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Chapter 4

The rest of the drive, both I and Shelly remained silent, neither of us speaking a word or expressing our feelings, pretending to listen to the rap song playing on the car's radio.

Shelly Courtney's house was at the very outskirt of town. It was back then, the only house that was at the town's outskirt at the very end of the bus route. It was set back from the street, always hidden completely by thick evergreens, with sharp points of its Tudor roof poking out above the peaks of the green. At least that was what it always looked like in the day, when the evergreens weren't looking like giant, spooky shadow clouds obstructing the sky. Shelly continued to drive down the long, shady road connecting the main road to her house. As soon as we stepped under the shades of the dark trees, I felt as if entering another world, and naturally, my defenses went up. 

After a bend  in the wooded road, I could finally see the house emerge ahead of us. Unlike on my own street — the street lights were on to guide us. The tall iron estates of the Courtney's estate was wide open and a cluster of four festive silver helium balloons floated over the gate, secured to them with long white ribbons. It was indeed a huge welcome back to school pool party and the party was already in full swing even though the host was unavailable.

Cars filled the Courtney's estate and kids my age and older filed in between these cars with red cups in their hands and littering the floor. I could see smoke spiraling into the air at each gathering I looked. Most people cuddled and made out while leaning on cars bonnet while other just discussed in groups — not everyone was in swim suits. I expected to see most people in their swim suits but I and everyone knew the Courtney's pool, which was way at the back of the house — would never fit everyone at the party. I was sure Shelly made a list of people worthy or not worthy to be inside the pool. Shelly slowly drive inside to find a parking space that was probably reserved for her. 

"Shit! This is shit," she muttered. She was skeptically eyeing the bloodstain on the window of my side of the car, looking troubled. "Now, I have to clean that up before anyone sees."

I nibbled on my lower lip, and remained silent. It couldn't be hard work to just wipe off the blood off the window — unless it dried. The road gave way to gravel, and turned in a circular drive wrapped around a grand fountain in front of the house and immediately Shelly found a spot, I hopped out of the car after announcing that I was going to find our other friends while she dealt with the blood stain. Shelly seemed reluctant about I leaving her to do it all alone, but she didn't object. She just waved it off like it didn't matter.

"Thanks," I told her.

"Lisa—?" Shelly seemed very desperate, her hands were clutching the steering wheel too tight her knuckles began to show white. I waited by the door for her to speak. "About the cat. . .can you uhm — keep this between us and tell no one?"

I shrugged my bony shoulders subtly and kept a straight face. "What do you mean? It's not your fault. Not mine either. It just happened. For whatever reason that man had gunned the cat down instead of helping us. We're not criminals. We didn't murder a person."

Shelly breath a sigh of relief and leaned her head against the chair, lashes blinking rapidly. "Thank you. You know I felt so guilty. Let's just — never talk about it again."

"Sure — Elly."

With my backpack limply hanging down my shoulders, I proceeded to the front of the house. White cement steps led to the home's front door, and the house was three stories high, with elaborate lattice-work over the windows. I felt I enjoyed viewing the house when it was less crowded than over crowded. At both sides of the front door where fluffy granium grew in huge ceramic flower pots — boys smoking and puffing tobacco like chimneys looked in my direction and gawked like idiots. If it was any other day that I wasn't feeling so anti-social and down, I might have blushed, because those boys were on the school's football team and the quarterback had most of his attention on me.

Inside, I glided between clustered teens dancing on wobbly legs while drinking, whooping and cheering to the terribly loud music. Doja Cat's rap song pounded and reverberated through the whole house and it took all the resistance in me not to start grooving to the music. But never the less — my music instincts triggered — and my feet twitched inside my flat shoes. There was no turning off the extremely loud, pounding music. 

So, I didn't.

But my nose was scrunched up because of the nauseating smell of cigarettes, tobacco and the stench from sweaty teens who hadn't learned the use of deodorants. Even though I wished I could turn out the stench, which was almost similar to that oddly emanating from the cat earlier, I couldn't.

Clutching hard my backpack strap, I headed straight for the make shift counter which was originally the kitchen, head hanging low while I mindlessly chewed on my lower lip and tried my absolute best to avoid bumping into someone — or couples making out. I had a feeling the only place I could find my remaining friends — that had called me endlessly — was either the kitchen, Shelly's room on the second floor or at the pool. After finding them, I knew I'd have to go up to Shelly's room to change into my swim suit and get ready for the pool party. 

I stepped into the kitchen, shoulders-shoving past a group of clustered seniors by the door, chanting and whooping loudly to two girls making out and smoking in perhaps a truth or dare game. Through the dim disco bulbs providing light, I squinted to find my friends close to the Islands. A particular Asian brunette, a chubby black and a very skinny half-caste. I spotted Quinn DeMilo first. Her deep brown curls appeared reddish and baby pink under the disco lights. She was leaned against the Island table which served as a counter, shoulders propped against her and head bobbing along to the music.

A broad smile brutally tore my lips apart. "Quinn!"

I skipped forward. Quinn turned and glanced around skeptically before finally landing her eyes on me. Moments after, I was engulfed and wrapped in her skinny arms with coconut and milk scent.

"Where are the others?!" 

I was talking at the top of my lungs to get Quinn to hear me over the ear-splitting music. Her hands were interwoven into mine as we forced ourselves between the bodies on the dancing floor in order to get across and up the stairs which led to Shelly's room.

"The pool!" Quinn grimaced in inconvenience, side-stepping a staggering guy that went between us, snorting like a pig. "Everyone's there."

Quinn's hip swayed slightly to the music, her head irresistibly bobbing along and she was indirectly urging me to groove along with her. She had on a classy baby blue bikini that showed off her entire asset and showcased her beautiful shape. A pink wet satin scarf was tied against her tiny, taut waist, sticking to her flesh like a second skin. She was barefooted, her fingertips pinkish and wet. Quinn had a heart-shaped face with very wide-set crystal blue eyes. She was mixed blood, with her father being Australian and her mother from South Africa. Her blue eyes — courtesy of her father — looked iridescent because of her full curly brown hair framing her face so intensely. Quinn was almost similar to Shelly, just she wasn't as wild, lavish and intense as Shelly Courtney was. Quinn got emotional so quickly — you'd think she was a mother in her previous life but loosed all her children in a day.

She was always filled with sympathy too, which was one of the reasons I never could mention of our little cat's accident to her. 

Quinn's little, button-like nose scrunched in disagreement as she looked me over. "You're going to change, right?"

The question seemed rhetorical but I knew otherwise. I leaped over a running over bottle of tequila, careful not to get it splashing against my fine jeans and then nodded to Quinn's question. Everything about Quinn DeMilo was a little girlish and romantic. Right from the hair twirling thing she did with her brown curls everytime she got distracted to the nibbling on her lower lip when she got scared. One thing that amused me most about Quinn was the fact that she never needed to do than enter a room to grab all the dude's attention and she just never knew she did that. 

"Girl. I'll meet you upstairs," Quinn fell steps behind me, looking reluctant. "I was. . .uhm, about to get some drinks for the girls when I saw you."

I nodded suspiciously. "Cool."

Quinn grinned childishly, backpadeling while rocking her hips to the beat of the music. "You should get changed!" She hollered, two fingers pointing at me before she threw her hands up and whooped in giddy excitement. 

From the spot I stood and watched her, I could also spot more than ten pairs of eyes following her every movements. Males and females alike, seemingly amused by the beauty of the half-caste girl. I turned and continued across the room to get to the stairs leading up to Shelly's room, whom from a distance I could sight, already getting along with some group of friends like nothing had happened only a few minutes ago.

I knew the approximate layout of the Courtney's house from having to play there since we were little kids. Shoving past people, I walked down the hallway toward the front of the house, to ascend the stairs leading to the house's second floor. Shelly's princess-like room was on the right at the top of the stairs. On the door was a big gothic-looking Do not come in!. And underneath it, faded but still slightly obvious was another colorful sign ageing back from the time we were six years old cute chipmunks with two missing front teeth which we had loosed days apart from each other's. 

If you looked closely. I mean, by straining your eyes; a big, faded, princess-like Welcome sign was obvious underneath her new gothic one which just showcased the difference and significance of happenings and event effects between six-year-old childish Shelly and Sixteen-year-old Gothic–wannabe Shelly even though she was nothing close to that. I could vividly remember the two occasions in which she'd put up the two signs and the reasons leading to them in which those events had produced a completely different person from what she used to be. I realized, there's this thin line between childhood and beginning of adulthood, young adult and any child could snap into becoming that adult to watch out and protect themselves once some cruel event leads them to it. 

That event for Shelly was her mother's death due to Cancer when she was ten. What led her into accepting adulthood was her father marriage to her step mother when she was age thirteen.

So engrossed in staring at the two stickers on Shelly's door and deriving meaning to it, I was more than startled when the door peeled open and a tall figure emerged from it and collided into me, body reeking of excessive, toxic tobacco. I looked up, brows puckered. Lo and behold; Andrew Penna stood in front of me, towering me with his incredible height and intimidating me with his athletic stature. He was carrying a plastic red cup in his hand in his left hand, presumably on his way down to the kitchen to get a refill of whatever cheap beer he'd been drinking.

"Hey," Andrew said, smiling down at me.

"Hi," I replied, stepping back.

Andrew Penna was shirtless, the only piece of clothing on his body was a black swim trunk, hanging dangerously low from his waistline. His naked upper body had my head reeling. I spaced out — drinking him in — his body was so contoured, his arms, his protuberants biceps. I didn't know where to focus on, his broad shoulders, his pecs, his defined abdominal muscles; I was desperate to know what was beneath his trails of six packs, his entire skin was glistening with beads of water and his deep brown hair was damp and sticking to his face, little line of hair were visible up close, settling just beneath his plump red lips, a beautiful tatoo of something that looked like a furious scorpion was drawn on his broad chest, looking so attracting and hot; I gulped, eyes wide as I continued to stare at him.

"So uhm. . .your friend, Shelly. She  told me I could change and take my bath in her room," Andrew explained. "To get ready for the pool party."

"Cool," I unintentionally squealed out, eyes huge and round.

I blinked rapidly and cleared my throat, trying almost in vain to tear my eyes off his chest. Andrew staggered forward and I side-stepped him, super concious when his wet right shoulder touched the cotton fabric of my shirt. Heart pounding and core tingling, I continued to watch him as he stylishly staggered toward the steps, head bobbing and shoulder muscles flexing. I almost thought of it as a coincidence of us meeting under such simple circumstance, until, I saw the figures of my best friends closely watching from the shadows of the stairwell, cramped together like tiny sardine fishes in a can.

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