Chapter Text
The air was finally cooling after another hot Newcastle day. I'd just got off the bus with my bestie Tahlia and we made our way down the road to the familiar house. Liam Miller's place. A bloke that Jay, Tahlia's Boyfriend, went to school with. He was the unofficial host of every decent house party.
He was a cool guy, sure, but lending his house out for teenage antics was the real reason he'd earned his popularity.
Truth was, the only time anyone really spoke about Liam was when he was throwing a party that weekend. Then all the surrounding schools would show up too. Cruel as it was, here I was, doing the same thing. Using Miller.
The occasion? "Newcastle Senior High's back-to-school party". The perfect excuse to socialise with people I'd never usually talk to and start the year off right. It was every teen's dream: get absolutely written off and act like a mess. And just like that, Liam Miller's name stayed in everyone's mouth.
As I got closer, the music grew louder, spilling out through the house's cranked-open windows.
Me and Tahlia were buzzing, excited for the night ahead.
Inside, the place was filled with loud chatter and bodies everywhere. We squeezed our way through the house, with blending in being a simple task. I was met with a few familiar faces but made a quick detour to the kitchen to get myself a drink and build up my confidence to start socialising.
"Hey, I'm gonna go look for Jay. You all good or did you wanna come?" Tahlia had already placed her bag down and cracked herself a can.
"Yeah, I'll grab myself a drink and catch up with you guys." I nodded searching my backpack.
I had my "sophisticated" drink of choice tucked under my arm: a bottle of Passion Pop. It had been sitting in my backpack during the bus ride over, and the glass was lukewarm and sweating.
I gripped the plastic cork. I'd seen my parents do this a million times. You just... twist and push. But the combination of the humidity and the heat from my bag had turned the sugary liquid inside into a weapon.
I gave it one firm shove.
POP.
The sound was like a gunshot. The cork didn't just come out; it launched. It ricocheted off the ceiling fan and, with the precision of a heat-seeking missile, flew straight toward the kitchen doorway.
At that exact second, a skinny kid with messy, blonde hair stepped into the room.
THWACK.
The cork bounced square off his forehead.
He stumbled back, blinking rapidly, his hand flying up to his face. Behind him, a couple of his mates froze in shock.
My hand flung to my mouth as my face contorted into shock. So much for blending in.
I had just sniped this poor bloke in the temple with a passion pop cork.
"Oh my god! Shit! Are you okay?" I dropped the foaming bottle onto the kitchen bench, sticky bubbles overflowing onto my hands. I scrambled forward, grabbing a damp, questionable-looking tea towel from the sink. "I am so sorry! It was the heat, I swear, it just... oh my fuck"
I reached out to dab at his head, but stopped just short of his face. Up close, he looked pale, with gorgeous deep-set blue eyes that seemed a little overwhelmed by the noise of the party.
"I'm alright," he mumbled, his voice low and raspy. He rubbed the red mark on his forehead, looking more confused than angry.
"Just wasn't expecting a warm greeting. Usually, it's just people asking for a light." he mumbled, a tiny, lopsided smirk tugging at his mouth. "They don't usually try to take me out with a projectile cork."
I giggled slightly at his joke. I appreciated him trying to make it light-hearted. "I'm a klutz. Truly. I should be banned from sparkling wine," I said, my face was burning hot.
"Fuck are you good?" His mate with the long brown hair grabbed his shoulders turning the blonde boy into his direction, assessing the damage.
"It's fine." He mumbled looking away and rubbing the spot nonchalantly. It seemed that he hated having all the eyes on him.
But the half arsed affirmation wasn't enough for the brunette boy. He kept his eyes on assault victim with a concerned look.
The blonde guy looked up into friend's eyes. "I'm fine Ben. Seriously." He was more confident in his reply.
"Fuck as long as your not concussed." The boy now known as Ben patted him on the back before nodding and walking off.
He looked down at the bottle on the bench, then back at me. His tiny smirk remained. "Passion Pop? Brave choice."
"It was the cheapest thing there." I defended, feeling the need to reclaim some dignity.
Great. I'd assaulted him and started banter. Might as well commit.
"I swear I'm not usually this dangerous," I said, nudging the bottle further away from us like it might attack again. "That thing's basically a loaded weapon."
"I'll remember that next time I see one," he replied. "Protective eyewear and all."
There was a brief, comfortable pause. The kind that only lasts a second but feels longer in a noisy room, before he stuck his hand out.
"Oh, I'm Daniel, by the way."
I raised an eyebrow glancing at his hand, then back up at his face unsure. His eyes were soft and curious. I shook it.
"I'm Vanessa. Sorry again for the..." I gestured to my head. "head trauma."
He nodded, "Vanessa," he repeated. "Hey, no worries... I've forgotten about it already."
I gritted my teeth and raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure that's a symptom of head trauma."
He chuckled quietly, his head in his hand. "Makes for a better story than 'I walked into a door.'"
Behind me, someone cranked the music louder, bass thumping through the floorboards. The kitchen felt warmer now, tighter.
"So," Daniel said, nodding at the bottle, "What are you doing with that? It's making me nervous."
"The plan was to pour myself a drink."
"Yeah, let me do it for you, please."
He poured me a glass and handed it over reluctantly, earning a laugh from me.
I lifted it in a mock toast. "To survival."
He flinched trying for another laugh before clinking his can against the glass. "To survival."
I took a sip and grimaced. The mouthful was warm, overly sweet, and slightly fizzy.
"God, that's foul."
He laughed properly this time, head tipping back slightly. "Cheapest for a reason."
Somewhere in the house, someone yelled Liam's name, a beer smashed, and the night officially tipped into chaos.
And just like that, the party had started not with a bang, but with a cork to the forehead.