Take It to Heart

University was now out of session for winter holiday. Finals were over with and the second week of December brought Sheffield a new blanket of snow. Charlie had yet to shovel the walk and I was too lazy to take care of it, which resulted in my staying inside all day. I spent my afternoon pacing around the sitting room with my mobile phone pressed between my shoulder and ear. Josh’s voice crackled due to shitty reception, but it was enough of a connection to hear his pathetic excuses. He called this morning, conveniently once my mum and Charlie left for work. He wanted to talk about the wedding, which was now only a week away, and in my opinion it was a little late to be filled in. I listened anyway because I wanted to know about his fiancé and, admittedly, I missed my brother loads.

“I’m really happy, Rose. I never thought I’d get married, you know?” he recited, like he’d saved this speech for every member of the family. “I just wish you could have met her before this.”

“And whose fault is that?” I grumbled.

He sighed. “I know. I need to try harder to be around, Dad does too. He’s excited to see you.” There was a pause and I knew what was coming. “How’s Mum taking the news?”

“We haven’t really talked about it.” I switched the phone from one ear to the other so I could put the kettle on the stove. “She wasn’t shocked that she didn’t get an invite. She was upset, of course, even though she didn’t say anything. You are going to have to suck it up and at least ring her.”

“Don’t be daft, I’ll call her eventually. I just need to figure out what to say. I love her, and I want her to know what’s going on in my life, but I couldn’t do that to Dad. Inviting her would just be bad news.”

As water for my tea started to hiss, I scrounged around for a packet of biscuits and teabags. Josh kept jabbering away on the other line about how our dad planned the rehearsal and is excited to see me. It had been almost a year, I think, since I last saw my dad. He figured out texting and sends me messages now and then. For the most part though, we share emails and occasional phone calls. I wish I could say I was as excited to see him, but I felt like it would end up very awkward. Is there really even a valid excuse for not seeing someone in a year? England is small enough to day trip somewhere. Maybe I was at fault also.

“Dad’s been seeing someone, too.” Josh said.

I stopped midway through dunking my teabag to comprehend what I just heard. Even though Mum was remarried and everything, Dad had never dated. Not that I ever knew.

I tried to hide the surprise in my voice. “Really? What is she like?”

“She’s wonderful, truly. It started a couple months ago, I think he knows her from work. Josephine, that’s her, is like the best thing to happen to him. You’ll really enjoy her I think. She’s anxious to meet you. Dad always has you described as stubborn as a mule.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine Dad with anyone. That may take some getting used to.”

“It was at first. Just try not to judge before you meet her. Dad would be really gutted if you two don’t get on,” he said. I was being warned not to make a scene. “But blimey, enough about Lark and me and dad, what’s new with you, Rose? You’ve a date to the wedding? Any suitors waiting for your hand in marriage?”

Thankful for the change in subject, I finally took a sip of my tea. “I’ve just finished another semester at uni, and yes to the date,” I said sheepishly. “We’re just mates though; it’s not like a real thing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And believe it or not Naomi and I have been getting on better lately. She’s not bad once you get past her piss poor attitude. Anyhow, I’m glad you rang, but I’ve got some things to do. I’ll catch up with you when I see you,” I babbled. It was almost easier being distant from Josh than having to talk to him like a brother. He wanted to know things and chat. We’d have time at his rehearsal dinner to make up for lost time.

“Okay, see you soon,” he said. “And happy belated birthday, I’m sorry I forgot.”

He disconnected before I could tell him it was fine. I stood in the kitchen for a moment soaking in the conversation. Now, nerves about the wedding began to sink in. Not only was I taking Oliver, but I also had my dad’s girlfriend to meet and my brother’s fiancé. What an overwhelming feeling.

It wasn’t until late evening that my day began to pick up. Anna was over raiding my closet for something to wear. I couldn’t even remember the last time we saw each other in person but after days of bugging me, I finally told her I would let her come with me to one of Oliver’s parties. The party tonight, to be exact. She settled on a slinky black dress that I didn’t know I even owned, and even though my feet were slightly larger than hers, she was wearing a pair of my heels. They were nude with a black trim along the bottom. She looked stunning, as usual, with her hair pulled back and slick makeup.

I, on the other hand, didn’t feel like I needed to actually dress up. I had no one to impress, and no one knew me well enough to try and judge me. Despite my protests, Anna had me in tight, black jeans, a gold tunic-esc shirt, which showed far too much cleavage, and black flats. My hair was in loose curls and my eyes were accented with mascara and a hint of shadow. I held my ground on not wearing heels. The whole outfit was out of my comfort zone.

“Stop fretting, you look lovely,” Anna assured me. She turned sideways, looking into the mirror, to check out her own arse.

“Your bum looks fine,” I commented. “Let’s go before all the alcohol is gone. God knows I’ll need it.”

Anna always turns into a hot mess when we go out. At the end of the night, I get to play the role of her mum and hold her hair back while she becomes ill. It is always my job to make sure she isn’t going to pass out in the loo or end up crying over something. Without alcohol in my own system, this would be nearly impossible. I hid away a small flask with a couple shots in my purse for my own benefit. And, before we left the house, I threw a couple hair ties, a pack of gum, and a cab card into the bag to complete my Anna survival kit.

Like every other party hosted by Oliver or one of his mates, the commotion could be heard from outside. Anna trailed behind me as we approached the house party. This side of town was foreign to me. I figured I should just walk in instead of relying on Oliver to answer his mobile and come outside. The front entrance was unlocked and we let ourselves in. Smoke escaped as soon as the door opened and the heavy scent of weed coated the entryway. Surprise, surprise.

“This is bound to get broken up,” Anna commented. Suddenly she wasn’t so excited to be here.

In the sitting room, the first person I recognized was Tom. He had his arm around some girl’s shoulder, talking her up. When he saw me, he simply nodded, winked, and went back to talking. I wanted to ask where Oliver or Matt was, but his attention was already off me.

“Let’s check the back garden,” I shouted to Anna and grabbed her hand.

I led her through the mob of people and out a sliding glass door. In the garden, a group of people sat round a hookah on pillows and cement. None of them looked familiar.

“Aye lass, who are you lookin’ for?” The speaker was tall, slim, and nicely dressed. He flashed Anna and me a side smile before getting up from a pillow and walking over to us.

“Oliver, have you seen him?”

“Upstairs. You Rose?” He asked. Had Oliver said something about me?

I nodded and turned back toward the house. Anna let go of my hand at that moment, smiling at me. She wanted to stay and flirt. Shrugging her off, I made a b-line for the stairs. On the second floor outside of what I assumed to be the loo stood Oliver. He was never really hard to find. His shaggy hair, painted skin, and cocky demeanor could be seen from kilometers away.

“You’re here!” He always made me feel so welcome. Oliver held his arms open for an embrace. I hugged him, letting his arms linger over my shoulders. He tilted down to my level with a smile plastered across his lips before whispering in my ear, “You look fit.”

I felt myself turning pink and tried to ignore the emotion. With a roll of my eyes, I pushed out of his hug and played off the compliment. “Thanks, you look great as well. What are you doing up here?”

“My mate’s sister is yakking in the loo I think,” he explained. “Not my problem anymore, can I get you a drink?”

I grinned sheepishly up at him and retrieved the flask from my bag. “I’ve learned to bring my own.”

Before taking a swig of my own I topped off Oliver’s drink, not really caring what was already inside, with the cheap vodka that soon coated my own mouth and throat. The burning sensation quickly dulled along with the sour expression on my face. If I could afford better quality alcohol, I would.

“I’m well impressed,” he commented. Again, he was close to me. His arm looped around my waist. It wasn’t for show either since only a few other people were on the upper level. I wanted to embrace the feeling, but it all felt too strange.

“My friend, Anna, is here,” I interrupted. “I want you to meet her.”

“Where?”

I tucked the flask under my arm, grabbed Oliver’s hand, and paraded back through the hall. Until tonight, I never noticed the looks I received while around Oli. Even though I found the gesture of holding his hand friendly, people eyed me like I was his hot new play toy. He stopped to talk to a group of girls on the way out the door, without letting my fingers untangle from his, and they took notice. One continued to glance between our hands and faces. She smiled, nodded, and replied to whatever he said. But even as we went on our way, she kept looking. Was it so weird to hold his tattooed palm in mine? It felt no different than any other hand, obviously, but suddenly I had status.

“Hello you two!” Anna sat next to the same boy as before on a porch swing. They rocked back and forth and she leaned slightly into him. Her eyes were already glazed with intoxication, but she somehow managed to hold a conversation and offer to shake hands with Oliver. “I’m Anna. I think you’re Oliver. I wouldn’t know. Rose tells me nothing. Rose, this is Matt, but he tells me everyone calls him Godfrey!”

“It’s his last name,” Oliver informed me. My hand was finally free from his after his introduction to Anna.

“Here, drink this,” Anna said. She handed me a glass of red liquid that I assumed was some sort of punch and liquor. Then she stood up from the swing, not bothering to pull her already short dress down. “I will be right back.”

“Maybe I should follow her,” I said. I watched her through the window as she searched for a bathroom.

“Just because she’s drunk and you’re sober doesn’t mean she can’t still handle herself,” Oliver said. He gestured towards the cup in my hand so I finally drank a sip. It was stronger than it smelled. I couldn’t tell exactly what was in it, but I knew it had to be a mixture of things. I took Anna’s old place on the swing, trying to drink as quickly as possible.

Next to me, Godfrey pulled a spliff from a cigarette carton. “You want in on this?” he asked. I nodded and watched him light it and slowly inhale.

The spliff made a couple rotations in silence before it was put out. I had ignored the cup of punch in my hand because now I didn’t really need it. Anna, just like Oliver said, came back in one piece. She started talking to Godfrey again. They said a few quiet words back and forth, and then he stood up, grinning like an idiot. She shot me a cheeky glance, one we all knew the meaning of, and trotted off with Godfrey on her heels. Where they went, I have no idea.

“I can never take her anyway,” I said. I pushed my heels into the ground, making the swing move. The only good news about her running off to shag someone was now I didn’t have to take care of her.

“Stop lookin’ so bored.” Oliver stepped right in front of me and stopped the motion of the swing. “I hardly ever see you just having a good time.”

I was already high and a bit buzzed but still wasn’t having a good time. He was right. Oliver was always right. So I stood up, our chests millimeters from touching, and grinned. “Then show me a good time, Mr. Sykes.”

Shot after shot after shot burned down my throat. I chased each one with a wedge of lime. Even the sickly sweet taste couldn’t drown out the after-sting of tequila. A group of ten stood in a circle around a table in the kitchen. Some people I knew, some I didn’t. We were trying to play a game called Two Pence. The goal is to bounce a two pence coin into a cup. Two people play it at once. If you make it, you pick someone to take a shot and give the coin to the person next to you. If you don’t make it, and you get overlapped, drink twice.

Already, I had been overlapped more times than I could count. Oliver kept bouncing the coin better and faster than me, designating the shot that should have been his to me. The shots blurred together but I was finally in a good mood. The pace of the game was fast. Everyone was shouting, laughing, and drinking. Oli made his coin again and set a shot full of tequila down in front of me. Full of giggles and confidence, I nudged him. “Stop, you’re just trying to get me sloshed!”

“I think you already are, love,” he said with a grin.

Quicker than I could process, Oli dipped his head low and kissed my cheek. My alcohol tinged cheeks reddened even deeper. I suddenly had the urge to grab his shirt collar and plant a real kiss on his lips. A kiss that would require his full attention and affection. I could imagine myself actually doing it and feeling him kiss me back. However long I thought about snogging him, Oliver kept his peripheral gaze on me. He watched me watch him and he enjoyed it. A smirk lingered on his face, even as we continued to play the game. I could no longer distinguish the warmth in my veins from the alcohol or Oliver.

“I can’t play anymore,” I giggled. I threw up my arms in defeat. The couple across from me bowed out also, and only half of the original players remained. I turned to Oliver, who hardly looked drunk at all. “And you’re coming on a walk with me.”

What was I doing? A walk? Seriously? I hadn’t gone on a walk at a party since sixth form, and everyone knew the point of taking a walk was to snog and get a quick feel up before a party was busted. But I was drunk, too drunk to listen to the conscious side of my brain, and grabbed Oliver’s hand anyway. I dragged him into the back garden again. It was colder now than before and only two people remained near the hookah. Snow was slowly drifting down from the clouds and yesterday’s blanket was refreezing.

“I’m going to regret this tomorrow,” I muttered, walking farther into the snowy grass.

Oliver kept himself close behind. “A hangover ain’t somethin’ to regret, it’s the sign of a good time.”

“Not the hangover.”

The logical side of me cried stop, but all my nerve endings wouldn’t listen. My heart wouldn’t stop beating. Everyone knows you can’t force the butterflies, so if they are there, then embrace them. I made up my mind and turned quickly, letting myself act on the urge I felt earlier. With hands shaking, I brushed off the snowflakes landing on the collar of his coat before wrapping my fingers around the edges. His heart beat could be felt through my fingers. The snow didn’t feel so cold anymore. I stood like that for a moment, trying to balance myself. Oliver watched with his eyes locked on mine. He already knew what I planned to do, but he didn’t stop me, and he definitely didn’t make things easier by making the first move.

Noise from the house silenced and I finally tugged on his coat, bringing him eye level with me. As quick as before, I kissed him. It was just a light graze of a kiss and I kept my eyes open, making sure I didn’t get a negative response. Instead, what I saw was a spark in Oliver’s eyes that I hadn’t noticed since he tried to kiss me in his car weeks ago. Untucking his hands from his pockets, he replaced them on my hips, pulling me into him. The domino effect kicked in. My eyes closed the instant he started to kiss me again. As one, we walked backwards until my back was again the garden wall.

Lips moved, wisps of warm breath tangled together, and I threw my arms around his neck. This was a real kiss. Not the pathetic attempt I just made or a kiss on the cheek. He sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, lightly nibbling on the area before tilting his head sideways and pulling me even closer. I could feel my lips swelling and my heart trying to beat out of my chest. In a way, it was desperate. Oliver had me pinned to the wall with one hand on my face to keep me in place. His body language was protective, like I planned to run away at any minute. And I clung to him, begging for a deeper, hotter kiss with each second.

When Oliver began to lean away, I tried my best to keep him close. My eyes were closed still. I needed to get my breathing under control. He kissed my cheek, my jaw, my neck, and rested his head against my shoulder. The actions sent my nerves back into a frenzy. We had just flipped from one polarity to another in a matter of minutes. I wanted to stay in this moment for as long as I could, but things never stay the way I want them to.

“Oliver!” His head shot up off my shoulder and to the back door. I couldn’t see who stood there, but it sounded panicked. “Police are here!”

He pulled away from me, despite my attempt to stay connected, and shook my hand off his arm. “Find Anna and get home, a’right?”

I nodded, angry and drunk, and pushed past him. The whole scene on my head shattered and reality kicked in. I went from elated drunk to pissed off in a matter of moments. So I threw open random doors, interrupted countless hookups, until I found Anna in a spare bedroom. She was pulling her dress back on with her hair flying in every direction.

“Could at least knock, you wanka!” She cursed, throwing a pair of trousers at Godfrey.

“Police are here, we’re leaving.” I grabbed her purse off the floor and waited.

She was scowling at me, trying to button her coat. “Such a buzz kill, always. You’re never any fun, Rosie.” Her words stung. I was used to it, this was drunk Anna. She turned to Godfrey, “You’ve my number, ring me sometime!”

By the time we made it to Anna’s dingy flat, all was forgiven. I curled up next to her in bed, like we used to do when we got up to no good in sixth form.

“You fancy him, don’t you?” she asked quietly. We were both still drunk and half asleep. “You won’t ever tell him, but I can tell.”

The kiss played over and over again in my head. Where would it have gone if the police didn’t show up? I didn’t reply to Anna because she wasn’t actually asking for an answer, she already knew what I was thinking.