Safe Haven

Heavy bodies dance to the booming bass, reeking of alcohol and pushing against me. I navigate the crowd, rubbing against more skin than clothes, and reach the kitchen. It's unrecognizable as our house now. The white-marbled counter is littered with plastic cups and dirty plates, and I start grabbing stuff and shoving it into an overflowing trash bin, with which the party guests must've made a game of to see how tall it could go without falling.

I see my sister Cecil dancing a couple feet away, blonde locks and white smile bouncing above a sea of heads. Her arms wrap around a pretty stranger. I shake my head. I can't understand her for the life of me.

I toss the bag to the floor and don't bother to replace the trash bin. "Her party, her mess," I tell myself, already knowing I'll be cleaning this tomorrow. Still, in a mix of rebellion and procrastination, I leave the trash and march upstairs (holding my breath as I pass some guys smoking on the steps). There's a couple e-books on my phone I have queued up, and I find it pleasant to think I'll be spending New Year's Eve reading while her friends are throwing up beer.

I walk to my room when I see the lights on under the bathroom door. My gut burns. I told Cecil a billion times that upstairs was off-limits. I glare at the door and my back tingles at the thought of puke clogging up the toilet I'll have to use tomorrow. And the bathroom was just one thing—drunk couples tumbling into my bedroom, into Mom's bedroom? Jaw clenched, I slam my hand on the doorknob and yank the door open. I scream.

A skinny brown-haired boy, sitting fully-clothed on my toilet, stares at me with a book in his hands.

"What-" I start.

His long hair brushes against his black glasses and reveal his eyes, green and glinting.

"I'm.."

"What are you doing here?" I blurt. It comes out all hard and cold and I don't mean it. Thankfully, he laughs softly and scratches his head.

"I... I've been asking myself the same thing."

I blink at him. I don't know what to do.

"Upstairs are off-limits."

He looks at me and there's a shift in his eyes. He grabs his book.

"Sorry- yes, I'm leaving."

He stands and glances about the bathroom apologetically. I watch, hating myself for feeling like the rude one. I feel guilty nonetheless—I would've done the same as him, at a party I didn't belong in.

"Are you a friend of Cecil's?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Nah, my brother's a friend of hers. He dragged me along."

I nod, but he's looking at the book in his hands. "He fancies her, I think. I honestly don't know why. No offense! You're her older sister, right?"

"Yeah."

We stand in the bathroom for a fat minute. My hands are itching to pull out that e-book and my bedroom is just behind me. The boy purses his lips and I catch a glimpse of his eyes. There's anxiety there—dread. I remember the crowds and the stench of alcohol downstairs and almost physically shudder. Which is terrifying, because I kind of have to pee now.

"I'm gonna just be in my room," I say. He looks at me, eyes big. "So you can hang here, I guess.. if you want."

He beams at me and I can tell he's trying to hide it. He must think I'm like Cecil, think I'm judging him.

"Oh, wait, I have to use the bathroom!" I say. He nods vigorously and comes towards me and I step aside for him to pass before entering and closing the door. I relieve myself, shaking my head. After flushing and washing my hands, I call out, "It's all yours!" With a laugh, I open the door. The hallway is empty.

I hear cheers from downstairs and glance at a clock on the wall: 11:59pm. Hah, of course. I consider going down to join the countdown, but instead smile and go into my room, slipping into the cool covers. I pull out my phone and search through my e-book list. I had caught a glimpse of the book he was reading, and I type it into the search bar. I settle in with a grin, and read.