Mika takes the glass from my hand. "He means you never drank before...that's why."
Why didn't I ever drink anyway? Who I had been saving up my image for? Who will give me oscar for this huh?!
I shoot him my signature cold stare for which I'm rather known at school. "Nobody calls me that. Speaking of which, you rather seem like you're already drunk," I state.
Damien sneers. "Trust me baby boy, no one can outmatch Damien Frost at drinking."
I click my tongue in disdain. "I had rather odd expectations of you. I shall say good expectations." He expectantly waits for me to continue. "The famous lead guitarist of Four of Clubs and our entire school needed a terrible ploy to drag me at his party. How lowly of him, no?"
Zeb holds onto my collar. "Don't you slander Damien in front of us, Saint! I may or may not like you—we never interacted much either but that doesn't give you..."
But Damien doesn't let him finish and pulls him off of me.
"What Zeb? The right?" I ask indignantly. "Then what about him calling me names?" This time I yank his collar. "You might want to explain that."
Ugh...it was a really really bad idea of following my mind for once!
Damien snatches the filled glass from Mika's hand and takes a mouthful sip. Then he secures my hand around the glass. "Prove us wrong then."
I gulp looking down at the sparkling reddish orange concoction in my hand. Oh no no. This situation feels oddly familiar... He drank from this glass and now wants me to drink. I swear... If I survive this night... I shouldn't have come in the first place.
"Are you too chicken? Saint the handsomest Angel?" Zeb taunts me as the others whistle out like they've been waiting for something like this since the party began.
Some even cheer for me. I certainly am doomed tonight. Damien orders Todd to bring him more drinks. I hate you to my guts Damien. I surely do.
Damien sits with one lag on top of the other. Todd sets down the tray of already prepared drinks on the table.
"Take a seat already." Mika sits me.
Chris now watches me from the distance. His wink makes my skin burn. He must be thinking I needed this. That all this intoxicating craziness is what one requires to de-stress. But I was fine without it, wasn't I?
Damien finishes his first shot in a snap. His lips all soaked with the rawness of the liquor, making them appear more livelier and vigorous. He catches me staring and I look down at the drink.
Chris walks into the circle of crowd. He confidently looks at me. "You can do this Saint."
My knuckles go white by the pressure of holding onto it so tightly. I'll get back at ya later Chris. Once I deal with this.
I press the glass against my lips. Damien's group blow another whistle but he himself just grins chugging down another in an instant.
"Woahh he's on second. Guess Saint Angel is chicken after all?" Todd laughs.
Without another thought I finish the half empty glass of his drink in one go. Augh... It's bitter but also, bitterly sweet. Like my tongue's on fire.
Everyone shouts crazily. "Saint has drunk with us. Wooh give him another. Doesn't he look ready for round 2?" Someone from the crowd yells.
I don't even realise when I finish my second glass. Damien has already finished his 5th shot. The music grows louder and when I'm about to pick up my third, the voices around me begins getting fuzzy. I try to look for Chris through bleary eyes. I feel a hand grabbing me, helping me to get up. Is he..?
"Chris?" Even my own voice feels so distant and washed out. He doesn't answer and I start to doubt myself. The person guiding me to a less crowded corner still remains quiet. He lays me down on a soft cushion thing and after touching it several times I realize it's mattress. I'm on a bed.
"Such a light drinker, my angel."
My angel? Only Chris teased me saying that a couple of times. But this voice...why it sounds different from Chris?
"Just two glasses made you intoxicated. I must say I'm surprised. You never touched alcohol before huh... Interesting."
Who is he? I try to open my eyes but they won't budge. Too tired. I feel both of his hands on my shoulders.
"Don't worry my angel... You are in the most capable hands." His blurry words barely enter my ears when he shoves me on the bed.
••••
A stinging slice of sunrays enter through the corners of my eyes. I get up with begrudging muscles throwing complaints at me for how stupid I was last night. Speaking of it... I turn my head roundabout way to grip hold of my surroundings. Where am I? Wait, this isn't Chris's house. When I'm about to bang on the door it already opens and I get to see the intruder. Or should I say the offender? Am I the intruder...in a way? Cause this isn't my house.
"Damien," I utter his name gripping my head.
"I hope you rested well?"
I grab the piece of his shirt below his collar and a bit of coffee spills from the cup he brought. I have never touched a guy like this...someone like him.
He hisses a little putting down the cup and licks the place where it burnt him a bit.
But my grip on him doesn't loosen. "Everyone went back to their place last night I assume. Why am I the only one here, in your house?" I should've guessed yesterday. It's his house after all.
He grabs my hand leaning towards me. What the..?
"Is this how one talk to someone who took care of this little drunk boy last night?"
Ugh! My poor pathetic ears. My image...was all flushed out, wasn't it? His fresh soapy scent hits my sleepy nostrils making my senses straighten up. Now I notice small beads of water in his hair length. He just took a shower. It makes me look at the clock. 9.10am! Class will begin in an hour!
"Why??" I move my head away from his close face.
He releases my hand thinking about my question consciously. "Since I caused a little trouble, I decided to take responsibility of it."
What does he mean? Ah! I can't think more. I gotta leave fast if I don't want to miss today's class. "We'll continue this later," I state straightening my clothes.
"I made this coffee for ya. Won't you have some?"
Nope. No time.
But I dash out of his place without answering him. Was I too drunk last night? Why didn't you take me back with you Chris?
••••
I don't dare meeting anyone's eyes when I reach school. I give my full focus to Prof. Henri's lecture. Chris hasn't come today which makes my mood all sour. He better give me a proper excuse when I interrogate him.
I hear some whisper behind me but it's so low that I can't make out the words. Suddenly a ball of paper hits the back of my neck.
I unfold it. "That communication needs to happen after this period, my angel." I feel a sudden goosebump crawling up to my neck. That voice calling me yesterday when I was drunk... It was him! Why was he standing so close to me? He said he's the one who took care of me. Why? Did he...record my drunk state? Does he plan to threaten me? What have I done! No no...it can't be that. But Damien helping me out-for what purpose? I'm not meeting him after this class ends or today...
When the class ends I feel Damien's gaze at my back so sharp that I almost run out of the room. He won't follow me right?
I find Donna in her room, writing something. Seeing me she puts away her stuffs.
"Not here. Let's talk somewhere else."
She gives me a look that exclaims-Why?!
"Donna Harper, move around more while you still can," I remark squinting.
She smacks me in a fun way but follows me out. We find an empty room on the 2nd floor.
"What is it that we need an empty place Saint?"
I can't risk anyone hearing us. "You attended Damien's party yesterday, did you not?" I ask reading her expression.
"Yes. I was with my friends. Damien Frost invited both class A and B to his party. I still can't believe it. It was pretty awesome Saint!" She relishes the fun of yesterday. So he indeed threw one hell of a party huh?
She asks again, "Why? You were there too, weren't you? Didn't you see me?" Then she corrects herself, "My bad... I arrived a bit late. But I saw you. You were sitting with Damien's group. You looked pretty cool, Saint."
My eyes flicker in perturbation. "Uhh...how was I cool?"
"Haha you...you drank with Damien Frost. Everyone knows about it."
"Shh... Can you not mention it all recklessly?" I frantically tug on her arm. "When did you go home?"
She pouts. "When everyone left silly. You also left around 10p.m. Don't tell me you forgot?"
What? It's like a thunder shock. I never left his house. Did he lie to others that I already left? I can't even rely on her anymore. I am unfortunately on my own.
"Are you okay?" She shakes my arm.
"Donna?"
"Yes? Do you feel alright Saint? Your face looks color drained."
"Can I ask you something?" I try to connect the dots in my head in the meantime.
"Go ahead."
"Who is Damien's partner in the assignment we are given?"
She perplexingly gapes at me. "Saint..."
"Hm?"
"I said-Saint!"
"I'm listening alright?"
"It's you Saint! I heard he declared it in front of the class."
No! Tell me that's a terrible lie...
With rapid furious steps I march to where Damien usually happens to be; the cafeteria. I find him nattering with Zeb, Mika and Todd.
Seeing me his eyes twinkle. "I didn't think you'd actually come."
I slam my palm against the table. "I need you to come with me."
"Boss?" Mika gives him a skeptical look.
"I don't see a reason why we shouldn't talk here," Damien taps his fingers against the table.
I yank him off of his seat. Both Zeb and Todd protestingly stand up. "Saint!"
But Damien raises his hand. "I'll be fine."
I drag him out of the cafeteria forcefully.
"Do you even know where are you heading?" He asks but I completely ignore him.
When I reach a rather secluded place-the hallway leading to library, my hands take a firm hold of his collar again. "You should state your intention for goodness' sake."
He gives me a clueless stare. "What intention?"
"It'd be better if you quit acting naive." I push him against the wall.
He brings his face nearer. "Don't you think this position is rather..."
"You..!" I release him. "You didn't even think of telling me."
"About what?" He straightens his body. "Can you stop beating around the bush first?"
I clap in sarcasm. "When I left to visit Chris's injury-that was the day right? When you decided to take certain matters in your own hands. What exactly was going through your head when you announced in the whole class that I, Saint Angel is your partner? Why did I have to find it from someone else? Why not you??"
This time he pushes me against the right side wall holding onto my wrist strongly. Is he made of steel? Fresh aqua-lemon scent oozes out from the front of his chest—the first button of his crisp white printed pure satin shirt open. "Do you think I didn't try to tell you?"