discomfort so just led him quicker over to the sofa before dumping him down.

“Stay here. Don’t touch anything or,” I narrowed my eyes at his hand which was advancing alarmingly close to my stomach “anyone. I’ll be right back.” I quickly stole his alcohol – definitely vodka – and, ignoring his winging protests, darted past bodies to get to the kitchen.

It was quiet as I ran the cold tap at the sink. Everyone seemed to have congregated themselves into the living room, either enticed by the promise of a drinking game or the idea of seeing Vaughn Hart at his weakest. I grabbed a glass I knew was definitely not one of Josh’s mum’s favourites and filled it half way with the water. Too much and it would spill. Too little would require a second journey.

A familiar sound suddenly surrounded me, a vibrating echoing out of my pocket. I plunged my free hand to retrieve my phone before noticing the called ID. Mom. What could she want? It was a Saturday night; she knew that I never got out of the house so called just to make sure I was reigned back in. Still in enough distance to reach out and grab hold of.

“Not tonight,” I whispered to the phone, rejecting the call and not even caring if she knew it. I was going to be little wilder tonight. I was going to live a little; follow in Vaughn’s heavily imprinted footsteps. With that in mind, I dumped the water out of the glass and poured some of his vodka into it. This time the alcohol was a lot sharper in my throat and I very nearly threw it back up, and was too dizzy to feel glad when I didn’t.

I was a complete lightweight. I was already bordering on drunk. I was about to pour myself another glass when the bottle was snatched away from me. “Hey,” Vaughn narrowed his eyes as he surveyed me, still wobbling slightly “you never came back.”

“Just having a drink of my own,” I smiled stupidly but felt no qualms about it. Vaughn Hart could think I was ugly all he wanted, it didn’t matter right now.

“Not with my vodka you’re not.”

I rolled my eyes and moved to walk past him but he caught me by the waist. “Stop,” he said gently.

It didn’t even occur to me that his hot arm was pressing against my stomach or that his lips were merely centimetres from my own. I just wanted to get the next drink. I could already feel my thoughts dropping away and only a faint dizzying happiness enclosing me in its warmth. I wanted more of that. I wanted to completely forget, do something for myself for once.

“I’m living,” I struggled “like you told me.”

“Not like this you’re not.”

“You do. You do this all the time. Why can’t I?”

Vaughn was almost completely sober the next time I peered up into his dark eyes. By his twisted features I knew he was thinking and thinking hard. He very rarely made that expression. His arm closed tighter around me so my back was pressed lightly into his chest.

“Just don’t Alice. You don’t want to be like me.”

“Tonight I do.”

He groaned in frustration before moving his other hand to press gently on his head. “Believe me when I say that you don’t. The morning after isn’t worth it, the disappointed look on everyone’s faces, the total memory loss of the entire night. We’re all running to forget something but this isn’t the way to do it.”

“Hypocrite,” I muttered but knew he was right – that I was being utterly foolish.

“I am,” he sighed and I squirmed when it tickled my hair “but some things are too hard to forget and too easy to run away from.”

“That didn’t make any sense,” I rested my head back so it settled into the crook of his neck “I think.”

“I see you’re an intelligent drunk,” I could feel the smirk on his face even if I couldn’t see it. I was suddenly so tired that my eyes felt almost glued together. I had to lie down. I had to go to sleep.

“Woah,” Vaughn felt my body just slump against his, arm securely keeping me upright from around my waist. “Where are you staying tonight?”

“Delia’s,” I yawned. “I’m the designated driver.”

“Is Delia drunk?”

“Out of her head is more like it,” I said slowly. The words felt sticky on my tongue.

“Well then you two have a dilemma because, unless you want to cause a major accident or get arrested by the police, you can’t drive there.”

“I’m not even that drunk,” I protested weakly.

“If you were sober, would you really be letting me touch you right now?” Vaughn whispered in my ear, his hand stroking the material of my top slowly. I laughed quietly, without much effort, at him. “Just let me find Josh and…”

I was gone. Passed out or asleep. I vaguely remember hitting my head against something as I fell but then nothing. Nothing until the moment that I woke up.