Chapter Five

Leah's 18th Birthday.

The hot August sun licked my skin with a trail of fiery kisses. Even the sunscreen that I had smothered all over me felt as if I'd just basted myself in cooking oil.

"This feels so good." I lay basking in the heat next to Hannah.

The two of us were sprawled out, sunbathing down at the harbor. Eli couldn't make it today, as per usual. He had to go help out his father. I can't say that I wasn't disappointed.

"Who needs a tropical Island, when you can just stay here and get butchered by mosquitoes," Hannah breathed, with sarcasm.

"Shh! We're supposed to be relaxing," I muttered, lazily.

We had been slow-roasting here for just under an hour on sun loungers that we hired for five dollars each. This was my idea of fun, although, it wasn't Hannah's.

"I'm burned to a crisp, I hope you realize," Hannah grumbled.

"Well, it's my birthday, and that means you have to do everything that I say." I reached over and poked her in the ribs.

"You wanna try to sneak into Club Luna, tonight? That's my idea of fun," she suggested.

I could feel her eyes burning into the side of my face, never mind the sun.

"We'd never get in," I mumbled, half-assed.

Some of the girls in our year had gotten in there, but they could pass for looking older. It probably helped that they were dolled up to the eyeballs with makeup. I had tried to make myself look older before, but I only succeeded in looking like a twelve-year-old who had raided her mother's closet.

"I'll do your make up you'll so look twenty-one, " Hannah pleaded. 

"C'mon it'll be fun, I'll stay at your place since you live alone. I'll just tell my mom that we're gonna watch movies," her voice got super excited at the end.

Despite my hesitant attitude, I really did wanted to go. But I was scared about being refused entry at the door. What if we did get in and the place got raided? I didn't want to get arrested for underage drinking. There was no way we could pull this off without being recognized.

"Come on... Please." Hannah's eyes creased as she pleaded.

A part of me wanted to be reckless for once. I'd been through a lot, and it's not as if I had any parents to disappoint.

You only lived once right?

"Alright, let's do it." I grinned back.

***

"Make sure you rub it in around your neck. You don't wanna look like your wearing a mask," Hannah blended the foundation around my neck.

"How are you wearing your hair?" I asked eyeing up her blonde, wavy curls.

"I'm leaving it down and so should you. It'll make you look older," she said as she sprayed hairspray through her hair, setting it into place.

I grabbed the hair straightener and used it to smooth down my chestnut-brown hair until it was poker-straight.

We were almost done getting ready. It took me two hours from start to finish, which was already a new record. I hardly recognized myself in the mirror. My hair fell silky-smooth, down my back. The makeup Hannah applied to me, really did make me look older, giving me a sexy-sultry look. My tight-fitted dress was bold red. The deep-plunging neckline enhanced my cleavage. I felt daring wearing this dress. The diamantes around the bodice, glittered as they captured the light. The matching peep-toe stilettos gave me the added benefit of height, making my legs appear longer, and more toned. I knew I'd regret wearing these shoes by the end of the night, and would probably end up carrying them.

"Gosh, we finished a whole bottle of wine in just under half an hour. I'm impressed," Hannah voiced, raised her eyebrows at me.

"It's you, you're a bad influence." I winked at her reflection in the mirror.

She'd swiped the wine from her mom's stash, earlier in the day. It was a wonder she hadn't shown up here, to get it back. We booked a cab to bring us to the club. I was feeling overconfident thanks to the wine. The feeling of butterflies fluttering in my stomach set me on edge, due to a mixture of excitement and nerves.

Hannah paid the driver and we stepped out onto the busy street. There were hoards of people queuing up outside the club. I walked straight through a cloud of cigarette smoke and gagged.

"That's the only downside to places like these," Hannah grumbled. "At least they have a no smoking policy, inside."

As the length of the line shortened, I kept searching ahead to the front. My heart was going ten to the dozen as we approached security. One of them eyed me carefully as we got closer. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. Over six feet tall, with a wide, muscular build. He was handsome looking, with dark brown hair, a dusting of stubble, tanned skin and almost black/brown eyes.

Upon the first glance, I thought he reminded me of a younger version of my dad. I was looking way too hard for any sign of my brother, and I was starting to question every similarly aged guy that I came across. Whoever this guy was, he would be well known through working in the only nightclub in the town. If he really was Jace, then someone would've told me, surely.

His intimidating glare raked over Hannah and me with suspicion. His eyes narrowed on me as if he could see straight through my act.

"We're not gonna get in." I turned and whispered to Hannah.

"Act naturally," she hissed. "If you keep acting suspiciously, we won't get in."

"But he keeps looking at us," I argued, keeping my voice down low. "He's gonna stop me, I know he is."

Hannah flicked her eyes up and down. "I doubt it."

"Let's just turn around now and go someplace else," I begged, not wanting to be humiliated.

Hannah nudged me forward. "The queue's moving."

My heart gave a jolt of fear, turning to the front and downcast my eyes in an attempt to walk past unhindered. I saw him breathe in deeply through his nose as he watched me. An amused look formed across his face. He gestured for us to go inside, and as I hurried past, he grabbed the top of my arm and leaned into me.

"Be good because I'm watching you!" He breathed against my ear in a warning tone.

My eyes bulged and my heart practically jumped up and lodged in my throat. I gulped and looked to Hannah who also recoiled with shock.

The way he spoke to me wasn't in a creepy, flirty way. It seemed to me like he was being protective. I nodded my head and a squeaky, "OK," came out of my mouth.

I literally felt like I was going to go into cardiac arrest there and then.

"Shesh! That was close," Hannah muttered, as we ventured into the main part of the club.

The beat from the loud music vibrated in my eardrums. It was a Calvin Harris dance tune. We could barely make out what each other was saying. It was like trying to hold a conversation through a ten-inch thick, pane of glass.

We scoured the bar, looking to see what choice there was. I hadn't even heard of half of the spirits. There was a list on the wall naming different flavored shots. We thought it would be cool to try a few, so we tried some of the pleasant-sounding ones first.

Hannah passed me a shot glass, filled with red liquid. I brought it to my nose and sniffed the contents. It smelled strange. I dipped my tongue inside, only to screw my face up with revulsion.

"Knock it back," Hannah advised, showing me how it was done.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she swallowed, then her face contorted into a grimace as she shuddered. I followed suit, downing it in one gulp.

"Fuck!" I winced, as it burned a river of fire down my throat.

"Let's have another," Hannah shouted over the music.

"How much are these?" I inquired.

"Boo, don't be such a party pooper," Hannah grumbled.

I crossed my arms. "I'm not. I only brought fifty dollars with me."

Hannah placed her hand on her hip, slumping to one side. "You gotta promise that you won't freak out." She raised her brows, making lines appear across her forehead.

I exhaled forcefully. "Uh-oh, what now?" I asked, bracing myself for the blow.

"We've got free drinks on the house." She cringed, bearing her teeth.

For a few seconds, I just stood there staring blankly back at her. Then I don't know if it was the alcohol or the fact that I was actually enjoying myself, but an ecstatic smile flashed across my lips.

"The fuck are we doing standing here for then? Let's get smashed," I cheered.

This time, it was me pulling Hannah towards the bar.

"What's a Jagerbomb?" I focused hard on reading the drinks list.

As I leaned over the bar, I must've given the hunky bartender, a sneaky view of my cleavage. I caught him looking and smirked.

"Enjoying the view?" I flirted a little.

If I was stone-cold sober, I would've stalked away, horrified. But the alcohol was flowing nicely, and it was causing all of my inhibitions to float away along with my better judgment. He actually flirted back with us, but we knew that was all part of his job, so it didn't really count.

"Well, you see gorgeous..." His forward body language sent Hannah and me into a fit of giggles. "It's a shot of Jägermeister dropped into a glass of red bull, then you down it in one."

The sober me had well and truly dropped the mic and walked the fuck out.

Who was this person that had taken over my body? I wasn't confident like this. I certainly didn't twerk in public. What the actual fuck?

Mr sexy, walked back and forth mixing our drinks. Hannah reached over and grabbed two long, cocktail sticks that had tinsel on the end. We each tucked one behind our ears like a sparkly flower. Then, we spent the next twenty minutes sipping our, 'longer drinks' before staggering over to the dancefloor. The tempo of the music changed again, this time with an Usher song.

"I love this song," I slurred.

When you're drunk, your confidence takes you to a place where you think you can dance like Usher and sing like Gaga. When in actual fact, you're a safety hazard who sounds like a cat being strangled. It's funny how the number of shots you drink, can increase the attractiveness of people too. Eventually, even the ugliest guys start to look like, Channing Tatum. With me, it made me sociable. I suddenly wanted to make friends with everyone. Telling people that I just met, five minutes ago, that I loved them, and that they were my new best friend. One minute the two of us ventured into the bathroom, then after an hour later, we returned with an army of newfound sisters.

Our night couldn't have gone any better. We were like two-party girls unleashed. We even danced with a group of guys, too. There was no funny business though, which was a pity. Hannah exploded with laughter as I slapped some random guys ass, then blamed it on someone else as he turned around. It was funny how things like that suddenly became entertaining. Not that I would ever dream of doing that any other time. Like, at the supermarket checkout or while waiting at a cash point.

We wobbled back to the bar and ordered a bottle of champagne to share between us. We all took it in turns, chugging it straight from the bottle. Then wobbled back over to the dancefloor when the Grease mega mix came on. A cheesy hour had officially started. Footloose was up next, followed by more classic eighties, cheesy hits. We got lost in nostalgia. Singing along to the songs that our parents used to play to us when we were little.

Hannah went crazy when they played, Hungry like the Wolf, by Duran Duran. I honest to God doubled over with laughter.

Have you ever felt a pair of eyes staring at you from somewhere in the room? That feeling of being watched like a hawk. Something inside me sensed it. My eyes landed straight in the direction of where a man was standing. He was leaning against the wall in the darkest area of the club. I couldn't see his face because he was camouflaged beneath the shadows, but I knew he was watching me intensely. I could feel the power and authority radiating off him. The position of his body was angled to face me. I squinted like a mole breaking through into daylight. Then shot him the dirtiest look ever, raising my hand to give him the middle finger. The way it looked to me, was like he was loitering with intent.

"I need to take a break." I tapped Hannah on the shoulder, then pointed to the seating area. "My shoes are crippling me," I complained.

She nodded then followed me, also glad of the rest. We slumped down onto the empty chairs to take the pressure off our feet.

"Did you see that guy, standing over there?" I pointed directly over to where he was standing.

Another thing about alcohol: all subtlety goes out of the window. My confidence levels had soared to astral heights. In my head, I could fight the world. At that moment in time, I felt strong enough to take on Mike Tyson and win. The alcohol running through my veins had fuelled me with enough false confidence that I could've powered a rocket to the moon.

Hannah's drunken gaze followed the direction of my finger. She then did a double-take. It took a couple of seconds for, whatever it was, to register before her face paled.

"Leah, we should go," she muttered, timidly.

"Why? Are you OK?" I asked, with concern.

I noticed the color drain from her face and thought that maybe she felt sick or something.

She shook her head. "I don't feel too good, let's just go home," she pleaded, her eyes widening with terror.

"C'mon then, let's go," I rubbed her back and held her purse, thinking she was unwell.

We had to walk past the lurking letch in the shadows, to get out. In my drunken haze, I couldn't make out anything but a blurred figure. He remained glued to the shadows, but I could feel his gaze following me. I rolled my eyes. He probably thought that he'd picked a great spot to spy on women. Unlucky for him, I was drunk out of my mind. So, I thought it was a good idea to shout abuse at him.

"You," I turned to him with a snarl. "Yeah, you." I pointed, after watching his posture stiffen. "Why don't you take a picture. It'll last longer, pervert!" I slurred, just as the music stopped.

Hannah whimpered as the sound of my voice traveled. The air in the room was already hot and humid but the intense atmosphere seemed to swallow all the oxygen. Everybody seemed to suck in a breath and hold it in.

I chuckled to myself as I staggered past on unsteady legs. He didn't answer but that didn't stop me from pursuing it further.

"That's what I thought," I slurred, swaying unsteadily.

Hannah tried to take me by the hand, but I managed to pull away.

"What?" I flapped my arms in a feeble attempt to shrug. "He started it." I pointed at the shadow lurker, who at this point, I thought must've been a deaf-mute.

"Here, let me help." Hannah offered me her hand.

My rapid arm movements caused me to wobble on my heels and Hannah reached out to steady me. For some reason, she seemed rather sober at this point.

"Hannah, I can walk myself," I refused help. "I'm not even a tiny bit drunk." I placed my hand out to brace myself against the wall, using it for support. "It's these shoes, making me walk all funny."

"Pass me your purse." Hannah offered.

I held up one finger to shush her. "Act natural," I hushed in what I assumed was a low voice. "The doorman will think you're drunk."

Another male had approached the shadow creep but instead of calling him out for the pervert he was, I heard him apologizing on behalf of me.

Oh, no, no, no. I don't think so.

"Hey, don't speak for me," I yelled. "I'm not sorry I called him a pervert. I meant it."

Hannah buried her face against our purses she was clutching hold of. "Ugh, please, Leah. Just leave it," she muttered.

"No, I want to speak to the manager," I slurred. "This is sexy!" I yelled, meaning sexist, but not quite spitting out the rest of the word.

"Leah. Let's. Go." Hannah's last string of patience had snapped, speaking to me through gritted teeth.

"You're both, Jerks!" I yelled, sliding against the wall, en-route to the door.

It was a task to place one foot in front of the other. My legs appeared to have stopped working properly, causing my heels to scrape along the floor. Then, just like a baby, taking its first few steps, I wobbled towards the doors with my arms outstretched. 

I hit the front of my shoe on the seam of the rubber doormat, with a thud. I turned, glancing down to yell profanities at it.

"What a stupid, fucking place to put a fucking rug," the words sloshed out of my mouth in slow motion.

But in my head though. In 'MY' head. I was gliding as gracefully as Cara Delevingne on a catwalk.

Hannah looked floored. It usually takes a lot to shock her, believe me. She more or less dragged me out through the door.

"Are you completely insane??" Hannah flung her hands up in the air as she yelled at me.

"So, I gave those guys a piece of my mind, big deal." I placed my hand where I thought the street light was and almost fell sideways.

Hannah managed to grab me before I hit the deck.

"Urgh, you're so drunk, Leah," she fumed.

"So were you," I argued.

She ran her fingers through her hair and licked her lips anxiously.

"Yeah, well, I had a wake-up call." She frowned.

"Ah," I swatted the air. "Potato, potahto," I slurred.

As soon as the fresh air hit me, everything worsened. To the point where I couldn't even see straight, let alone stand. I was so shit faced, the doorman had to carry me to the taxi cab.

"I need to go to the pizza and order a bathroom," I told him, thinking that it all made sense.

My garbled speech made perfect sense to me. The incoherent conversation we had as he carried me bridal style, was one of the most insightful conversations I ever had. It was such a pity that it was all one-sided.

He placed me down on the back seat, where I lay spread-eagled like a hot mess.

Who knows whether or not I dreamed this, but security guy and Hannah started to have a full-blown argument.

"I trusted you to look after her. Not to let her get blind drunk." He jabbed his finger at Hannah.

"What do you expect, when nobody will charge her for anything?" She flung her hands up in the air, yelling back at him. "It's her fucking birthday, cut her some fucking slack."

"He came!" The security guy growled. "As soon as he found out she was here. You know how volatile he is."

Hannah huffed, slackening her posture.

"I know, I know. It was my fault. It won't happen again." Her tone was remorseful.

"See that it doesn't," he seethed, backing away. "Because the last thing we need, is for him to do something irrational."

"Sorry, Beta. It won't happen again." Hannah climbed inside the cab and closed over the door.

"Hey, you OK?" I mumbled, in a semi-comatose state.

Hannah turned her gaze from the window, down to were I lay slumped.

"Yeah." She managed a strained smile. "Happy birthday, Leah."