Sara pushed her glasses up her face as she stared into the laptop through the darkness. Her room was dimly lit and it was late. A small beam of light shone under her bedroom door across her carpet and she kept glancing to it, looking for any sign of a shadow.
“I will be in so much trouble,” she typed into the message box, never taking her eyes from the screen. A biology text book sat next to her on her desk opened to a page about female anatomy and reproduction.
“You’ll be fine. The password is bacon,” said the flashing box on her screen. Suddenly a shadow passed between the light of Sara’s bedroom door and it clicked open.
“Sara?” a tired, masculine voice called his accent slightly southern. In stepped her father, a man of average height, build and demeanour. He was just average, her dad. But he was also an over zealous single parent and the state Governor.
Sara quickly minimised the flashing box and her homework popped onto the screen. Ovaries littered her view as she flipped a page in her text book, skimming the text. Her father walked towards her, his slippers shuffling across the carpet causing footprints to form in its luxurious fibres. She pretended not to notice him until he laid a caring hand to her shoulder.
Pretending to be startled she jumped, her sixteen year old body leaping from the wooden chair it sat in. “Daddy,” she exclaimed on a breathe, her hand resting on her heartbeat that did not change.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised for scaring her. He glanced at her screen before his eyes fell on the book to her side. He blushed slightly from the images. “Try not to be too late,” he told her with a smile, planting a kiss to her soft auburn hair.
“I won’t,” she promised and watched him leave. The door clicked shut in the frame and she heard him close his own down the corridor. Her eyes remained fixated on the light below from the hall before it disappeared and the only sound that could be heard was from the hum of her hard drive.
Sara quickly dismissed last weeks homework assignment that she had already handed in and maximised the conversation box. “He’s gone to bed,” she typed in a rush. “I’ll be right there.”
Sara was a rebel. But a good one, virginal and responsible. She was kind, polite and courteous to her father’s face and a different person behind it. She snuck out, went to wild parties and often got drunk. She figured what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. Her grades remained high and she saw no harm in enjoying her teens.
Her friend and her boyfriend waiting in the chilled night air on the corner of the street. They all met here regularly and went to college parties. The campus was just down the road and if you knew the password, you could get in. Luckily, her friend’s boyfriend was in college and so that wasn’t a problem.
He bounced on his feet and rubbed his hands together. His long black jacket neglected to warm his hands in their pockets so he resorted to friction instead. Her friend, dressed in a white top, tight skin hugging black pants and dark brown leather boots tapped her foot impatiently.
Sara ran her hands through her curly hair, trying desperately to turn it into a style as she approached them. She wore a sleeveless black top that tied up at the back with a small scrap of ribbon and made her breasts push out and seem bigger. Like her friend she wore black pants and black heeled boots.
“About time,” her friend shot at her, glancing at the time on her cell phone. Sara gave her an apologetic glance before they made their way down the street. The music from the house could be heard before they even saw it, its bass line violating the still night. Sara’s stomach tickled with a pang of nerves and she laid her hand on it gently.
Her boots clicked on the sidewalk as they made their way to the door. A guy in a white shirt, his buttons undone to reveal a retro t-shirt beneath, stood before them. He has a beer bottle in one hand and his eyes looked red, probably from the heat inside. He was reluctantly on password duty.
“Password,” he shouted at them over the music, holding his hand to the back of his ear, straining to listen for their reply. Sara looked at her friend who looked back at her, a nervous smile spreading across her face.
Her boyfriend leant forward to the guys ear and whispered something into it, presumably the password. He stepped back into position beside his girlfriend and the guy nodded, pushing the door behind him open.
The music hit Sara like a rush of adrenaline, shaking her to her bones. The doormen gave her a filthy grin as she walked past him and she hung her head to hide from his glares. He licked his lips before placing the beer there and drinking hungrily, a drop or two missing his mouth and running down his chin. Sara grimaced and pushed her way into the party.
The second they got into the party Sara was alone. Her friend had her boyfriend and she had no one. Taking residence in the kitchen she poured herself a drink into a bright blue plastic cup and leant against the counter. She sighed before taking a sip, the taste bitter and unwelcome on her tongue.
Across the room a similar person stood alone. He sipped his beer from a bottle, each time licking his lips of the residue afterwards, resting the bottle to his stomach. He watched her as she stood alone, her throat fighting desperately not to swallow the sour liquid each time it entered her mouth.
Knowing someone was looking her way she raised her head slowly and scanned the party. People bumped into each other, moving furiously to the music. Some girl who was obviously drunk had taken off her top and was dancing on a table while a crowd of guys jeered her on. Sara’s eyes met his across the cheering. He stood deathly still, staring in her hazel eyes with admiration.
Their eyes were met for what seemed like forever as they both just stood and stared. Sara’s mouth was open a crack with amazement of his handsomeness. He wore dark blue jeans and a khaki t shirt that displayed the logo of some band or another. His large hands cradled the beer bottle at his front and he lazily traced the label with his thumb.
He smiled and she melted away. The music seemed to fade away as he pushed himself from the wall and strode confidently towards her. Her entire body flushed with anticipation, her hairs prickling beneath her clothes. He didn’t walk; he glided towards her, one hand in his back pocket and the other gripping his bottle.
“Hey,” he said simply, a word of greeting, but with a thousand connotations. Before she had time to answer he was rushed from the side, his massive bulk loosing slight balance on the floor under his feet.
“FIGHT!” his friend screamed at him before dragging him towards the table in the front of the house. Sara’s eyes filled with worry as he was torn from her view. He reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged across the room, his eyes saying sorry to Sara in a blue haze of sorrow.
Two guys smashed to the floor as the music stopped and masculine encouragement and clapping filled the room. Sara watched as one guy punched the other, his bloody nose streaming down his face, teeth barred in anger. The guy she had been staring at stepped in and pulled one guy from the other, pushing them apart.
“Come on, this party blows,” shrugged her friend as she stepped into her view. Sara nodded and slapped her empty disposable cup onto the counter behind her, where it tumbled over. Following her friend from the party she shot one last glance over her shoulder. The guy was gone, evaporated in a crowd of cheering college boys.