• a thing •

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT: a thing

When Corey first awoke that morning, he was struck with a pang of confusion. It took him a moment to gain a real understanding of his surroundings, and memories of the previous night came flooding back to him. The sheets he was cuddling were foreign, but the smell couldn't be more familiar — Dorian's cologne. He'd spent the night with him.

The thin blinds were drawn shut and sunshine soaked through the cheap material, falling over his face and the dusty carpeted floor. The musty scent of the room hit him like a wave of nostalgia. The stale carpet and mouldy wallpaper reminded him of visits to his grandma's house when he was a little boy. His Mother would send him there some weekends, force him out of the house so he couldn't watch his violent Dad beating her every night. His grandma died when he was just six years old — he didn't think about her much, but this room reminded him of her, or the smell did at least.

He loved his grandma — she spoiled him rotten. Every time he visited, she'd take him to the shop down the road and let him pick out as many sweets as he wished. She used to drive him to the seaside and he'd roll his window down, letting the salty breeze ruffle his hair and sting his rosy cheeks. The beach was their thing, and no matter what time of year it was, they'd buy an ice cream and eat it in front of the waves crashing against the jagged rocks. His memories of his grandma were only sweet; rock candy sticks, licking the spoon after baking cookies, reheated baked beans and watching daytime television in her cold living room.

And then he'd return to his own house, his own life. His Father would scream at him, his Mother would cry in the corner. He'd get a slap and no dinner. Sent to his room at six PM, the door locked and window shut.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened and Dorian appeared, his face tinted pink from the winter's bite, dressed in his coat and boots. "You still in bed?" He asked in exasperation.

Corey studied his appearance and frowned, "Are you going out?"

"I just got back. It's one o'clock, babe."

Corey glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table and realised that he was telling the truth. "Shit." He breathed. "Where did you go?"

"To see my Mum." His words held weight and his expression fell as he sat on the end of the bed.

"How was she?"

He shrugged, "Well, she definitely hasn't changed. She's the same as ever."

"I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's okay." Dorian tousled Corey's hair playfully, "You ready to go?"

"Go where?"

Dorian laughed, "Have you seriously only just woken up?"

"Yeah." He yawned, "I was really tired."

"I can tell." Dorian grabbed Corey's phone from the nightstand and handed it to him, "Check your messages."

Corey's emerald eyes scanned the screen as he scrolled through his notifications, "We're going to Ty's house?"

"Yeah, he's having a thing."

"A thing?"

"A thing."

"What d'you mean a thing?"

"Y'know...a thing." Dorian laughed. "A get together. Not huge. Just us, Velvet, a few of the guys from the team. Micah will probably be there."

Corey took his sweet time getting ready; he had a long cold shower and brushed his teeth for at least ten minutes before pulling on his clothes. He skipped breakfast, pulled an orange beanie over his head and told Dorian he was ready to leave. They hopped onto his bike and within twenty minutes, they were there.

Corey had never been to Ty's house before, he wasn't sure what to expect. When they pulled up outside, he took it all in. The cobbled pathway was woven with thin ropes of ivy snaking between the stones, and the grass was greener than any he'd ever seen. It was clear that Ty's parents had a passion for gardening; the lawn was perfectly well kept and pretty flowers lined the perimeter. The outside of the house was impressive yet modest at the same time. The bricks were aligned symmetrically and the door painted a pure, coal black colour.

After knocking twice, Ty answered the door with a wide smile, "What took you so long?" He asked frustratedly, but his grin told them he really didn't care. "Everyone got here an hour ago."

"This one wouldn't get out of bed." Dorian pointed to Corey, rolling his eyes jokingly.

"Don't wear the poor boy out too much, Dorian." Ty teased suggestively, pulling them into the house and shutting the door behind them. "The others are just through there."

Corey was impressed at the size of Ty's house. The hallway was wide and clean, the marble staircase shone dully and the elaborate chandelier sparkled above them. It was decorated with modern art and furnished with glass tables and crisp, white sofas. The living room was packed with teens, though a friendly atmosphere hung in the air. It wasn't anything like Sasha's party; it was more relaxed, more mellow. People were lounging on sofas, chatting, laughing, sipping from cans of beer. Quiet music was playing faintly in the background, but it was mostly drowned out by the happy chatter swarming the room. Corey felt much more comfortable here than he had at Sasha's.

Velvet spotted them from the other side of the room and rushed over. She was wearing a low cut crop top and high waisted jeans. Her makeup was subtle but her lips were painted a shade of blood red. "Hey!" She greeted.

"Hi, Velvet." Corey said, "You look nice."

"Oh, thanks, hun — I know. Don't my boobs look amazing in this top?" She laughed before grabbing their wrists and pulling them over to the sofa, "Sit down, I'll grab you guys a drink."

They did as told. When she rushed off to get them a couple of beers, they took the opportunity to scan the room. There were a few familiar faces; Beau, Micah, Leah, Sasha, and the majority of the rugby team. It was filled out with a few of Ty's other friends, some even from different schools. In total, there were only about twenty people there. Corey was thankful that it wasn't a party, he wasn't sure he could endure that right now.

Corey eventually found himself alone with Micah, sitting on the soft rug in the middle of the room. He felt numerous pairs of eyes on him, but tried not to think too much into it. People were gradually becoming suspicious about his relationship with Dorian, but luckily, no one there would judge him. Because despite Ty and Dorian being popular, they were sweet and kind, and didn't surround themselves with total wankers — at least, not voluntarily. Not today. He just hoped that people would draw to the conclusion that he was there because he was friends with Velvet and Micah, not Dorian.

Micah was wearing more makeup that usual today. His eyelids were coloured bronze and his lashes coated in a thin layer of mascara. He only wore a clear coat of lip gloss, occasionally shimmering when it hit the light, and his faint freckles were covered by foundation. He was wearing a pair of barbie pink dr martens while the rest of his outfit was black, minus the silver dog tags hanging around his neck.

"...and my bitch of a Mother said I couldn't go! What fucking bullshit is that? It's just a festival — it's not like I haven't already tried every drug there is—"

"I know about what you did with Dorian." Corey interrupted bluntly, the words tumbling out of his mouth without warning.

Micah rose a brow, his lips still parted from his half finished tale. "Sorry?"

"H-He told me about...about what you two did, y'know, at that party." He rambled, mentally scolding himself. One thing Corey Winters was not was inarticulate.

"Oh." Micah deadpanned, taking a swig of his beer, "Does that bother you?"

"Not really, no."

"Then why bring it up?" Micah smirked, resisting the urge to laugh.

"I-I don't know." Corey stammered, "I just thought I should tell you."

"You do realise I was there, right?" He chuckled, before twisting around, his eyes scanning the groups of teenagers in search of a particular face, "Ty, can we smoke in here?" He asked the host, fixing on a lopsided smile and his politest voice.

"Nah, mate." Ty replied, shaking his head. "My Mum will kill me. Go into the garden."

"Fuck that." Micah murmured under his breath, "It's freezing outside."

Corey rolled his eyes and readjusted himself on the floor, crossing his legs and tugging his beanie down his forehead, almost reaching his eyes. "M-Micah, can I ask you a...uh, personal question?"

His face lit up in ecstasy, "Can I guess what the question is?"

"Um..." Corey's brows creased into a frown, "S-Sure...?"

"You wanna know if it hurts?" Micah giggled. Luckily the sound of fleeting conversations and the murmuring of music smothered their voices. Corey would die of embarrassment if anyone heard what they were talking about.

Corey sighed in defeat, "I just want a heads up, y'know? So I'm prepared."

"Aw, it's adorable." Micah cooed. "We're running out of virgins, I think it's cute that you're—"

"Can you not?" Corey pressed dryly.

"Okay, okay." Micah laughed under his breath. "The first time it'll be agony, or close to that." He told him honestly. "But hey, some of us like the pain." He winked.

Corey's eyes widened in mortification and a warm blush rose to his cheeks, "And what if some of us don't like the pain?"

"It will still feel good." Micah assured him. "And after a while, it will start feeling bearable. It stops hurting."

"Promise?"

"Why would I lie to you, babycakes?"


You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net