Yes, another LoD story. Yay LoD! Just so you know I'm more than prepared for angry threats of eye poking for not posting more chapters of Vulnerable and Foster Girl. No need to worry. I've not forgotten about them, I've just run out stuff to write about. So, hopefully, with Hit and Run being posted it will get me inspired to add more to my previous stories. Read and review, hopefully you'll enjoy this story as much as the last two!
I groaned, pulling my black jeans over my bikini bottoms, with not even so much as an inkling to what happened last night. The standard party thing—i.e. me passing out after about two hours from over consumption but only after swimming in the ocean, half way drunk, in my bikini top and jeans.
Lord only knows what other mischief occurred while I was in my peaceful nap, brought on by last nights inebriation. I swear there's a freaking day care in my head right now, with no attendant to stop chubby little children run wild, screeching at the top of their lungs, banging together pots and pans, and making other sorts of ruckus in newly found categories.
That's how bad my hang over are, yet still, I'm a slave to the alcohol and often give into my less than healthy obsession to its bitter, scratchy taste. It's weird, I know, but I feel a great deal safer with alcohol flowing through out my veins, never mind the numerous times I've convinced myself that I was enabled with the ability to fly, thus resulting in me throwing myself off the roof, hollering like some sort of moron, a broken leg when coming in contact with the ground, and a two month grounding sentence.
My parents (The Enforcers as I like to call them) have some sort of deal with my party animal ways. Can't say I blame them. What parent wouldn't have concern for their sixteen year old daughter, running about every night, drinking and experimenting with new drugs no person should have?
Despite their strong efforts to keep me caged up at the house like some wild animal (Personally, I like to think of myself as a tiger, or sometimes a prisoner at the nearest jail.)I still manage to run free and drink to my hearts content. I commend them though; they actually had me once or twice.
"Hello? Nathan?" My voice echoes through the remote island, debris of last nights wild party littering the shore. I came to the party with him, so it would only make sense that he would find me so I could leave with him. Nathan Kalakh, one of the local heartthrobs of Maui, like most of the other boys here. I know what you're thinking and no, Nathan is not a love interest to me in any way. He's my confidante, my buddy, my best friend for like along with his sister, Drusilla. (Weird name, I know…that's why she's good ol' Dru to me.)
Although my full trust was put in the two (Nathan, most of all) I couldn't expect much from either of them. Nathan, mostly. He could be so arrogant at times, and in the back of my mind I know if I chew the little fucker out for just leaving me to burn on the hot white sand, he'd just snort and dish out some lame excuse. That never stopped me though.
"Damn it, Nate," I cursed quietly, combing over the island for my shirt gone astray in the drunken pandemonium last night. Damn Nathan and his annoyingly devilish rock star-ish looks. It's no wonder he had all the girls' on this island wrapped around his tan finger.
To elaborate on me cursing him for his good looks, I may or may not have had a few encounters (Or hook ups, if you prefer to be blunt about it) with the boy. Some drunk, some just out of pure boredom.
I had a good reputation on this island, not just for my insascible love of partying but for my promiscuity. I have no problem admitting it, I have no problem with the reputation proceeding me. A lot of girls on this island have tried to burn me by throwing the words 'slut' and 'whore' my way but I pay no mind to them. It's simple really, they could call me a slut or they could call themselves prudes. But, oh no, they must have the 'Holier-Than-Thou' attitude and make me the enemy of all this instead of counting all the boys they've hooked up with.
I sighed, brushing my raven colored hair from my face. My shirt is long gone by now. Another article of clothing lost and another excuse to make up about why I'm coming home in only jeans and a bikini top.
"Ebony? Is that you?" My mom, Lydia, called out. I assumed she heard my come in through the backdoor of our small house. I knew I should have been quieter but that would be quite out of my character.
"Yep," I answered lazily, clicking my black nails on the door frame.
"Ebony, we need to talk," My father's rough voice rung out shortly after my mothers did. 'We needto talk.' Not once in the history of mankind has 'we need to talk' indicated good news.
"Okay, shoot," I muttered before latching onto the door frame to hang myself from it.
My mother sighed and looked over at my father, giving him the okay to go ahead and deliver whatever bad news he needed to deliver.
"Ebony, we want you to go live with your Aunt Lucie and your cousins in California. Santa Monica, to be exact."
Was this some sort of sick joke? It had to be. My parents wouldn't just send me away for no apparent reason. At least not to my knowledge they wouldn't…
"Ebby, you have to understand why we're doing this. You go out every night and do all these drugs and drink all this alcohol…and do things with all these boys..."Her voice faded out in the last part, obviously ashamed of my promiscuity issue, "We feel that if you go and live with Lucille, maybe you'll change your ways. Lucille is much stricter with Laloni and Alana than we are with you." She spoke carefully, drawing out her reasons like I needed to be spoken too that clearly to understand.
"Mom! Alana and Loni run around just as often as I do, they go to as many parties I do! You can't possibly view Aunt Lucie as being strict with the way they run around," I protested, like it would some how stop the whole world from turning and it would change my parents minds' in a heart beat.
You never know…it might.
"As true as that may be, Ebony, Alana and Loni didn't get caught smoking marijuana by the cops." My father countered, sending a stern look to me. It was alarming to see my father that pissed off, he's usually so placid.
I knew he would pull that card. I just knew he would! My shoulders slumped over as soon as I released the door frame—calling Lucie out on how she lets my cousins run around like I do was my last defense. I hung my head with a sigh of despair. Maybe I was being over dramatic, but I over dramatized a lot of things.
I sluggishly wandered over to the table to take the one way ticket to Santa Monica, California off my parents' hands.
"You're leaving?!" I swear to God, Dru nearly had a heart attack when hearing the news, and she's a bigger drama queen than I am sometimes.
I nodded glumly, allowing my head to rest on Nathan's broad shoulders.
"Yep. At four o' clock in the fucking morning."
"Damn Ebbs, and you're going to live with your aunt?" Nathan chirped up, clueless as he usually is. I'll admit, he has that obliviously unaware surfer boy charm about him and he used that well to his advantage when it came to scooping out his next long term relationship.
Yes, you heard me. Long term.Nathan was no player; he wasn't all that into hook ups unlike me. Me and one other girl were his only exceptions.
In all honesty, I see no need for silly long term relationships. You become so dependant on one person but that one person you thought you loved, that you thought they loved you, leaves forever.
Unlike most girls I know (actually...I think I'm the only girl in Hawaii who thinks like this) I'm not all gaa-gaa over some lame ass Hawaiian surfer guy, if I was, I could turn to Nathan for more than just a one night stand. I've learned to face the reality that people let you down.
"Yeah, and my annoying ass cousins, Loni and Allie," I scoffed a rolled my eyes while lighting a cigarette to share between Dru and I. Nathan didn't smoke cigarettes but the kid was the biggest pothead I knew. That was the secret to our friendship.
He winced at the harshness playing in my voice before he cracked open 3 beers, distributing them between the three of us.
"Our last night together for God knows how long," Dru said a bit glumly, staring at the contents of the beer bottle in hand.
"Mm, I'll drink to that," I nodded, clanking my bottle against Dru's and Nathan's.
I hated reality. If this had been Ebony's world, I would not have been chugging my last beer with the only two people I've managed to befriend all these years, watching the sun disappear and many locals falling of their surfboards.
"Well, I gotta go and get ready for my big flight outta here," I sighed, handing off my bottle to Nathan, "I'll see you bitches later. I'll call when I get there."
"I'm home!" I said, breezing past my parents. I strongly felt I had nothing to say to them, and 'I'm home' is all they deserved. Hey, I could have blown them off completely but that would be just rude.
I groaned, flopping down on my bed and sprawling myself on it, letting my arms dangle of the edge.
How could my parents do this to me? It's not like this is the first time I've ever pulled any stunt like this. Give or take my love of partying, I was a good kid. I didn't deserve to be flown miles away from my home.
I shut my eyes, allowing my fingers to dance along the linoleum paneling of my bedroom floor until they come in contact with a soft cloth material. I forced my eyes back open, bunching the material from the obsidian black shirt in my hands.
I smiled fondly at it as I sat up on my bed. It was, of course, Nathan's. He'd spent the night at my house numerous times, along with lovely little Dru, and left it here. I'd collected a generous pile of Nathan's clothing and pushed it to the corner of my room. He'd come to take back the majority of it, but the uncollected things remained either in said corner or under my bed.
I could feel tears prick my eyes but I forced them back, inhaling the ever present scent of ocean water and cinnamon Nathan's clothing always had. I never thought I'd miss Nathan, out of all people. Best friend or not, I never once picture me crying over the prospect of leaving him and Dru behind for a new, forced life in Santa Monica.
The sand felt good beneath my feet. Is sand like this in California? I don't remember. The last time I paid Lucille a visit, I was only 5.
Four o clock in the morning and not a trace of damn sun light. Guess I don't get to see the sun rise in Hawaii for a last time. What a rip off. Oh, well. I felt my legs voluntarily give out from under me and my butt came in contact with the sand.
I'm pathetic. I'm beyond pathetic, sitting here crying over something I brought upon myself. You know what would make this sob fest perfectly cliché? Nathan showing up to bid me a fond farewell. No Dru at his side this particular morning, just him and his sentimental ways. He would hug me, tell me to do right by abstaining from alcohol and drugs, just so I could come back and fall back into the life and then he would kiss me on the cheek before telling me to keep my chin up. But that would be terribly morose. And terribly out of Nathan's character.
"Ebony, it's time." My mother calls softly, placing my bags in the trunk of car before ushering me into the back seat herself.
Good bye Hawaii.