Made To Leave You

October 30, 2003

“Perfect,” Cora Carmichael-Carrington said, giving herself a flirty wink as she coated her full lips with the reddest of red lipstick, something that stood out even more in contrast with her porcelain skin and jet black hair. It was the ideal compliment to the pin-up girl costume she'd worked so hard to create over the past month. Sure, it would have been far easier to buy something ready made but this was a special occasion. It's not every day that a girl turned sixteen. Today really had to count.

“Hey, hooker. You about ready?” her twin sister, Rynn, asked as she breezed into the bathroom to steal a spritz or two of Gucci Envy. “We're going to be late to our own freaking party all because you can't paint that pretty face up quick enough.”

“Since when do you care about being on time?” Cora laughed. “Come help me with these damn garters will you? Whoever designed these things obviously was thinking more about taking them off than putting them on because they're beyond impossible to fasten correctly.”

“You really are helpless, aren't you,” Rynn replied, rolling her vivid aqua colored eyes. “And, by the way, the only reason I'm so intent on being on time to this stupid thing is because your amazingly amazing boyfriend booked the freaking Strokes to play tonight! Can you even imagine how bummed I would be if we missed them? You know how I feel about Fab Moretti. The dude is pretty much my soul mate.”

“But does he know that?”

“He will after tonight,” Rynn said, flashing her sister a mischievous grin. “And...there! You're good to go, darling. Now let's jet. Daddy Dearest's presents are sure going to come in handy tonight.”

Rynn ran from the room with a swish of her Little Red Riding Hood cape and Cora heard the heavy click of the front door a moment later.

With a sigh, she adjusted the straps of her silken negligee. Birthdays were supposed to be happy occasions, ones that you shared with family and friends, people that loved you. And yet, at least as far as she was concerned, the only person on the planet that she wanted to see tonight was 7,000 miles away in Tokyo.

Her father loved her, she knew that he did, but sometimes it was a struggle to remind herself of that day in and day out. Especially when the last Christmas they'd spent together was when she and Rynn were eight years old. Especially when the most contact they had with him nowadays was the odd video chat here and there. And especially since the only thing they got on their freaking sixteenth birthday was a pair of matching BMW Z4s. Not even a phone call, not even a damn Hallmark card, nothing even remotely personal. Nothing at all that said “Hey girls, I love you more than anything in the world” or “I'm really gutted that I couldn't be there with you on this momentous occasion”. Was that too much to ask of your father? Was it really?

And it wasn't exactly like they had a mother to make up for the paternal deficit.

Cora shut her eyes tightly and tried to think of anything else besides the ghost of a woman that haunted her daily. Their mother, Sloane Tinsley-Carrington, had died the night they were born. More specifically, the night Cora was born. A thought that always led her down a dark and morbid path. What if their mother hadn't been pregnant with twins? What if Rynn had been born second? What if Cora hadn't been born at all? Would their mother still be alive? Would she have had a happy and healthy life? Would they have been the picture of familial perfection, the three of them? Would her father have never devolved into the shell of a man he was now? Was it all Cora's fault? Was it?

She tried to shove these thoughts to the back of her mind where the image of her mother, smiling and healthy, just sixteen, the same age she was turning this very day, rested, burned forever into her subconscious by the photo sitting always on her bedside table. This was no way to celebrate, this was no way to ring in another year, a year that should be one of the best so far in Cora's young life. Her mother would have wanted her to be happy today, Cora was sure of it. So happy she would be. Or at least some semblance of happiness.

One last glance in her three way mirror and Cora was out the door and into the extravagant comfort of her sleek, black convertible. The heavy autumn rain, having held off nearly all day, was just starting to fall and she prayed that Asher hadn't planned any of the night's festivities out of doors.

Thoughts of her boyfriend, as per usual, finally managed to bring a genuine smile to Cora's face as she expertly maneuvered the twisty rural roads of Clifton Park.

Asher Gaffney-Remington. A WASPy name for sure, but Cora took solace in the fact that he didn't really live up to his pretentious moniker. Sure he was Shenendehowa High's star quarterback, sure his dad was the mayor, sure he lived in easily the most lavish mansion in upstate New York, but he didn't let it affect who he was, not like most of the other kids she knew. He wasn't a prisoner to his circumstances, he didn't look down upon others, he didn't allow the fact that he had much more than most people make him snobby or superior, and, in all actuality, he gave the majority of his more than generous allowance to charity. But mostly, above all else, he loved Cora with all his heart and had since the second he'd laid eyes on her all the way back in sixth grade. Despite the cliche of such a statement, to say they were star-crossed wouldn't be too far off the mark.

But, as in every relationship, however perfect, they had their issues. And in their case it was a big one. An age old one.

Sex.

To clarify, this wasn't a case of girlfriend holding out on boyfriend in some sort of feminine power struggle, no, it was nothing like that, not at all. In fact, Cora wanted nothing more than to sleep with Asher. She loved him whole-heartedly and she trusted him more than anyone in the universe (except for Rynn) but, knowing what had happened to her mother, she just couldn't allow herself to do something so reckless. Not when she was about to turn the exact same age her mother had been when she'd become pregnant. Not when she knew the outcome of that fateful mistake. And, to be fair, Asher had never been pushy. He completely understood Cora's reasoning and he loved her more than enough to respect her boundaries.

Or at least he had up until recently.

Apparently, thanks to the infamous school gossip, Marguerite Beaumont-Bishop, Asher's teammates had become aware of the fact that Cora was not “putting out” and, knowing that they'd been dating for over four years, had quickly come to the conclusion that Asher was still a virgin (something that was nearly unheard of at Shenendehowa High, especially amongst the football team who's philandering ways were the stuff of legend). Needless to say he was mercilessly ridiculed and more than half the school's population were now questioning his sexuality, regularly yelling out such intelligent taunts as “Fag!” and “Queer!” when he and Cora would enter the lunchroom. For a sixteen year old quarterback who had never before found himself to be the least bit unpopular this was pretty much hell on earth.

And so it started.

Seeing as how their father was nearly never at home, Cora and Rynn's house had become the place to hang out for the who's who of Shenendehowa High. This was a perfect set-up for Rynn, who was fast becoming the most infamous party girl in Clifton Park history. She wasn't the head cheerleader or the homecoming queen, like her little sister, but she was definitely a hell of a lot more fun. She always had the best booze, the most drugs, and the hottest boyfriends. With her dyed purple hair, her nose ring, and her combat boots she pretty much ruled the school (a fact that never failed to amuse her, considering the fact that she hated ninety eight percent of the preppy, pretentious morons that went there). So, while Rynn partied it up in the rest of the mansion, Cora and Asher took full advantage of the privacy that Cora's bedroom afforded and spent several long and delicious afternoons “studying”. These stolen moments never progressed past third base, a fact which Asher had never once complained about. That is, until the taunting started. And then, every once in awhile, at least a few times a week, Asher tried to take things just a little bit further. At first he would quickly back off when Cora stopped him, always apologetic even through his obvious disappointment. But, as the days passed and the ridicule got worse, he became more insistent, telling Cora that she didn't really love him, that she was just a tease. Cora was stunned to hear him say such things and even began questioning her own morals, wondering if maybe he was right, if maybe she was being a terrible girlfriend, if maybe she wasn't fully showing him the depth of her love and commitment. But then she remembered her mother and remained firm in her resolve, she was not going to lose her virginity, not until she was at least eighteen and not to anyone that she wasn't convinced she would spend the rest of her life with.

It had been a few weeks since they'd last argued about this particular issue, Asher having abandoned the guilt-trip ploy when Cora threatened to break up with him, and Cora crossed her fingers that tonight would remain strictly drama free.

“No admittance without an invitation,” a gruff male voice said when Cora pulled up to the massive iron gates that encircled Asher's parent's estate.

She rolled down the window and waved at the guard shack and seconds later the gates slid open noiselessly.

“Sorry about that, Ms. Carmichael-Carrington,” the aging guard said, running out to greet her with a grin on his weathered face. “I didn't recognize the new car.”

“Early birthday present from Dad,” she said with a wry smile. “Is the place packed yet, Reggie?”

“I don't think that boy could fit another person in that house if he tried,” the old man laughed with a twinkle in his eye. “Oh! Before I forget, wait right here just one second.”

He disappeared into his little brick shack for a moment before returning with a small gift wrapped package.

“It's not much,” he said, handing it to her almost shyly. “But the Mrs. and I sure do think awfully highly of you, sweetheart. You're the reason Asher has such a good head on his shoulders. With the way his older brothers turned out, it's a miracle he isn't stuck in one of those boot camps or detention facilities.”

Cora felt her eyes tear up a bit, touched deeply by this small token of affection.

“Aw, Reg,” she said, a little choked up. “You shouldn't have.”

Reggie turned scarlet to the tips of his ears.

“Now none of that,” he said, looking down at his shoes. “You'd best be getting in to your party, darling. That boy's called out here half a dozen times looking for you. He's going to think you've gone and gotten yourself in a car accident or something.”

Cora waved good-bye and followed the winding driveway up a steep hill and past a vast stretch of flawless landscaping where Asher had obviously directed all their friends to park. There were BMWs, Mercedes, and Audis as far as the eye could see, thrown into park haphazardly by drivers that had more than likely been developing a pre-party buzz, and leaving not a single space unoccupied. Thankfully, Asher had given Cora the code to the massive twenty car garage ages ago and she was able to pull her BMW in and out of the rain in no time flat.

“About damn time!” a familiar voice screamed in her ear as soon as she walked into the mansion's vast kitchen from the garage. “We've been looking everywhere for you! Haven't we, Ash? Tell her! Tell her!”

“Wow, Rynn,” Cora laughed, looking at her sister draped over the arm of some random hipster looking type. “Already partying hard, huh?”

Her sister was spared the need for a response as the guy carried her away laughing and Cora was left alone with Asher who looked very happy to see her indeed.

“The girl doesn't lie,” he said, leaning down to kiss her adoringly. “I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me.”

“Forget about you?” she asked, looking up at him through thick eyelashes. “Never. And what's with the “costume”? Football player? Really? Hmmm, not much for stretching your imagination are you?”

“Maybe I use all my imagination on far better things,” he answered, kissing her deeply, the alcohol on his breath flooding her senses.

“Besides,” he added, popping a set of fangs in his mouth. “I'm a vampire football player. Totally different.”

“Oh, yes,” she laughed. “Totally different. You're not going to try and suck my blood are you?”

He gave her a wicked grin as he looked her up and down.

“Looking at you in that costume? I'm going to have to say yes. Yes, I'm definitely gonna try and suck something.”

“Save it for later, Romeo,” she purred in his ear before tousling his blonde hair playfully. “Right now I'm just here to enjoy my party.”

“Then your wish is my command.”

Taking Cora's hand, he led her through the rest of the house which was packed wall to wall with teenagers and twenty-somethings running the gamut from witches to cowboys to unicorns to Donald Trump in drag. There were kegs in every corner and bottles of vodka, tequila, and champagne being passed around freely along with Asher's finest stash of marijuana. He'd obviously spared no expense, as evidenced by the five sexily scruffy musicians setting up in the living room which, for the time being, was blasting the bass heavy sounds of Chingy's “Right Thurr” from the Gaffney-Remington's state-of-the-art intercom sound system.

“Shots in the dining room, mixed drinks in the den, and presents in the library,” he said with a few gestures and a grin. “Please make yourself comfortable while I go check on the talent.”

He gave her a quick kiss and pushed his way through the drunken crowd of girls surrounding The Strokes.

Cora stood where she was, the throng of people around her pulsing and moving in time to the music. This party was incredible, absolutely incredible. This was the kind of party that any sixteen year old would kill for. So why wasn't Cora excited? The music was amazing, the band was incredible, there was no shortage of alcohol or drugs (not that that was really Cora's scene anyway), everyone that she cared about in the universe was in attendance, there was absolutely nothing lacking. And yet Cora still felt that familiar feeling crash over her like a tidal wave, the force of it almost leaving her breathless. Something terrible was about to happen. She could feel it in every fiber of her being.

Something was wrong.