Chapter One
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“10!!.... 9!!..... 8!! ….. 7!!.....6!!......5!!......4!!......3!!......2!!......1!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!”
The lights start dancing from every direction, the energy matching that of the room full of reckless teenagers.
“They all seem so happy,” I say, referencing my friends.
“You say that like it's a bad thing!” Lillian yelled over the booming music.
“Is this not freaky to you!?”
“What!? Common, don't just stand there! Dance! Or get a drink!” Lillian shouted, winking and waving her blue cup.
“Whatever.” I squeeze through the crowd, feeling every bit of contact rub against my jean jacket. I wish I'd left it at home. I can already imagine myself getting puked on by Lillian and then her guilt-tripping me into taking her home.
I finally reached the table filled with blue cups. “What's in this?” I asked the guy behind the table. He mumbled yes, his gaze not leaving his phone. “Come on dude this is a freaking New Year's Party. Put the phone away.
“Yep. Got it.” Still nothing. “Seriously?” I scoff (as if that would make him change from the obvious jerk he is) as I grab a blue cup and peer into it.
“Aren't those supposed to be red?” I subtly look over towards the voice, not sure if it was directed at me. When my eyes meet the eyes of a curious-looking girl mirroring my exact position, I feel my shoulders relax.
“What?” I say, not sure of what to say at all.
“The cups. In all the movies whenever there's illegal alcohol, they have it in red cups. I've never even seen blue plastic cups like these.” I smile.
“No yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean. They’re supposed to be red. Why aren't they red?” I exhale louder than I meant to and suddenly I feel too weak to hold the cup. I practically slam it down onto the table, a splash of strong-smelling liquid getting onto the bottom half of my sleeve, instantly turning it a brownish back color.
“Jeez dude, watch where you're sloshing there. Here.” She comes closer, producing a handkerchief. I stare at it, not sure what to do. Who carries a handkerchief anymore?
“Ok…” She starts patting the spot, and I watch as her white handkerchief slowly starts to match my jacket. “This isn't working well. Hopefully, this jacket wasn't too important to ya. Let's get you to the bathroom and clean you up.”
She grabs my non-stained sleeve and I follow mindlessly as she winds me through groups of people. It seems like we’re going in circles, teenagers laughing, drinking, it's all too much. I slip my hand away and turn around, everything feeling too close. I quickly scan the room, trying to spot an exit of any kind. I spot a few people standing in a doorway that seems to lead to a deck of some sort. That’d be nice. If only I could get there-
“Hey! What are you doing? Do you want to try to save your Jacket or not?” I’m suddenly spun to face the handkerchief girl again, only this time she doesn't seem as curious, more demanding.
“Sorry I-” “It’s fine just stick with me. It's a big house and the bathroom is booked if you know what I mean so we’re gonna have to go to an off-limits one. Hurry up, come on.” She doesn't grab onto me this time, she instead steps behind me, grabs my shoulders, and pushes me to walk. We wind through the party like this until we’ve reached a spiral staircase. 202Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIb3qIIB67K
The music here is faded, and the lights are dim. I feel like I can breathe. “It's just up here. Quickly guy! You are so slow, really.” She scoots in front of me and I have to run to keep up with her. Once we reach the top of the staircase I’m slightly out of breath, but lucky for me, I look up to see a handkerchief girl standing with a door open in front of me. “Come on in.” I walk through the door to find an un-surprisingly nice bathroom. “Ok. Take it off.” I looked at her for a bit too long before pulling off my jacket carefully. I tried not to notice her locking the door as I did so.
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“Ok. Let's see..” I watch as she bends down and opens the cabinets under the sink. “Aha! Stain remover. This stuff should work.” She pops up and I smile, but look down at my shoes when she smiles back. “Ok, let’s see, use the product on soaked material, then rinse after use. Ha! Simple.” She turns on the faucet and I watch as she gently soaks the bottom half of my sleeve. I watch the steam rise up, in a trance of watching her hands move against the fabric.
“Ok… now we apply a good little drop…” She pulls my jacket away from the water, squeezing a glob of something white and foamy, resembling shaving cream. “Whoops. That's a bit of a lot.”
She grins nervously and I nod, not trying to show that I'm worried she is going to ruin my Jean Jacket. “Now we rinse?” She puts the sleeve back under the faucet, this time, as her hands move, the brown has been replaced with a faded blue, almost white color, which compared to the dark blue of the rest of the sleeve, looks like it has been bleached.
“Aw shit.” I'm sorry. I must've used too much?” She continues to wash, more violently, as if some pressure would take away the fade. I grab the bottle off the counter and skim over the entirety of the bottle. My eyes stop on some red words that read, FADING MAY OCCUR IF USED WITH WARM WATER. RINSE WITH COOL WATER FOR THE BEST EFFECT.
“You needed to use cold water.”
“What?” She looks over at me, seeming to be confused.
“You-” I lunged forward, grabbing the handle and pushing it to as cold as it could be. I snatch my jacket from her and start rinsing it the right way.
“Just, use cold water,” I say, my heart racing as fast as my hands as I repeat these words not only to her but to myself. She stands there silent, her hands dripping onto the tile floor. We stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity. When I allowed myself to realize it was too late to save it, I pushed the faucet off and began to wring out the water.
“I'm sorry I ruined your jacket.” Her voice was soft and uneven.
“Sorry I was so chaotic. I just really like this jacket.” Once I've wrung out all the water, I observe the sleeve more closely. It's not too bad. There hasn't been any real damage, just discoloring. The jacket itself hasn't changed.
“Did it belong to someone special to you?”
“What” I gripped the jacket tighter.
“I just… I have a pair of socks that my brother gave me. They're pretty special. I'd freak out if some stranger at a party ruined them.” She offers a light-hearted smile, but I don't accept it.
“It's none of your business. And I didn't freak out. I had a totally reasonable and understandable reaction.”
“Ok.” She takes a deep breath. “I think you should go. We. We should go. Back downstairs. We’re not supposed to be up here anyway.” She steps toward the door, but before she can unlock it a few knocks greet her. “Shit.” She says under her breath.
“Cassy? Cass? Are you in there?” A muffled, angry voice shouts through the door.
“Who’s that-”
“Shh!” She says. “Go. Get in the shower.”
“What?”
“Shh! Just go. Go!” Her whisper yells give me chills, and I'm suddenly afraid of the voice behind the door. I turn around and pull back the shower curtain just enough to step into the shower. I pull it closed and wait.
I look around me to see bottles of shampoo, conditioner, god knows what products. I listen as a clicking sound is followed by a bang of a door as if someone’s flung it open.
“Cassady? What the hell is going on? You say you’re getting drinks and then I find out you've been sneaking upstairs with some other guy?”
“What!?”
“You were taking a little too long so I came downstairs looking for you. I couldn't find you so I asked around, and Micheal Boxx said he saw you sneaking off upstairs, holding hands with some dude in a jean jacket.” I hear a scoff, coming from who I suppose is Cassady.
“Well, Micheal Boxx clearly doesn't know what he’s talking about.” Cassady sounded calm, her voice sounding sure and unfazed. “Come on babe. I wouldn't lie to you, would I?” I can immediately identify a shift of tone. Her voice sounded, seductive. I try to stifle my breath, afraid whoever ‘babe’ is will hear me.
“I hope not. You wouldn't try that would you?” Now his tone has matched hers. I tremble as I hear the door shut and lock, before hearing a thump.
“Ben, not now.”
“Shhh.”
“Ben!” I hear another thump. What is going on out there? I fight the temptation to peek through the curtain, not willing to take any risk, no matter how great my curiosity is.
“What's your deal!? You're so freaking misleading! You’re, you’re giving me so many mixed signals why the hell… why!?”
“Ben, I know I'm sorry! Ugh, I'm sorry.”
“What's going on? Talk to me Cassy, please!”
“I don't know! I... I don't know!”
“What were you doing in here Cassy!? Huh? You'd never lie to me Cassy, so what were you doing in the bathroom damn it!”
“I'm on my period ok!” The room goes silent, and still. I hold my breath, the silence so loud I fear you could tell the difference between two heartbeats and three.
“Shit. Really?” There’s a long pause.
“Yeah. You wanted to know, and you’ve accused me, and yelled at me all night, so there's your answer. Happy?” Another long pause. “Just get out, Ben.” The door unlocks before shutting and locking again. I don't move, afraid that it's all a trick, a plan to get me jumped by a guy who not only sounds bigger than me but is clearly also angrier. Suddenly the curtain yanks open, and I jump.
“Oh my god, you scared me.” As I look into her eyes, I see a glossy layer has filled them, but not a single tear falls. “Are you ok?”
“Oh shut up you were yelling at me too.” She sits on the toilet seat, her hands on her knees, her mind clearly racing.
“Are you ok?” I repeat. I wait for a while but she doesn’t look up at me. “I'm sorry, ok? I just… you’re right. This Jacket did belong to someone special.”
She looked up at me, surprised that I'd opened up. “What?” I laugh, trying to deflect her attention. She smiles too, relaxing a bit. I crouch down to the floor and lean against the wall. Taking a deep breath, I take a huge leap I wasn't planning to take today.
“When I was twelve my dad decided he needed a change in his life. As every divorced man eventually does. I spent most of my time with my mom anyway, but when he told me he wanted to go back to the military, well I couldn't imagine not seeing him every Saturday. I tried to make him stay, but he claimed I was the only thing here for him, that he wanted to protect me how he still could, some save-the-world, hero-type shit. I don't know why he really did it. Maybe he had a death wish. All I know is he left, left behind a jean jacket in one of his three boxes, and I haven't seen him since. I've held onto this thing for four years, and until now, I've kept it in perfect shape. I mean, I haven't really grown into it, he was a big, muscly dude. Totally suited for fighting or whatever. I don't know. I guess it's just a happy memory. Now a slightly bleached, happy memory?”
“Wow.” I looked up to meet her eyes, not realizing I had been staring at the floor. “Sorry. That sucks.” I grin.
“It does suck, doesn't it?”
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