A Night I’ll Remember
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Original - Misc › Non-Fiction/True Stories/Autobiographical
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Category:
Original - Misc › Non-Fiction/True Stories/Autobiographical
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,879
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of non fiction. Where possible - and where appropriate - permission has been granted from any people or their descendants to be included in this story. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Part Two
A Night I’ll Remember
Part Two
It was always dark in the Machiavelli, hence the candles on the table. Not that the candles made much difference for us because our booth was lit by the bluish light of a massive LCD television on the wall, showing The Nightmare Before Christmas. I had never seen the movie and didn’t want to see it tonight – I had other plans, I assured myself – so I had placed myself strategically with my back to the television. Lea and Patrick sitting on either flank of me, I could see Louise and Theresa immediately in front of me, with Theresa’s boyfriend sitting slightly outside our little circle, the look on his face a strong indicator of the weed he smoked (“Strictly on weekends!” I imagined him say, but dismissed the thought. He wouldn’t lie like that).
Patricks friends – Freya and Mary - were on his other side, probably a bit nervous from barely knowing anyone present but managing to integrate themselves fairly well into our group. Freya started talking to Theresa and the two of them had a long discussion of bisexuality – ironic, considering that they both claimed to be one, but I digress – meanwhile Mary was talking to Patrick. Jokes flew back and forth across the table and laughing followed. Drinks were emptied and new ones bought. I realized that only one of the people present were even allowed to buy drinks in here, ironically the one no one trusted to order, considering that she’d drop them on her way back.
Still, in our relaxed little country, such restrictions were taken loosely. If you could keep a straight enough face to the bartender, then you could do the same if anyone came to investigate. Not that I had ever seen a control in the last few years I’d gone out drinking. Or expected to see one in the next 6 months until I could legally buy alcohol in bars.
It wasn’t long before Patricks restlessness reached its climax and he said the words we all knew were coming: “Let’s dance!”
A collective groan from all over the table came as a reply, yet moments later Theresa was pulling her half-comatose boyfriend (if only it was because he was drunk, I thought) out onto the dancefloor, Patrick, Mary, Freya and Lea in close pursuit. Leaving Louise and me.
“C’mon!” she begged and I thought it through. On one hand, I hated dancing, on the other… no, not drunk enough yet.
“No.”
“C’mon, I wanna dance!” Fine, I thought. I’ll get really wasted later and then you’ll be dragging me off the dancefloor, I thought…
“I–”
“You’ll get a kiss out of it?” she added and I mentally shook my head. Always nice to get a little reward, I supposed.
“Alright,“ she practically dragged me out of my seat and led me towards the others – who were jumping out-of-rhythm to music, that I doubted the composer had expected anyone would try to dance to. “You really know how to convince a guy,” I said simply to say something, and then replayed what I had just said in my mind. “Broke up with my girlfriend…” I counted the days, “four days ago?” I didn’t know why I said it out loud, but there it was.
Louise smiled at me, giving me that strange look again. I considered asking her what it was this time, but a combination of 1) knowing that she wouldn’t answer and 2) being drunk enough not to really care.
I don’t know how long we danced; maybe only a minute, maybe 10 or maybe even an hour. My sense of time has never been all that good and neither alcohol nor beautiful girls and boys writhing suggestively in front of me helped that. I do know that I was the first who got bored with it. “I’m not drunk enough for this!” I yelled over the music, though I could barely hear my voice myself and I doubted anyone heard it. Still, I turned and returned to our seats.
Louise was only seconds behind me, though she didn’t look excited about it. “C’mon, we were just getting started!” she complained.
“Later,” I promised and pulled her down beside me. Apparently, the others felt drawn to us because before more than a minute – two, max – had gone by, they were all back, sweaty from the dancing and eagerly chugging whatever bewerages they had left on the table. A dry voice in the back of my head told me about the possibility of someone having drugged our drinks, but my conscious self dismissed it. No one was that stupid.
We started talking again, though about what I cannot say. Not that it’s unusual for me to forget drunken conversations, but I am sure I would be able to remember the basics if it hadn’t been for what happened next.
I remember I was making a joke about something Patrick had said and people laughing – Louise didn’t, I noticed (mainly due to the fact that she was sitting so close to me that she seemed like a Siamese twin) – and I turned to ask her what was wrong. She always laughed at my jokes, no matter how awful. I opened my mouth to ask…
Suddenly her tongue was in my mouth. Shocked – I had truly never thought about that side of her – I froze and moments later, when she realized I wasn’t returning the kiss she drew back. Shocked, I asked “what the fuck she was doing?” or something equally unappreciative. I was in shock, alright?
“I promised you a kiss earlier,” she said embarrassed; if it wasn’t because she had so little iron in her body, her cheeks would’ve no doubt been red at this point. I processed what she had said and drew a blank, but tried searching my brain again and suddenly I remembered the exchange from before and felt like slapping my forehead in the classical cartoon manner. “Ah, okay,” I said, not exactly smoothly, “well, then let’s do it properly, shall we?”
My hand was on her lower back and I pulled her slightly towards me, though it wasn’t necessary. Our mouths met and our tongues began exploring each other, like some old science-fiction ‘first contact’ story, they circled around each other and in my head (my eyes were closed) I followed their movements, swearing to myself that they were moving in ways I knew were impossible.
As fascinated I was by this, however, I couldn’t shut the outside world out entirely. I heard Lea cry out: “Oh my God!” clearly shocked at seeing two friends (assuming nothing more would happen) making out.
Theresa reacted much differently, throwing up her hands (I couldn’t see it, but somehow I knew) and yelling: “Finally!” just a bit too loudly. I felt a tinge of irritation; Theresa had long predicted that Louise had a crush on me and I had just as long insisted that Theresa was insane to believe that. Still, that didn’t matter for the moment.
Patrick leaned in – I could hear the leather of his pants in friction with the leather of the sofa he was sitting on – fascinated. Poor thing, he had never had a boyfriend (or a girlfriend, though that was understandable considering his inclinations) and the only person he had ever kissed was one of his friends present (was it Mary or Freya? Didn’t matter).
I broke the kiss and we sat back, attempting to look as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I looked at each person in turn; first Patrick, then Mary, then Freya, Theresa’s boyfriend, Theresa, and finally Lea. “What?” I asked, my mask of a face becoming a boyish grin.
“W-what? Are you dating?” Lea asked, ever so naïve.
“No,” I said, rolling my eyes, “does it shock you?”
She nodded.
“Patrick,” I said, turning to face him – he was still leaning forward, his face still showing remnants of fascination – “would you mind shocking Annie?”
Without waiting for a reply, I leaned in and let our mouths meet. Unlike Louise I didn’t want to have to risk him freezing because of shock, so I eased him into it, waiting until I felt he was ready before using tongue. The words “Oh my God” came as an echo from behind me and if my mouth hadn’t been busy, I would’ve smiled. Patrick was much too eager – and inexperienced – and in his eager his teeth met my lips more than once, as though he was trying to bite off my face. I broke the kiss, slightly disappointed that the cute guy next to me had a better place in my dreams than in reality. Should be the other way around.
“Never been to that kind of party before, have you?” I asked Lea, who managed to stutter no. “Oh, and Theresa?” I asked and she looked at me with big brown eyes – really, when she didn’t know what you were about to ask she looked like a puppy – waiting for my question. “Please, don’t shout. It’s distracting,” I said. It took her a moment to understand what I was talking about, but after a few seconds she made the connection and nodded. For someone speaking Danish, English, Creole and a little German she was a master of non-verbal communication, the little weirdo.
I could feel someone looking at me and turned to the only person not immediately in my vision and found a smiling Louise looking up at me. “Again?” I asked, partially amused and partially bemused, but no reason to ask too many questions, right?
Part Two
It was always dark in the Machiavelli, hence the candles on the table. Not that the candles made much difference for us because our booth was lit by the bluish light of a massive LCD television on the wall, showing The Nightmare Before Christmas. I had never seen the movie and didn’t want to see it tonight – I had other plans, I assured myself – so I had placed myself strategically with my back to the television. Lea and Patrick sitting on either flank of me, I could see Louise and Theresa immediately in front of me, with Theresa’s boyfriend sitting slightly outside our little circle, the look on his face a strong indicator of the weed he smoked (“Strictly on weekends!” I imagined him say, but dismissed the thought. He wouldn’t lie like that).
Patricks friends – Freya and Mary - were on his other side, probably a bit nervous from barely knowing anyone present but managing to integrate themselves fairly well into our group. Freya started talking to Theresa and the two of them had a long discussion of bisexuality – ironic, considering that they both claimed to be one, but I digress – meanwhile Mary was talking to Patrick. Jokes flew back and forth across the table and laughing followed. Drinks were emptied and new ones bought. I realized that only one of the people present were even allowed to buy drinks in here, ironically the one no one trusted to order, considering that she’d drop them on her way back.
Still, in our relaxed little country, such restrictions were taken loosely. If you could keep a straight enough face to the bartender, then you could do the same if anyone came to investigate. Not that I had ever seen a control in the last few years I’d gone out drinking. Or expected to see one in the next 6 months until I could legally buy alcohol in bars.
It wasn’t long before Patricks restlessness reached its climax and he said the words we all knew were coming: “Let’s dance!”
A collective groan from all over the table came as a reply, yet moments later Theresa was pulling her half-comatose boyfriend (if only it was because he was drunk, I thought) out onto the dancefloor, Patrick, Mary, Freya and Lea in close pursuit. Leaving Louise and me.
“C’mon!” she begged and I thought it through. On one hand, I hated dancing, on the other… no, not drunk enough yet.
“No.”
“C’mon, I wanna dance!” Fine, I thought. I’ll get really wasted later and then you’ll be dragging me off the dancefloor, I thought…
“I–”
“You’ll get a kiss out of it?” she added and I mentally shook my head. Always nice to get a little reward, I supposed.
“Alright,“ she practically dragged me out of my seat and led me towards the others – who were jumping out-of-rhythm to music, that I doubted the composer had expected anyone would try to dance to. “You really know how to convince a guy,” I said simply to say something, and then replayed what I had just said in my mind. “Broke up with my girlfriend…” I counted the days, “four days ago?” I didn’t know why I said it out loud, but there it was.
Louise smiled at me, giving me that strange look again. I considered asking her what it was this time, but a combination of 1) knowing that she wouldn’t answer and 2) being drunk enough not to really care.
I don’t know how long we danced; maybe only a minute, maybe 10 or maybe even an hour. My sense of time has never been all that good and neither alcohol nor beautiful girls and boys writhing suggestively in front of me helped that. I do know that I was the first who got bored with it. “I’m not drunk enough for this!” I yelled over the music, though I could barely hear my voice myself and I doubted anyone heard it. Still, I turned and returned to our seats.
Louise was only seconds behind me, though she didn’t look excited about it. “C’mon, we were just getting started!” she complained.
“Later,” I promised and pulled her down beside me. Apparently, the others felt drawn to us because before more than a minute – two, max – had gone by, they were all back, sweaty from the dancing and eagerly chugging whatever bewerages they had left on the table. A dry voice in the back of my head told me about the possibility of someone having drugged our drinks, but my conscious self dismissed it. No one was that stupid.
We started talking again, though about what I cannot say. Not that it’s unusual for me to forget drunken conversations, but I am sure I would be able to remember the basics if it hadn’t been for what happened next.
I remember I was making a joke about something Patrick had said and people laughing – Louise didn’t, I noticed (mainly due to the fact that she was sitting so close to me that she seemed like a Siamese twin) – and I turned to ask her what was wrong. She always laughed at my jokes, no matter how awful. I opened my mouth to ask…
Suddenly her tongue was in my mouth. Shocked – I had truly never thought about that side of her – I froze and moments later, when she realized I wasn’t returning the kiss she drew back. Shocked, I asked “what the fuck she was doing?” or something equally unappreciative. I was in shock, alright?
“I promised you a kiss earlier,” she said embarrassed; if it wasn’t because she had so little iron in her body, her cheeks would’ve no doubt been red at this point. I processed what she had said and drew a blank, but tried searching my brain again and suddenly I remembered the exchange from before and felt like slapping my forehead in the classical cartoon manner. “Ah, okay,” I said, not exactly smoothly, “well, then let’s do it properly, shall we?”
My hand was on her lower back and I pulled her slightly towards me, though it wasn’t necessary. Our mouths met and our tongues began exploring each other, like some old science-fiction ‘first contact’ story, they circled around each other and in my head (my eyes were closed) I followed their movements, swearing to myself that they were moving in ways I knew were impossible.
As fascinated I was by this, however, I couldn’t shut the outside world out entirely. I heard Lea cry out: “Oh my God!” clearly shocked at seeing two friends (assuming nothing more would happen) making out.
Theresa reacted much differently, throwing up her hands (I couldn’t see it, but somehow I knew) and yelling: “Finally!” just a bit too loudly. I felt a tinge of irritation; Theresa had long predicted that Louise had a crush on me and I had just as long insisted that Theresa was insane to believe that. Still, that didn’t matter for the moment.
Patrick leaned in – I could hear the leather of his pants in friction with the leather of the sofa he was sitting on – fascinated. Poor thing, he had never had a boyfriend (or a girlfriend, though that was understandable considering his inclinations) and the only person he had ever kissed was one of his friends present (was it Mary or Freya? Didn’t matter).
I broke the kiss and we sat back, attempting to look as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I looked at each person in turn; first Patrick, then Mary, then Freya, Theresa’s boyfriend, Theresa, and finally Lea. “What?” I asked, my mask of a face becoming a boyish grin.
“W-what? Are you dating?” Lea asked, ever so naïve.
“No,” I said, rolling my eyes, “does it shock you?”
She nodded.
“Patrick,” I said, turning to face him – he was still leaning forward, his face still showing remnants of fascination – “would you mind shocking Annie?”
Without waiting for a reply, I leaned in and let our mouths meet. Unlike Louise I didn’t want to have to risk him freezing because of shock, so I eased him into it, waiting until I felt he was ready before using tongue. The words “Oh my God” came as an echo from behind me and if my mouth hadn’t been busy, I would’ve smiled. Patrick was much too eager – and inexperienced – and in his eager his teeth met my lips more than once, as though he was trying to bite off my face. I broke the kiss, slightly disappointed that the cute guy next to me had a better place in my dreams than in reality. Should be the other way around.
“Never been to that kind of party before, have you?” I asked Lea, who managed to stutter no. “Oh, and Theresa?” I asked and she looked at me with big brown eyes – really, when she didn’t know what you were about to ask she looked like a puppy – waiting for my question. “Please, don’t shout. It’s distracting,” I said. It took her a moment to understand what I was talking about, but after a few seconds she made the connection and nodded. For someone speaking Danish, English, Creole and a little German she was a master of non-verbal communication, the little weirdo.
I could feel someone looking at me and turned to the only person not immediately in my vision and found a smiling Louise looking up at me. “Again?” I asked, partially amused and partially bemused, but no reason to ask too many questions, right?