My Paper Heart

The gravel crunched under the wheels of my truck as I neared my house. It was a simple one story house, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The exterior was a nice clean white, made of plastic siding, with black shingles and shutters. The front door was a white, also, and was made of lightweight plastic. It was basically a doublewide on a foundation, but you could never tell it, even up close.

I pulled my truck into the loop around driveway and parked next to my brother's black Geo Storm. The car I am infatuated with. The car I love, but can get over.

Behind us Nick pulled his Tracker into a space next to Dad's white F350. It was a big sonovabitch. Darcie and I rounded the side of the garage, hiding our drinks in a messenger bag that we usually used. If we were lucky Sarah Jane was out getting stoned with her friends, and Sheridan was out dirt biking with his friends, so that left me alone with my friends, which made me happy. The worst we'd have to deal with would be Dad being drunk, but he usually just scuttled into his room after four or five vodka tonics.

I'd drink with him once in a while, only if he offered up first. I never got drunk when he offered up, I only drank one or two -- I have a nastily high alcohol tolerance, and I knew it would haunt me.

I saw Nick jumping out of his window, not ever one to use the door, and Sasha quietly opened his door and exited the vehicle. He seemed so timid. God damn, was this boy ever going to come out of his shell?

I walked up the gravel driveway, artfully avoiding the ditches in which my Chucks would be sucked up by mud. Sasha wasn't so fortunate, his brown vans getting mud splashed up the sides of them. He groaned, and rolled his head on his shoulders. I laughed evilly inside, and pulled the screen door open after hopping easily up the stairs.

The inner door was already open, as the air conditioner was broken until Dad could do something about it. "Daddy!" I shouted through the house. Yes, I'm seventeen, going on eighteen, and I still call my father 'Daddy,' so sue me for being sentimental. "I'm home!" I shouted once more.

Dad, all blond hair and eyes as coffee colored as mine stumbled into the office, where the computer was kept. He tumbled onto his knees and dry heaved. He had been pickled for a while now. I frowned, and set the messenger pack down. Behind me Nick and Darcie ushered Sasha into my room -- which was clean for once -- talking about the house, and whose room belonged to whom.

"Hey Daddy," I said softly, bending down to eye level with him. I didn't reach out to him, I didn't offer him help up. He was the last person you'd want to offer pity. If he wanted help, he'd ask for it. That's why I crouched instead of sitting on my knees. Crouching was more impersonal. "You okay?" I asked, resting my wrists on my knees.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, trying to sit up. He stumbled. I still didn't help him. He finally reached out his hand, and I helped him up, and dragged him into his bedroom. I dropped him on his bed. "Want anything?"

He shook his head and rolled over, asleep almost immediately. I ventured out of his bedroom -- hoping that he wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night and tear the house apart -- and into the kitchen, where Darcie had already set up the blender. Nick sat on the counter, taking swigs out of the vodka bottle. I rolled my eyes and plucked the bottle from his hand, taking a deep gulp from it.

It burned like fire the whole way down. Darcie looked at me sadly, licked her lips, then sighed. She knew she couldn't do anything about it. There was no stopping it. My dad was a drunk, and it had been programmed into me. Big deal.

"'Ere you go, gov'nah," Nick said, handing me the tube of strawberry daiquiri. I smiled, and popped it open with my nails, then dumped it into the blender.

For about twenty minutes we mixed up drinks and started drinking a little bit. Nick, Darcie, and I had a rule: No getting smashed until after sundown. That meant pitch black, not 'the sun's gone.'

After the drinks were mixed we tromped into my room. A couch was set against a wall. It was a dark blue plaid, and beaten nearly half to death. In the middle of the room was a pillow top queen-size mattress, only a box spring and a mattress on the floor. The sheets had all been torn off from fitful nights of sleep, and a heap of blankets, comforters, and pillows were piled on top of it in the corner. My dressers were virtually empty, with me living out of my laundry basket and all. On top of my dresser was a large enough TV that sat in front of a huge mirror that was spider webbed in the lower right corner.

Bookshelves were situated against the wall opposing the couch. It was filled to the brim with everything from Emily Bronte to Hellsing. I had an interesting taste in novels to say the least.

I found the remote amongst the mountain of blankets and clicked on the TV. On it a girl was getting her tongue pierced while another girl watched. It was probably Thirteen. I frowned, and changed the channel. I was in no mood to see my own stupidity flash across the screen in the form of Evan Rachel Wood. I finally settled on FUSE, and some random music video show.

Darcie hunkered down in the blankets, sipping her pina coloda, and complaining about the music videos and how the sucked. "I want to watch some My Chemical Romance!" she barked. I rolled my eyes and nudged her shoulder.

"Shut up, retard," I said, laughing. She rolled her eyes, and pursed her lips. Nick, who had gotten all settled into the couch stood up and navigated his way across the room, sitting behind Darcie.

He rubbed her shoulders. "Aww, is my girl all pissed off?"

"Mhmm."

I rolled my eyes, they were getting into their mushy kissing stage. He pulled her back onto his chest and sipped his drink while she did similarly. I caught Darcie looking at me evilly.

"You seem lonely, why don't you and Sasha snuggle?" she asked, taking on an innocent look on her face. In return I gave her such a violent look that I thought it would surely melt her face. She only smiled sweetly, bobbing her chin at Sasha.

"Sasha, would you snuggle with Goldie? She's all uptight, and she needs a handsome young man to calm her down."

Using my vast (scoff) mental capabilities, I tried mentally screaming at her. It went something like: YOU STUPID LITTLE B*TCH, WHY THE F*CK WOULD YOU DO THAT?! WHY!

But apparently my telepathy skills suck, and my mind is run by the FCC, because she didn't notice a thing, and kept looking at Sasha. My head turned slowly to him. I honestly thought that It was just going to keep going like the girl on the Exorcist.

He sat on the couch, his peach daiquiri clutched in his hand as if were going to be the only thing to save him from me. The tops of his ears had turned pink, and his cheeks turned almost as red as his hair. He seemed petrified by me. Like most guys. Except for Hunter -- Hunter was never scared of me.

"So, would you cuddle with her?" Darcie prodded again. Sasha, beyond the point of embarrassment, avoided eye contact.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he mumbled from the corner of his mouth. I smiled on the inside, but on the outside I was still glaring at Darcie. She seemed triumphant. She waved her hands at me.

"Go! Go snuggle with Mr. Dawson. He wants to snuggle with you." Reluctantly, but not too reluctantly, I go up and sat down in front of Sasha. After a few jagged, and not-so-smooth movements, we got situated to where I was laying on his chest with his legs on either side of me. I had to admit, it was actually really comfortable. Like, he wasn't ripped like a bodybuilder, but he wasn't flab. He was cut.

"You're snuggly," he said, laughing slightly. I rolled my eyes and concentrated on Jared Leto's bare chest in the From Yesterday video. I licked my lips.

"Mmm, that boy is fine," I purred.

"You are entirely too white to be saying that," Sasha remarked. Darcie snorted loudly, as did Nick, and they both almost spilled their drinks down their fronts.

"That. Was. Righteous!" Nick gagged between breaths. I sneered at him.

"You're entirely too emo to be saying that," I shot at him. Nick quieted down, but that got Sasha roaring, and Darcie looked like she was about to blow up from laughing so hard. I glared at them all, then just gave up.

"You all suck," I muttered.

"We know," Sasha said. His voice was smiling, I could hear it. Yeah, he probably was smiling, but his voice just had a smiley tone to it. Ugh, screw explaining it. You either know what I mean or don’t.

***

After about three hours of darkness, we had all gotten our drunk on nicely. Darcie had dug out a some random techno CD I must've burnt a while back out of my CD case, which was, all in all, about five inches thick, and the seams tearing. I needed a new one, and soon.

So we stumbled around my room, like three blind and deaf giraffes, thinking that we were actually dancing well. Darcie and Sasha compared ass-popping abilities to each other, while Nick and I judged. The entire spectacle was hysteric, but in the end Darcie won out over Sasha, whose skills just weren't up to par.

We were once again dancing around the room, Nick and Sasha trying to dance like Michael Jackson and Justin Timberlake at the same time. Darcie and I joined in by dancing like Cher and Shakira. Too many pop culture references, I'm sorry.

After the quote-unquote "dance off" we settled down and started playing truth or dare.

"Uhh, Nick, truth or dare?" Sasha asked. When he was drunk he seriously came out of his shell. It was cute. He was cute. I'm cute when I'm drunk, maybe we could hook up. Mmm, redheaded dirtiness. Uh, back to the conversation.

"Uhm, truth," Nick said, running his finger around the inside of his glass and sucking on it.

"Oookay. Would you ever want to see Darcie and Goldie make out?" Sasha asked, laying upside down on the couch, his head hanging off the edge and his feet propped up on the wall. I raised a drunken brow at him, which must've looked more like I was trying to be sexy, because he only smiled back. I looked at Nick and passed the wine cooler between myself and Darcie, who had her head in my lap. A second ago I had been braiding little strands of her hair, but this caught my attention more now.

"Well, duh, I guess," said Nick, ever the clean minded individual, "That would be super hot." I kicked Nick in the back of his calf and he yelped half-heartedly, and returned to cleaning his glass. He got a little OCD after he got rolling in the vodka. "Eh, Goldie, truth or dare?" he asked. I blinked for a second then figured out what was going on and nodded.

"Dare." Oh shit, why'd I just do that?

"I dare you to polish off that wine cooler," he said, pointing at the bottle that Darcie was gently holding.

"Oookay," I slurred, plucking the bottle from her hands. I tipped it back, and started chugging it. I thought I would drown in the mango drink, but I kept a steady pace. There was about half a bottle left, and as was dared, I finished it off.

"Now you have to keep it down," Nick added, smiling evilly. He knew very well I was going to throw up. I grunted, and took deep, slow breaths, and chewed back my nausea.

"Crap, I'm bored now," Darcie said forlornly. She sat up and grabbed the bottle back from me. I let it go willingly, as I was still fighting off the urge to purge. She kicked a space clear in the floor between us, and spun the bottle.

"Oh shit no, Darce," I begged. She spun it, and it landed on Nick. How convenient. She leaned over, and kissed him on the lips. He smiled and kissed her back.

"Well, if it isn't obvious," I said to Sasha, "we're playing spin the bottle."

"Ah," he said, nodding. He was still upside down, so I could imagine how awkward that would be if he got picked.

Wait! Spiderman kiss! Boo-yah! Darcie and I have had this obsession with getting ourselves a Spiderman kiss since we saw the first Spiderman movie. Nick spun the bottle, and it landed on me. He gave me a quick peck on the lips, and that was it because I knew that Darcie would throttle me if I tried doing anything more. I spun it, and it landed on Darcie.

"Woo-hoo!" Sasha squealed, clapping his hands like a fool. Nick nodded slowly and said, "Nice," in a low voice. I rolled my eyes, and covered Darcie's mouth with my hand, and planted a big fat kiss on the back of my own hand. We had gotten this figured out years ago. Aha.

"You killed my hard-on," Nick muttered dejectedly.

"You've ruined everything sacred and beautiful about two girls kissing, I hope you're happy," Sasha said accusingly. I rolled my eyes and sat back as Darcie spun the bottle. It landed on Sasha. She leaned forward really slowly, trying not to loose her balance, and planted a big fat kiss on his lips. He smiled and tried slipping some tongue into her mouth.

It was probably the booze talking, but I felt betrayed and angry and alone watching them kiss. I could see Nick wearing a similar expression on his face. We both silently ignored them, and Darcie fell back on her ass, nearly knocking over the vodka bottle. I saved it at the last second, making sure none of it was spilled.

So Darcie had gotten her Spiderman kiss and I hadn't. Fantastic.

But I wasn't bitter, ha.

Sasha, as it was his turn to spin, did a backwards somersault off the couch, rolling over his head, and falling awkwardly onto the floor, nearly kicking Nick in the head with his big feet. He laughed, and pulled himself up right, not with out some dangerous swaying, and plopped himself down. With one fluid motion, he sent the bottle spinning. It slowed, and landed on me. Okay, since I was being nasty about Darcie landing on Nick, I have to return the favor to myself.

How convenient.

He smiled, and as everyone had been doing ever so gracefully tonight, leaned forward to kiss me. He slipped, and we both went down, his chin hitting me in the collar bone. I bit my lip, as both objects were bony. He looked at me, shocked at what had happened, and he began to blush. "Uh, I'm sorry."

I smiled and kissed him. I guess it was a little too enthusiastic as he went rigid for a second. After that he melted and started kissing me, getting himself propped up on his hands and knees. He pushed a knee between my legs to keep from crushing me.

He licked my bottom lip, wanting entrance, and I would've happily given him free roam of it, but Hunter's face flashed in my mind. I felt sick, and gently pushed Sasha off. He looked like he was in a frenzy, and I could feel him getting a little hard against my leg. His eyes were the brightest blue I had ever seen, and it was starting to creep me out.

I could actually evoke these feelings in someone, or at least someone who was drunk.

I was working my way up to actually feeling beautiful, damn you!

I patted his chest awkwardly, kind of telling him he could wait until Sasha Jr. calmed down, then he'd have to get off.

"Boy howdy!" Darcie squealed, giggling. "That was hot!"

You're telling me.

He finally sat up, and we just sort of ditched the game in favor of movies and more alcohol. I guess we all just sort of agreed on not letting that happen again.

***

I licked my lips, and they were brutally chapped. My head throbbed quietly, and I knew it was just going to worsen. Squinting my eyes, I mentally hissed at the sun for coming out. I rolled over in my bed, trying to find my god damned clock and see what time it was. If I got up too late Dad would nag me all day long.

I was greeted something that was incased in black jeans. I blinked slightly, contemplating what it was. Then I figured it out.

"Nick, you retard!" I shouted, smacking his ass then kicking it, thanks to my awesome dexterity. He yelped, and jumped out of my way. I groaned, and fell back onto my bed. I was in hangover hell, and, uh...what was that on my southern region?

I looked down, nearly convulsing. Okay, I liked him, but that gave him no excuse to be sleeping very contentedly on my personal area. Yes, Sasha had his face firmly planted between my legs. Bewildered, I sat up, and punched the back of his head. He squealed too, jumping away from me like an abused puppy. I groaned, and fell back on the bed.

I knew I should've just stayed in bed today.