Fiction Novel: Letting Go - Chapter 1

Letting Go

Chapter 1

“Do seventeen-year-olds still shop at Party Fair?”

Corrine Stark ran her fingers through her long golden hair before placing her hand on her hip in the center of the aisle filled with plates and cups. Her best friend, Melody Kennedy, stopped the shopping cart beside her and laughed. Corrine was genuinely concerned about somebody finding out where they had purchased their supplies for their party. Melody grabbed a sleeve of red cups and a pack of blue plates and tossed them into the cart.

“I don’t care,” she told Corrine honestly.

“Don’t laugh at me. You care over things like if people like your party. So, logically, if people don’t like where you bought your supplies from, then they may not like the party,” reasoned Corrine.

“Seriously,” said Melody, “that’s not logic.”

“I just want everything to be perfect for you.”

“You’re overanalyzing what people drink out of,” Melody told her.

Melody had the house to herself for the weekend, and she had dreamed of throwing one huge party without adult supervision for the past year. Her house was massive, and she was psyched to invite every teenager she knew. Corrine had fought her on the list of guests, but in the end, agreed to disagree, and let Melody have her way. After all, Corrine was invited, and was helping prepare for it, so that was all that really mattered.

Corrine bit her thumb nail and looked at the cups. “Do we get all one color or different ones? You need at least three more packs.”

“There’s twenty-four in one pack!” exclaimed Melody.

“I know.”

“There were only forty people on my list,” Melody reminded her.

“You never know who might bring, like, another guest or something,” Corrine said quietly.

“You invited more people,” stated Melody, without even forming it as a question.

“Well, some people found out, and I couldn’t be like, ‘um, no, you’re a loser. Sorry.’ That would be too mean. You wouldn’t want that reputation, would you?”

“Whatever,” said Melody.

“So what about the cup colors?”

Melody shrugged her shoulders, and Corrine took it upon herself to buy only the red cups. They bought streamers to hang in the dining room and three large punch bowls for drinks. Melody knew she couldn’t use the real kitchenware. They picked out silver helium balloons to place in different rooms, and while the cashier filled the balloons, Melody and Corrine played with the paper party hats and kazoos near the register. Twenty balloons later, they left the store, laughing and carrying bags of supplies, about to float away with the balloons.

Five hours after setting up, placing out various types of food, and trying to dress as quickly as possible, guests started arriving for the party. Melody curled her hair and slipped into her strapless blue dress. She was thin, and it fit well. Corrine had stood beside her in the his and hers bathroom, straightening her own hair before putting on a denim mini skirt and sleeveless white top. Make-up was applied, and once they knew there were more than twenty people downstairs, Corrine decided they could finally make an appearance.

“P.S.,” said Melody as she opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “Jason is going to die when he sees you in that skirt.”

Corrine rolled her eyes. “I don’t want Jason.”

“He wants you, though!” Melody teased.

“Shut up!” Corrine shouted, over the music, reaching for the railing on the steps.

“True story…” Melody said.

“I’m trying to avoid Jason. You think Christopher is here yet?”

Melody blushed. “I hope so,” she said quietly.

“That dress is killer. It’ll draw him to you in a matter of seconds.”

Teenagers filled Melody’s house, some she recognized, some not so much. Christopher Hampshire was her boyfriend, and she couldn’t deny how attractive he was. She walked from room to room, greeting guests, but searching for Christopher. He had promised he would come after his basketball practice with his dad. Melody still could not believe he was only a Junior in high school, and his dad was making him practice on weekends.

“Melody!”

She turned and saw someone she loved. Michael Norman. Sometimes even more than Corrine, Michael was best friend. He had been there for Melody through everything. Anytime she needed someone, he was there. And here he was. He pushed his way through the crowd to make his way towards Melody, and a smile crossed her face. He looked cute, carrying his drink. He was wearing jeans with a red collared shirt. It matched the cup.

“Hey you,” said Melody, giving him a hug. “I’m glad you’re here!”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, smiling.

Melody leaned into him slightly, liking how comfortable it felt standing with someone she cared about. She giggled as Michael pointed out a group attempting to dance by her fireplace. He offered to spin her a few times, and Melody finished the last of his drink before accepting. He was more laid back and relaxed than Melody ever could be. He was absolutely a different personality than Corrine, which is probably why Melody felt some sense of balance in her life.

When he swayed with her from side to side, it felt easy.

“Can I cut in?”

After just one song, Christopher stood behind Michael, extending his hand to Melody. He smiled, showing his dimples, and Melody’s heart skipped a beat. Michael let her go, but kissed her cheek before walking away. He promised to help clean up later, and Melody thanked him. Christopher kept his chin tilted upwards, as if attempting to intimidate Michael.

But Michael just brushed past him and disappeared into the crowd. Melody wondered if he would look for Corrine, but before she could even say or think anything else, Christopher had his arms around her and was kissing her neck.

“Christopher,” Melody said quietly, “I was looking for you.”

“I was looking for you too, Babe, and here you are. Here I am.”

“Here you are,” Melody said slowly, trying to take in the situation in front of her.

“You’re so hot,” he told her, slipping his hands around her back and towards her hips. “I don’t deserve you.”

He moved sloppily as he attempted to dance with his hands on her hips. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as they moved back and forth. Three of his teammates ran up before the end of the song they had been moving to and patted Christopher on the back. He would keep one hand on Melody’s waist and use his other to acknowledge them with a high five. One of the boys he even missed as his hand flew through the air. He ended up hitting the other kid’s shirt.

It may have been a party without adult supervision, but Melody could recognize when somebody needed to be taken care of.

“Do you need to lay down? I know you had a long day,” offered Melody.

Christopher grinned. “You coming with me?”

“No,” Melody said, “but you could lay in my room. If anyone asks, I’ll say you’ll be back.”

At first he refused the bed, but after Melody stood on the toes of her heels and kissed his forehead, he accepted. She walked him to her room and helped him take off his shoes. He pulled off his shirt and threw it across Melody’s desk on the other side of the room. Melody stared at his perfect abs as Christopher pulled back her pink covers. She moved around the bed as he laid face down into her pillow. Would her bed smell like him now?

Not that she was totally complaining.

Melody helped him get situated beneath the sheets, and he pulled her closer, although his eyes kept opening and closing. She reminded herself to pull the trashcan closer to the bed before leaving, because although Christopher was a pretty sight, even in this state, his vomit would not look so pretty all over Melody’s bed.

“Lay with me,” he begged.

The sound of the music was faint, barely audible through the bedroom door, but she could hear the guests in her home. “That’s just not an option, Christopher.”

He frowned. “Two minutes. I bet I’ll even be asleep before then.” He slurred his words, and Melody giggled, resting her arms on the bed in front of him.

“I’ll wait here.”

“That’s so far away. Why are you doing this to me?” he moaned.

Melody patted his head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do. I do know. I know I want you in this bed with me. Like right here.” He threw his palm against the sheet beside himself. “That’s meant for you. Nobody would even know. Well, I would know, and you would know, but that’s it. Right now. Don’t be mean, Melody.”

“I’m not being mean. I just think in the morning, you may look back on this and think twice about what you’re saying.”

“No regrets. You live with no regrets,” Christopher repeated himself. “Maybe, one day, when he’s all grown up, you’ll regret it. That’s what she said. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t regret it now. He doesn’t know what he’ll think later. What if there wasn’t a later to even think about? You don’t know. Nobody knows.”

Melody narrowed her eyebrows and smoothed Christopher’s hair. His eyes were closed, and Melody wondered if he was starting to dream or was repeating something his mother had said. She was worried to question him that he might get upset over something so she sat and listened.

When he was finally quiet, she said, “It’s going to be okay,” because that phrase usually applied to most instances.

With only one arm, Christopher managed to grab Melody’s whole body and sweep her into the bed. She laid beside him, with his arm still wrapped around her. She rubbed his arm with her left hand and played with his hair with her right hand. How many girls would sin to be in her shoes right now?

Suddenly, Christopher pulled himself up and leaned over Melody, staring into her eyes. He traced the scar over her right eye with his finger. She flinched out of reflex, and Christopher recoiled. She muttered an apology, but knew it meant little to nothing. Even when he was sober, Christopher talked about spending time together in bed. Melody was just not in that same state of mind.

“When will you be ready?” he asked her.

She shook her head and placed her hands on his cheeks, covering his dimples. “Not tonight.” She gently pushed him back onto the other side of the bed. “Get some sleep.”

Melody stood out of the bed and checked her hair in the mirror by her dresser. She lifted the trashcan and placed it as close to the bed as possible. By the time she reached the door, Christopher was asleep. She could hear him snoring as she opened and closed the door behind herself. She slowed her steps on her walk towards the staircase back downstairs as she heard another noise coming from her brother Walter’s room.

Those sheets would have to get washed in the morning.

* Created November 7th, 2010 KG