Charming's Star

By @L-R-Battista
Charming's Star

This is the story of Delilah Letters, a nineteen-year-old college student. She aspires to be a screenwriter or director and dive into her imaginary worlds. However, life has other plans. After all, nothing really goes as planned. This is a short story right now, but it might become a long story. I know the description is vague but give it a chance. Hope you enjoy, L-R-Battista Side Note: I do not own the cover, it belongs to its rightful owner whom, I thank for creating such beautiful art.

Chapter 8

Out of It

The door suddenly banged open and I looked up and there were Sara and Becca, hanging off Dereck’s neck. I scowled, they were already out of it. Probably drunk I assumed.

     “Lia!” Sara slurred, lurching towards me, almost falling flat on her face, luckily Dereck is sober.

     “How are you guys already drunk?” I asked, placing my book on the couch.

     “Not drunk, We’re high.” Sara giggled.

    I glared and turned to Dereck; “How the Hell are they HIGH?”

    Dereck sighed dejectedly “I invited them to a festival at school and someone was sellin weed. I went to go get some food and Sara decided it would be a good time to try weed.”

     Sara and Becca then giggled almost toppling over air and started spurting nonsense.

     “Why did you take them here? Are you an idiot?” I asked Dereck, crossing my arms.

     Dereck shrugged “They both wanted to come. So, I obliged.”

     “Take them home. Drugs and Alcohol do not mix.” I demanded.

     “NO! We wanna partayyyyyyy!!!” Becca slurred, stumbling over her silver heels.

     I ignored them and said to Dereck; “Take them home.”

     “Alright. But can you help me get them back in the car?” he asked.

    “Sure. Let’s just get moving before the party is in full swing.” I replied.

    I opened the screen door and grabbed a hold of Becca while Dereck took Sara and we drag-walked them back to his red Toyota.

    “I’m sorry,” Dereck whispered, half-way down the hill that was already filled with cars.

    “For what?” I panted, trying to keep Becca from leaning down and trying to eat the grass.

    “I shouldn’t have taken them to the festival. I knew they were supposed to spend the night with you. I should’ve kept an eye on them or invited to you the festival. You always seemed to be the reasonable one in the group.” he muttered.

    “It’s not your fault. You can’t watch over them 24/7. Plus, there are fully functioning adults, they should’ve known better. And don’t worry about not inviting me. I was busy cooking for my brother’s party anyway.” I replied, sending him a weak smile.

   “Oh yeah. Darn. I’m gonna miss your homemade cooking too” he whined, halting to a stop because Sara started to throw up.

    “I promise to have the gang over again and cook again. Don’t worry about it.”

    “You don’t have to do that.” he countered but I held up a free hand to stop him.

   “Yes, I do. And you guys own me anyway for getting completely wasted.”

    Dereck smirked at that and replied; “I guess you have a point.”

   We reached his car and lifted Sara into the passenger seat while I placed Becca in the back.

  “No! I wanna meet hot lacrosse players!” Becca protested, pushing against me.

  “I wanna part-tay!” Sara slurred, her head lolling against the seat.

“Well, not tonight,” I said, pushing Becca flat on her back into the seat.

 “It’s not fair!!!!! I want a hot lax player!” Becca whined

 “I already have one.” Sara giggled and Dereck blushed. I swear, I melted inside. They were so cute, even when Sara was completely off her rocker.

  “I don’t,” Becca muttered, actual tears in her eyes.

   “Someday, you will. Maybe even next weekend.” I reassured, trying to hide the sadness reflected in my eyes.

Becca rolled her eyes but finally gave up, laying across the seat.

I closed the door and turned to Dereck.

“Do you need Becca’s address?” I asked, knowing he already knew Sara’s.

“No. Becca staying over Sara’s.”

 “Oh,” I mumbled, guess I’m chop liver.

 “I think you were supposed to come after the party as well,” Dereck added, a small slither of pity in his smile.

  “It’s fine. I’m not offended. Just take them home and make sure they don’t kill themselves.”

   “Will do. See ya, Lia.” He called, hopping into the driver’s seat and starting the car, the engine grumbling to life.

He waved from the window, with Sara and Becca out cold on the black leather seats. I watched him back slowly down the hill while a row of expensive BMW’s and Mercedes’s honked at him, obviously here for the party. I laughed at their impatience, and I guess Dereck must’ve seen the humor of it too and decided to make his car crawl out of the driveway.

I mean, what’s the rush? To get unreasonably drunk and hook up with someone you’ll regret in the morning? Doesn’t sound like something I would rush into but here these people were, lining their fancy cars: girls wearing skimpy crop-tops and dresses boys dressed in fitted shirts and jeans. It really made me question the sanity of people of my generation, this was considered the “norm” after all, wasn’t it?

The wind was picking up, sending wrinkles of shivers up arms making me cold so I decided it was time to go back. I might as well finish the rest of that book. I trudged back up the hill, mud coating my black flats. Guess I will have to clean them tomorrow, I tell myself and kick them off outside the door. 

All the lights are off now and there are people holding red solo cups, snapping selfies, and making out. I walked into the front room to find a couple in the middle of doing the deed, the guy’s shirt off revealing a skinny freckled chest and the girl’s pink crop top half-way across her black lace bra. Hearing my footsteps, they shot up into sitting positions and glared at me.

    “Sorry,” I muttered, quickly grabbing my book which was on the other couch, thankfully, and exited the room. Gross. I will never look at these couches the same way again.Then, the search for a quiet spot while dodging massive drunks began. Obviously, the hallway and kitchen were off limits but I still went through anyway, grabbing myself some leftover lasagna and a cream puff from the table. I attempted to grab a red solo cup of ginger ale but some super curvy Hispanic chick knocked my cup spilling the liquid over my sweater.

     “Whoops.” She giggled, giving me a crooked grin.

I clenched my fist, ready to sock her, but restrained since nothing good would come of it. Plus, I was holding food.

So, I smiled back and moved around her and another dude who was grinding against her. I had to keep myself from gagging in front of them. Not wanting to find more couples hooking up in the rooms upstairs, I decided to walk to the old wooden swing set, built by the previous owners.

The swing set, with its chipped paint, broken bars, and rusty swings, sat at the bottom of a steep hill that sloped from my house. Close yet far away. A perfect escape for a teenager who longed to finish her reread. Carefully, I inched myself down the hill, my feet squishing in the mud, phone light in hand. I would like to enjoy my book mud-free after all despite my feet already covered in the stuff.

 But, it couldn’t be helped, my shoes left at the doorstep of my entrance. I passed the old miniature windmill, its propellers swishing quietly in the breeze and the moldy picnic tables that appeared to be sinking beneath waves of mud. I never understood why these things were here since no one ever used them but my mom said it had “character.” I just think that they are unnecessarily wasting away at the bottom of a hill that no one ever comes down.

Except me, of course. I reached the plastic slide and walked around to the wooden steps. They were still intact but I wanted to take no chances and so I lifted one foot on the step, testing. Not breaking, I placed the other foot on threw the book and hoisted myself up. The landing wasn’t that big maybe the size bedroom window and it had no roof but the specks of stars in the navy dome of the sky. It was perfect, though. I picked up the book, found the page I doggy eared and continued to read.

My phone flashed midnight when I heard the steps creak and a giant shadow ascends up the ladder. I shut my book with the slam and rose to my feet. Looks like I am getting kicked out of my spot. The shadow reached the reached and stopped a few feet in front of me. It loomed above my form, giving me the creeps and so I flashed my light, blinding him.

    “Hey!” it shouted, a massive hand moving to cover its eyes.

    “Who are you and why are you down here?” I demanded.

     “Are you trying to blind me or something?” the shadow grumbled.

     “Answer me.” I quivered, frightened that I could be raped and murdered or something and no one would know. 

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