The Party
Shot One
I sat silently in the back of the taxi while all my friends giggled around me, excited about another shitty college party. They didn’t seem to notice my apprehension, too busy talking about what boys were going to be there, and why this party was known to be legendary every year. The answer is, they didn’t know. They had asked around at college, but everyone had been rather tight lipped about it. All they knew was that it was invite only.
I’m not a big party girl and haven’t found myself socialising much since coming to college so I was really surprised when I found a scarlet red invitation in my locker the other day. In fact five of the girls in my dorm were invited. Their invites were all different colours, but Emma and I both had the red ones. I wasn’t particularly close with any of the girls in my dorm, as they all seemed to prefer to party than actually study and I wasn’t really into that. But Emma was the worst. She would come giggling along the hall at 4am, waking everyone up as she came in, collapse into bed, sleep through her 8am and 10am class before finally deciding to show her face around midday. Yet she still got top marks.
The taxi pulled up at this large stone building, which didn’t look like any student accommodation I had ever seen. It looked more like a mansion of some millionaire. Who’s party was this anyway? I tried to ignore the dread in my stomach. The girls clamboured out of the taxi, giggling. They had already had pre-drinks in the common room but I had to work more on my essay since I was taking time out to go to this party tonight. They were all dressed to the nines, with short dresses and skirts, fuck me heels, and here was me in my nicest pair of skinny jeans and the only top I had which wasn’t a geek t-shirt. It was a plain red tee with a little lace at the top and a small frill at the bottom. I thought it would be dressy enough for a casual flat party on a weeknight but was horrified when I left my room and saw the rest of them. I was going to run back in and change—I thought I had one dress, somewhere—but they insisted I looked fine, and we didn’t have time anyway.
We went up to the buzzer and were surprised to find a note:
“Buzz your colour”.
Where the flat numbers would usually appear, someone had stuck stickers the same colours as the invites beside the buttons.
“Does that mean there are different parties?”
“Ooh, this is so mysterious and exciting. I feel like we’re joining the Illuminati or something.” The others giggled.
Tracy and Stephanie both had purple invites, so they buzzed their colour and waited politely to get buzzed in. The sound never came, but after a few moments someone arrived at the door. He looked down at the invites we were holding. “I’ll let you in,” he sounded bored. He walked away without looking back as we scurried after him. We went into the lift and it felt like it lasted forever, though the building wasn’t that tall so it couldn’t have been that long. Maybe I was excited after all. I had to admit, this was all pretty different. Finally the doors opened and along the hall there were four doors spread far apart from each other. How big were these flats? The bored guy led Tracy and Stephanie into the purple door, but not before pointing us at our flats. Rebecca almost sprinted to the yellow door, not even nervous at having to go to a party on her own, and that left Emma and I looking at each other. We gave a small smile. Her in her red dress which hugged her boobs and her ass in a way that was somehow both classy and revealing, and me in my trainers and a top far underdressed for this occasion, I now realised. We knocked on the red door and after a moment a tall asian guy opened. He looked at our invites and smiled, opening the door wide. There was something in his smile that put me ill at ease, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt and put it to nerves. He certainly didn’t seem to be sleazy anyway. And who would sleaze on me when Emma is sitting right beside me?
“Would you like anything to drink?”
“Ooh, can I have some of the punch please?” Emma asked.
The guy smiled again. There was definitely something sinister in that smile. “That’s for later, we’re going to play some party games first.”
“Okay I’ll have a glass of wine then.”
“And you?” The guy raised his eyebrows.
“Just a beer for me.” Emma glanced back at me but I didn’t meet her gaze. I knew what she was thinking. Real girls don’t drink beer. Guys don’t like girls who drink beer. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend. I rolled my eyes. I didn’t care, college was for studying anyway, and we had class in the morning. Besides from which, any guy who is going to judge me on my taste of drink isn’t worth bothering about.
The asian guy returned and handed us our drinks. He offered me a cup but I declined, preferring to drink from the bottle. I sipped absentmindedly as I surveyed my surroundings. While the flat seemed huge—we had passed door after door in the hallway before we reached the living room—the party was reasonably small. Even though we had arrived quite late because of the pre-drinks everyone was having, there were only ten of us there. Maybe it was a really exclusive party then? I wondered how the girls were getting on in the other rooms.
As soon as we were in, Emma bounded away to speak to a couple of the guys in the middle of the room. One was very muscular, and Emma seemed to be really taken with him as every few seconds she would giggle and touch his bicep. The other one was more what I would consider cute. He was quite slender, looking good in his black shirt, and had dark hair flopping over his eyes.
As it was, I just stood in the corner awkwardly now that Emma had abandoned me, sipping my beer. The other two girls at the party were chatting to a guy in a checked shirt and some light stubble. His shirt was open and underneath was a t-shirt with the logo of some rock band on it. At least someone else was in a t-shirt here. The three of them were laughing and engrossed in their conversation. They seemed to know each other and I didn’t want to intrude.
By the time the asian guy came over to me, I realised that in my awkwardness I had already downed most of my beer. I really had to watch myself or I would regret it tomorrow. He had another beer in his hand which he offered me. I smiled and accepted but I was wary. Was he being a good host or just trying to get me drunk?
“So what’s your name?” he asked.
“Ariel.”
“Whoa, like the fish?”
I rolled my eyes, not again. “Mermaid. But yeah, not from Disney. My parents are really into mythology.”
“I’m Cole. Things are a bit different here, aren’t they?”
I sipped my beer. “It wasn’t quite what I was expecting.” I squirmed a little, feeling uncomfortable in my clothes again. Why had I decided to dress down so much?
“Don’t worry, you’ll feel better once the drinking games start. I promise.”
“Actually, I don’t want—” But Cole had already zipped away from me, noticing someone had an empty drink and immediately refilling. I sipped my beer and realised I had come to the end again. I had to stop drinking so fast when I was nervous. Great Ariel, ten minutes into the party and you’ve already had two drinks. I was getting ready to refuse another beer from Cole but when he went to the fridge, instead of pulling out a drink for me, he brought out a tray of flourescent pink shots. The light chatter stopped as everyone watched him set them down in the middle of the lounge table.
“Right, lets get this party started!” he called, to a general cheering. “These shots are very special, they come from an old family recipe, passed down from generation to generation. Or you know, they came from a bargain bucket at the nearest off licence. Believe what you like. Anyone familiar with russian roulette? Well, this is kind of the same. Only one of these are potent, where as the rest will do nothing more than keep you refreshed. Who’s game?”
Everyone nodded and murmered, clearly excited about the new game. The shots were mesmerising too, Almost iridescent in colour. What kind of off license sells these?
“Erm, I’ll pass,” I say. “I’ve got an essay due that I’ll have to work on tomorrow.”
“Arrii,” Emma came bounding over. “Come on, please don’t have me drinking alone. Plus there are eight shots here and only one has booze in it so what are the chances you will suffer? It’s a party, you’re meant to lighten up.”
I looked at the tray. It did seem enticing, and the chances are I would get just juice anyway. “Alright then,” I grinned at Emma who smiled before running back to her stud. We all took seats and on the count of three we grabbed the nearest shot and downed it.
It was intense. It tasted ridiculously sweet, but with a spicy edge and surprisingly salty too. Then there was the familiar burn at the back of my throat. Oh no.
Cole grinned. “Anyone going to fess up who got the shot?” I stayed quiet, I didn’t want to admit it. Three drinks in the first half hour? I was definitely going to have to leave this party early or regret it. “No one? Don’t worry, we’ll find out soon enough.” Then he turned and winked at me. Did he know? How could he? All the shots were identical. And what did he mean by that?
“So here’s the deal. Throughout the party, I am going to land a tray of shots on this table from time to time. This round, only one shot is potent, but you won’t be able to tell which. Next round two shots will be lethal, then the following round three, and so on until the final round which we will all join in with. Everyone is to help themselves to one—but only one—every time I put the tray down. Should liven up this party pretty good. Lets make sure Team Red will be the best party on the floor!” Everyone wooed at that but I had stopped listening. I was feeling a strange itching throughout my body. Oh god, please don’t tell me I’m going to have some kind of allergic reaction to that shot? I stood up and my legs wobbled a little. I was starting to feel quite weak. I walked to the fridge to grab a beer, as much as I didn’t want to drink, I also needed to do something with my hands to make me feel less awkward. Emma must have noticed I was acting strangely because she soon came over.
“You alright Ariel?” she grabbed my arm to steady me.
“Yeah, you know me, a little bit of a lightweight. I think I got the shot with alcohol in it too. And I don’t know, it’s making me feel weird, I think I might be allergic to something in it. My skin under my clothes is starting to feel really itchy and uncomfortable.”
Emma ran over to Cole and whispered something to him. He walked over to me. “You okay Ariel?” He held my arm lightly, just as Emma had, but this time I felt something electric run through me. I looked up at him and saw a sparkle in his eye. It was only then that I became aware of his scent. It was silky, musky and oh so definitely male. The itching in my skin was starting to pale in comparison to the clenching in my lower belly. I straightened myself, refusing to let him know what was going on inside me, but I couldn’t stop thinking about his hand on my arm, and where else that hand could go.
“I—I think I’m allergic to something in that shot.”
Cole nodded, thinking. He started to run his finger against the side of my arm absentmindedly. “Are you feeling uncomfortable in those clothes, Ariel?”
All I could manage to do was nod. I bit my lip, ignoring the waves of pleasure I was feeling from that light touch. Stop it Ariel, the guy’s a creep.
“Do you feel okay here?” He rubbed his hand up the length of my arm and I felt my knees start to buckle under the sensation. Heat was creeping up me. I leant my spare arm against the counter to ready myself so he wouldn’t notice what he was doing to me. I nodded to his question. The discomfort was only under my clothes.
“Well then, I don’t think it could be the shot’s fault, could it?” he laughed, “I think you must be allergic to the fibres in your clothes.” I nodded. I suppose it was true, my whole body would be struggling if it was the shot, not just under my t shirt and jeans. But hadn’t I worn these clothes before with no problems? My head was slightly foggy from the feel of his touch and the alcohol, but he had a point.
“Tell you what, Ariel. My sister’s room is along that hall. Why don’t you change into something more comfortable there. She honestly won’t mind, she would never forgive me if I let such a pretty girl leave the party early.” Did he call me pretty? My heart leapt at that despite itself. I had never been called pretty before. I wasn’t ugly, but with limp mousy hair that would not sit right no matter what I did, a chest like a boys and no ass to speak of, there was not much to look at. Was he being sleazy or nice? I couldn’t really think anymore as he lead me along the hallway to his sister’s room, one arm on my arm and the other on my ass, directing me. I knew I should have been offended, but somehow it felt right. He was just being helpful since I was struggling so much to walk, wasn’t he? I got worried he would follow me into the room and I would be alone with him, but he opened the door, pointed to the cupboard and closed it behind me, leaving me to it. I should have felt relief, but why did I only feel disappointment?