Take Me Home Tonight.
Take Me Home Tonight.
The day had only just started and I was at a loss already. Surrounded by people I had both never seen and never heard of before - and it was driving me crazy. For the past few weeks all I'd heard was to come to this dead-end club, to meet people and get out of my house, and yet the moment I had come here my friends had started to be picked off one by one by different boys and I was left at the bar alone with their drinks and hand bags.
Believe me when I say this was not what I had in mind.
"Oh my gosh, Chase, this is so much fun!" My friend, Alana, squealed, completely out of breath as she flopped onto the stool next to me. I loved the girl to pieces, but she was blind to everyone's suffering.
"Yeah, exactly what I had in mind," I told her, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "To come here and watch my friends get with as many different men as they can while I sit here and look after their possessions, bored and alone. What have I been missing?"
"Grumpy guts," she pouted. "Get out there."
"That's difficult when I have to look after all these bags." Alana grinned.
"I'll look after them!" As soon as the words left her mouth, yet another man (or maybe the same as before?) came up and asked her to dance, to which she replied with a vigorous yes and left me alone with the bags she was supposedly going to look after while I had fun. I sighed, ordering yet another alco-pop as I people-watched - I was in no mood to get drunk right now, but every time I tried to order a soft drink one of the group came over and told me to order something alcoholic, so here I was with the weakest alcohol I could think of in such a loud place.
"Turn that frown upside down!" A drunken boy with dark hair ordered me, sitting on the stool Alana had vacated only two minutes before. I scowled. I hated drunk people most of the time, especially when I was alone and not in the mood to even think about intoxication.
"Any reason I should? I'm bored, sober in a nightclub and alone. I have no reason to smile," I stated, not even having the energy to be polite.
"Grumpy guts!" He accused, the same echoing accusation that Alana had made. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she had put him up to this. "You sound like my friend," he told me as I attempted to turn away. "He's whining about being sober but refuses to drink!" I rolled my eyes. I didn't need another drunken storyteller in my life; I'd had enough of those.
"That so?" I asked hollowly. I shouldn't accommodate his stories, but through sheer boredom and bad judgement I allowed the wrong words to slip out of my mouth.
"Yeah! He got dumped weeks ago, and he's being no fun, so we dragged him here and he won't even drink!" I could almost see him pouting, but didn't care enough to turn around from my surveillance of the club. I just wasn't all that interested. I watched a girl walk over to the boy beside me, picking him off also. For someone who had been annoying me, I was quite sad to see him go. Once more, a body filled the stool next to my own, this time ordering themselves a drink before talking to me.
"Sorry about him," the person offered, now becoming clear it was a man. "He's had too much to drink and doesn't know when to shut up."
"You don't say."
"I'm Alex," the man told me, trying to make me turn.
"Chase."
"Aren't you going to shake my hand?" Alex laughed nervously. I turned to him, seeing him raise his hand for me to shake, which I did lightly. His dark brown hair was ruffled at the back, though in a way it was clear was purposeful, the front of his hair a little better off than the rest and obviously styled. He seemed familiar.
"I'm going to take it you were the topic of the last boys conversation," I told him, finally noticing the lack of alcohol surrounding him and the smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah, I guess. That was Jack, he likes to tell pretty girls my sob stories in hopes of making me move on," Alex frowned.
"How many pretty girls has he told this story to?" I asked with a slight laugh, trying to lighten his mood a little. Having not given anyone else a chance tonight I was quite shocked to see myself actually being friendly toward this boy.
"Just the one. Mine and his definition of pretty differs - the other girls he told weren't really all that pretty, and he got through a lot of them before he found you," he grinned sheepishly.
"Are you trying to call me pretty, Alex?"
"Just a little." I ducked my head, hair falling over my pink tinged cheeks, using my drink as an excuse for this.
"Well, thank you, I guess."
Half an hour later, a boy pulled Alana back over to me, her legs not seeming to be able to support her as much as they should have done. I smiled sympathetically at Alex as I turned to my friend, finally hearing from a man who called himself Jeremy that she had drank too much and it would be a good idea for me to take her home before she did something stupid.
"Looks like I have to cut this conversation short," I told Alex, picking up my friends' bags, intending to tell me two other friends that I was taking Alana home and give them their things. I bit my lip as I turned away from him, forcing myself not to do what I wanted - hoping he would do it himself. I heard a heavy sigh as I took my first step.
"Wait, Chase," Alex called. I turned back to face him, hope swelling in the pit of my stomach. "I was wondering if I could have your number? I'd - um - kind of like to see you again, if that's okay?" I smiled softly, hoping the next time he would see me would have the label of a date. I nodded, putting my number into his phone before quickly leaving - wide smile plastered on to my face.
"Chaseyyy!" Alana called in a sing-song voice. "There's a boy on the line and it's not for me! He sounds cute!" She was pouting again. She always pouted. It had been two days since the night at the club, making it Sunday night and my nerves jittery at the thought of Alex not calling.
I know, I'm a complete sucker.
"Hello, this is Chase," I said as I put the phone to my ear, watching Alana's wide eyes and hopeful face.
"Hey, it's Alex, you know, from the club?" The voice on the other end sounded. I smiled widely. Alana tried asking me who it was, but I only waved her off and turned away.
"Hi, Alex. I was beginning to think you wouldn't call," I laughed nervously.
"Sorry, I was a little busy trying to cure Jack's hangover. The man had enough liquor in him to fill a dam," he told me. "But, yeah. Now I'm calling. And I was wondering if you wanted to go for a coffee or something?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. When?"
"Now?" He laughed nervously. I heard a slap from his end.
"Alex, it's 9pm on a Sunday night..."
"Exactly, it'll be dead! I like the quiet." I heard another slap, this time a little further from the phone.
"I'll agree if you tell me what the hell that noise is?" Alex's nervous laughter picked up again. Sadly, I had a weakness for nervous boys.
"Jack hit me, so I hit him back."
"And why did Jack hit you?"
"Because I was being a stuttering idiot and won't ask you out properly?" His answer came out as more of a question than a statement, causing laughter from who I assumed to be Jack.
"Then slap him again, because I think it's cute when boys get nervous." I blushed lightly as I heard once again a slap from the other end of the phone, and a screech of pain from Jack. I snickered.
"So, coffee place on Yorktowne Plaza?" Alex asked me.
"Yeah, I'll see you in ten," I replied, still smiling brightly. We said our goodbyes and hung up, me coming face to face with Alana in the mean time.
"So? Who was it? What's happening?" She demanded.
"That was Alex. I met him at the club on Friday and we're going out for coffee. I'm meeting him in ten minutes." Alana squealed, hugging me tightly and telling me over and over that she knew something like this would happen.
In all honesty, I'm glad it did. The feeling of hope and happiness bubbled away in the pit of my stomach; a feeling I'd lost track of long ago. And I just had this sneaking suspicion, Alex was exactly what the doctor ordered.
Believe me when I say this was not what I had in mind.
"Oh my gosh, Chase, this is so much fun!" My friend, Alana, squealed, completely out of breath as she flopped onto the stool next to me. I loved the girl to pieces, but she was blind to everyone's suffering.
"Yeah, exactly what I had in mind," I told her, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "To come here and watch my friends get with as many different men as they can while I sit here and look after their possessions, bored and alone. What have I been missing?"
"Grumpy guts," she pouted. "Get out there."
"That's difficult when I have to look after all these bags." Alana grinned.
"I'll look after them!" As soon as the words left her mouth, yet another man (or maybe the same as before?) came up and asked her to dance, to which she replied with a vigorous yes and left me alone with the bags she was supposedly going to look after while I had fun. I sighed, ordering yet another alco-pop as I people-watched - I was in no mood to get drunk right now, but every time I tried to order a soft drink one of the group came over and told me to order something alcoholic, so here I was with the weakest alcohol I could think of in such a loud place.
"Turn that frown upside down!" A drunken boy with dark hair ordered me, sitting on the stool Alana had vacated only two minutes before. I scowled. I hated drunk people most of the time, especially when I was alone and not in the mood to even think about intoxication.
"Any reason I should? I'm bored, sober in a nightclub and alone. I have no reason to smile," I stated, not even having the energy to be polite.
"Grumpy guts!" He accused, the same echoing accusation that Alana had made. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she had put him up to this. "You sound like my friend," he told me as I attempted to turn away. "He's whining about being sober but refuses to drink!" I rolled my eyes. I didn't need another drunken storyteller in my life; I'd had enough of those.
"That so?" I asked hollowly. I shouldn't accommodate his stories, but through sheer boredom and bad judgement I allowed the wrong words to slip out of my mouth.
"Yeah! He got dumped weeks ago, and he's being no fun, so we dragged him here and he won't even drink!" I could almost see him pouting, but didn't care enough to turn around from my surveillance of the club. I just wasn't all that interested. I watched a girl walk over to the boy beside me, picking him off also. For someone who had been annoying me, I was quite sad to see him go. Once more, a body filled the stool next to my own, this time ordering themselves a drink before talking to me.
"Sorry about him," the person offered, now becoming clear it was a man. "He's had too much to drink and doesn't know when to shut up."
"You don't say."
"I'm Alex," the man told me, trying to make me turn.
"Chase."
"Aren't you going to shake my hand?" Alex laughed nervously. I turned to him, seeing him raise his hand for me to shake, which I did lightly. His dark brown hair was ruffled at the back, though in a way it was clear was purposeful, the front of his hair a little better off than the rest and obviously styled. He seemed familiar.
"I'm going to take it you were the topic of the last boys conversation," I told him, finally noticing the lack of alcohol surrounding him and the smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah, I guess. That was Jack, he likes to tell pretty girls my sob stories in hopes of making me move on," Alex frowned.
"How many pretty girls has he told this story to?" I asked with a slight laugh, trying to lighten his mood a little. Having not given anyone else a chance tonight I was quite shocked to see myself actually being friendly toward this boy.
"Just the one. Mine and his definition of pretty differs - the other girls he told weren't really all that pretty, and he got through a lot of them before he found you," he grinned sheepishly.
"Are you trying to call me pretty, Alex?"
"Just a little." I ducked my head, hair falling over my pink tinged cheeks, using my drink as an excuse for this.
"Well, thank you, I guess."
Half an hour later, a boy pulled Alana back over to me, her legs not seeming to be able to support her as much as they should have done. I smiled sympathetically at Alex as I turned to my friend, finally hearing from a man who called himself Jeremy that she had drank too much and it would be a good idea for me to take her home before she did something stupid.
"Looks like I have to cut this conversation short," I told Alex, picking up my friends' bags, intending to tell me two other friends that I was taking Alana home and give them their things. I bit my lip as I turned away from him, forcing myself not to do what I wanted - hoping he would do it himself. I heard a heavy sigh as I took my first step.
"Wait, Chase," Alex called. I turned back to face him, hope swelling in the pit of my stomach. "I was wondering if I could have your number? I'd - um - kind of like to see you again, if that's okay?" I smiled softly, hoping the next time he would see me would have the label of a date. I nodded, putting my number into his phone before quickly leaving - wide smile plastered on to my face.
"Chaseyyy!" Alana called in a sing-song voice. "There's a boy on the line and it's not for me! He sounds cute!" She was pouting again. She always pouted. It had been two days since the night at the club, making it Sunday night and my nerves jittery at the thought of Alex not calling.
I know, I'm a complete sucker.
"Hello, this is Chase," I said as I put the phone to my ear, watching Alana's wide eyes and hopeful face.
"Hey, it's Alex, you know, from the club?" The voice on the other end sounded. I smiled widely. Alana tried asking me who it was, but I only waved her off and turned away.
"Hi, Alex. I was beginning to think you wouldn't call," I laughed nervously.
"Sorry, I was a little busy trying to cure Jack's hangover. The man had enough liquor in him to fill a dam," he told me. "But, yeah. Now I'm calling. And I was wondering if you wanted to go for a coffee or something?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. When?"
"Now?" He laughed nervously. I heard a slap from his end.
"Alex, it's 9pm on a Sunday night..."
"Exactly, it'll be dead! I like the quiet." I heard another slap, this time a little further from the phone.
"I'll agree if you tell me what the hell that noise is?" Alex's nervous laughter picked up again. Sadly, I had a weakness for nervous boys.
"Jack hit me, so I hit him back."
"And why did Jack hit you?"
"Because I was being a stuttering idiot and won't ask you out properly?" His answer came out as more of a question than a statement, causing laughter from who I assumed to be Jack.
"Then slap him again, because I think it's cute when boys get nervous." I blushed lightly as I heard once again a slap from the other end of the phone, and a screech of pain from Jack. I snickered.
"So, coffee place on Yorktowne Plaza?" Alex asked me.
"Yeah, I'll see you in ten," I replied, still smiling brightly. We said our goodbyes and hung up, me coming face to face with Alana in the mean time.
"So? Who was it? What's happening?" She demanded.
"That was Alex. I met him at the club on Friday and we're going out for coffee. I'm meeting him in ten minutes." Alana squealed, hugging me tightly and telling me over and over that she knew something like this would happen.
In all honesty, I'm glad it did. The feeling of hope and happiness bubbled away in the pit of my stomach; a feeling I'd lost track of long ago. And I just had this sneaking suspicion, Alex was exactly what the doctor ordered.