She didn’t know how she got this far at the party, but here she was, beside Roz Norcross, walking to the second from the top level of the yacht. This was a five tier boat. It was
massive and reminded her of her daddy. Her daddy could get behind parties like this. He liked big parties. A lot of shit happened at big parties. That’s how she was conceived.
Go big! Go hard! He would say.
If you don’t do any of those things, don’t do a damn thing! So here Honey was, going big and going hard. Partying like a rockstar. Just like her big man. Boy, would he be proud of her tonight. Somehow she got this close to what he’d call a good lay, to her she was finally near her crush. She
must be doing something right.
Okay, Honey was more stumbling and crawling than walking, but she was on a mission. After she overheard there was a pool on this boat, she came to the daunting realization how
hot she was and how she
needed this pool. Occasionally, she would stop to check to see if Roz was still near.
Yepp!
Roz was still with her. What a lucky girl she was.
“I’m glad you didn’t take off the vest. It’s like your signature!” Huffing a little, losing her breath, Honey paused from the climb to take a break. There was too many steps. She wanted to die. Why was walking harder when drunk?
As far as parties went this one rated as fairly unnoteworthy as far as Roz was concerned; that had been her biggest concern when she first heard about it and every minute she spent here was making her more and more upset that she didn’t stick to her plan of not showing up and running some fluff piece. Her and her damn pride. Still, even if the article about this party would read more like a takedown of the host, Roz couldn’t say that it was a total waste.
After all, she was walking alongside someone that was clearly glad for the company.
Roz considered it to be something of a good deed she was doing. Honey had clearly been a bit past tipsy and Roz wasn’t sure this was the right place to be drunk and alone. So long as Roz was around, Honey was in good hands and honestly, Honey seemed like she was in a bit over her head when it came to alcohol but other than that she seemed like a rarity at Beverly Hills High: a good person. Of course, Roz had been wrong before, but in her line of work she learned to trust her gut.
“I wasn’t aware I had a signature. Besides the point, if I didn’t have the vest on, my bits’d be hangin’ out and that’s not somethin’ the whole school needs to see.” Roz wasn’t exactly fussed that her shirt was taken, it wasn’t even technically her shirt.
“Careful you don’ fall, I don’ know where the lifeboats are.” “If I fall —” She turned on her heel to face Roz as she bounced backwards on the stairs, doing the opposite that Roz asked. She was not being careful, at all. Hop! Honey was such a rebel. Hop!
Surprisingly, she was landing her jumps.
“—you can dive in after me.” She giggled, her dimples apparent under the decorative rave-esque lights. Hop! Feeling a sudden slip, she grabbed onto the railing to play it cool. Like she wasn’t about to bust her ass. Totally intentional.
Hyperly turning around, her eyes lit up,
“The pool!” Scurrying to the top, Honey, gaining top notch hustle, rushed to the water, while taking off her boots. That’s all she needed to take off. Shi’s clothes were practically a bathing suit! It showed so much skin.
“Let’s play an ice breaker, Roz!” The first thing Honey did was reach her hand towards the falling water that went into the
pool. Her body leaned forward enough to where her tushie was popping out, as she continued to stretch her arm closer to the waterfall.
Oooooh! It was cold.
The question that lingered in Roz’s mind was how much of this was Honey and how much of it was the alcohol? Roz was no stranger to drunks, hell she practically was raised by some, but all that had done was lead to the worst in people being dragged into the light. Maybe the school needed more people like Honey, someone whose alcohol consumption led to positivity instead of being wrapped around a toilet all night while social media feeds came up with new ways to humiliate someone whose only mistake was thinking watered down beer couldn’t get them drunk.
To say she was fascinated would be a bit of a stretch but shockingly, especially to Roz, she found herself nothing if not intrigued by Honey and her whims. Would Roz have dove in after her? Probably. That she couldn’t say the same about some of her ‘enemies’ was telling. When Honey looked like she was going to fall if not for the railing, Roz extended a hand then sharply snapped it back down to her side.
Roz brought up the rear, arriving at the pool moments after Honey had.
“An ice breaker? What, like ‘never ever’ or somethin’? You’re already a bit sauced and I’m not gonna see you get more sloshed.” Roz stood near the edge of the pool, hands buried deep in the pockets of her vest as she watched Honey mess around a bit with the waterfall.
“’Sides, I get the feelin’ you know all about me, yeah? Lookin’ for some of my little secrets, is ya?” “You make me sound like a stalker!” Honey giggled at the sentiment.
If only. There was so much about Roz she didn’t know, so of course she wanted in on her secrets! That being said, secrets came after she built trust. This was her chance to cross the bridge from strangers to acquaintances. In Honey’s book, that would make her night a success.
Turning around to face Roz, resting her bottom on the edge of the pool, she nodded in agreement,
“Sure, never have I ever works! But!” She rose her pointer finger to emphasize her ‘but’.
“If you’ve done what I’ve never done, and same goes for me, we must talk about the experience. Okay?” Pause and…. go!
“You can up the ante if you’d like, since you’re so bold.” Her eyes surveyed the bare areas of Roz, before she kiddishishly stuck out her tongue.
“Now, come join me! Pretty please!” She said
please. With complete reckless abaddon, Honey ‘trust fell’ into the pool, soaking her entire body, including her face with paint.
Was she really all that bold, or was she just someone who didn’t care enough about social reputations to put on an act? Roz never figured she had much of a reputation to ruin, not like those who had their daddy’s bank accounts to cover up any slight or potential wrongdoing. DUI? Throw some money at the judge. Date rape a loud blonde girl? Slap on the wrist because daddy Greenbucks pisses hundreds in the staff bathroom. Compared to the worst sorts that walked the halls on platform shoes and on the backs of others, Roz wasn’t bold at all. She just wasn’t pretending to be something she wasn’t.
But, as she eyed Honey with a curious look that was equal parts fascination and amusement, Roz had to wonder if she always had to be ‘on’. There didn’t appear to be any others around, no doubt they were flocking to whatever poor sod would be the first to say yes to a bit of clothes free humping, and Honey was at that state of drunk where it was likely the only thing she would remember was getting wet. And not even remotely in the way that Roz was familiar with.
When Honey fell into the pool, Roz wasn’t certain it was fully intentional. The last thing she wanted was a drowning on her watch, but who the hell said ‘please’ before passing out? Moreover, what sort of bitter irony would there be in someone drowning in a pool while out on the ocean? Roz’s concern washed away as cleanly as the tide, and with it went her inhibitions - as if she had any to spare.
“Sod it.” Roz was moments away from joining Honey, but there were two very important steps to take care of. First, she took off her vest and set it at pool side; second she dropped trou and folded her pants neatly next to her vest. Honey might not have cared about her clothing getting wet, but Roz had to walk home at least half way, and that was a quick trip to sick city.
It wasn’t as if she was in her birthday suit, but it was the next best thing. Just some unflattering hipsters that would probably come away being sheer and see through after being exposed to water, but then she was ‘bold’ wasn’t she? Roz joined Honey in the pool, not really a fan of the initial temperature but managing it with a soft, sudden wince. This was the price one paid for boldness.
“There’s one to cross off the list. Never have I ever damn near skinny dipped.” “Guilty.” Honey wiped her face, muffling her words, as she took off the glow in the dark face paint with the pool water. The optimistic blonde was focused on finding out more about her crush than looking at the glorious body that belonged to her. Before she told her story, she grabbed a nearby towel, which was conveniently placed near them and wiped her face (she didn’t want to get paint in her eyes).
When she was done, the blonde cleared her throat.
“Okay, let’s see. After I moved here, from New York, my dad would tell me stories about him and his band. Mind you, I didn’t start attempting to try things until I was here for three years because a nine year old skinny dipping would be just weird… It doesn’t help I have a friend, who is basically my sister, that is a major bad influence. Much more… expressive and forward than me. You see all this?” Honey gestured to her wet rave clothes and the running paint,
“This wouldn’t have been a thing without her help. I’m kinda’ a hippie, I guess? At school. So yeah, one night, with some of her friends… we kind of jumped off a cliff… nakey.” She paused, pushing her wet strands of blonde hair behind her ears.
“It’s really liberating, once you throw your fear out the door. I was dared, so I had to do it… and I’m glad I did! Shows I got spunk sometimes.” There was a saying about books and covers that came to mind as Roz listened to Honey’s story; she never figured the blonde for the type and by the sounds of it Roz wasn’t the only ‘bold’ one in the pool. The difference was that Roz didn’t have to be dared to be bold. Still, she was learning more than just the fact that Honey was a bit daring. East coaster, that probably explained why blondie didn’t have the stink of pretension about her. Father in a band, were they any good? Roz didn’t know but it was something to look into. Best friend, or damn near close to it, was likely the cause for Honey’s more wild actions. All useful information to keep on the back burner and edit as needed.
“You know a dare’s not legally bindin’, right? You don’t actually have to do what you’re dared to. Like if I dared you to streak on the top deck you wouldn’t have to. Don’t actually do it, I’s just sayin’.” That she even had to clarify was unlikely but at this stage she wouldn’t put it past Honey to take it as a challenge.
“Me, I’ve never skinny dipped. I think you’ll find as this little game goes on that I’m a massive disappointment. Speakin’ of which...it’s your turn.” “I can’t help it, though.” Honey whined and squirmed in the pool.
“Once someone says dare, I’m like welp, time to prove them I can do just about anything! Unless it’s like murder or bad for the planet. Only books can do that stuff.” Reading was the best part of her day! Today talking to Roz was.
“Oh, yeah, my turn. Lemme see.” Subconsciously, Honey scooted closer to her company. They were
too far apart!
“Never have I ever… taken a selfie! Is that lame? That’s totally lame. I don’t know. Uh, whatever. I’m just going to go with it!” The blonde nervously laughed (which was cute),
“It’s just like rude, I feel, to take out my phone and be like oh-em-gee look at this girl puking behind me. Snap!” When Honey was pretending to be a valley girl, she made sure she had the accent and all.
“Oh, that was rude of me. I shouldn’t make fun of how some girls sound…” Apologetic, but still enjoying herself.
Was it a lame question? Absolutely, but if nothing else it showed Roz just where Honey’s mind was at. Here was this bubbly thing all hopped up on bubbly sharing a pool with someone who moments ago she was cheering for and rather than dive into the nitty, gritty and potentially shitty here she was asking about selfies like an innocent flower blooming in the snow. Roz didn’t quite know how to process that and opted not to think about it for fear of it making her head hurt and spin.
“No offense, but I’m shocked you’ve not taken a selfie. Figure a girl like you’se the type that takes forty selfies before nine and only posts one. I’ve taken one, though. Not exactly as excitin’ a story as jumpin’ off a cliff bareassed but what can be. I needed a lockscreen for a new phone, I jokingly told my right hand man we should pose for a selfie like all the other vapid sorts. For irony’s sake. We did it, we laughed, and I chucked the photo in the bin.” It wasn’t Roz’s finest moment but a selfie of her had existed in one point in time; it was likely the only one that would ever exist.
“None taken! And yeah, I see that. But I guess I’m just kind of odd for girls our age. If I ever take a selfie, I will challenge myself and make a finger painting out of it! Because that seems more unique than just a selfie… okay… back on track. Your turn!” Honey covered her mouth excitably.
“Never have I ever...gone on a second date.” And now one of the subtler points of the game was exposed: little secrets about one’s self disguised as humorous asides. If it was true or not, only Roz could say.
“Does that mean you never got past the first?” Honey’s eyes suddenly grew sad.
“I can’t believe no one would want to date you more! You’re so date material in my book.” Her book was small, but everything she said was genuine. Roz was first page in her book of who she thought was datable. Unique. Mysterious. Smart. Attractive.
“Hey, I guess one date is more than me!” This should make her feel better.
“Unless dates with my brother can count… they probably don’t count.” “They don’t count unless your family’s runnin’ for office. Then it’s probably encouraged. Purity of blood and all.” Roz snorted a bit at her own comment regardless of its humor or if Honey found it half as humorous as Roz had. She’d be the first to admit that she was a bit off her game, but given the situation she figured it was allowed. Weird as it was, her confidence was all she had right now.
“Yeah, means I never get past the first; sometimes don’t even make it through it. Maybe I pick the worst sorts but it’s like, half the time they expect me to fuck ‘em jus’ coz they took me to some fancy steakhouse. I don’ even kiss on a first date. Shockin’, innit? Not so bold after all, am I.” Honey shook her head in disagreement and gave a smile of pure serenity,
“I think it’s bold of you to say no and not pull out immediately. I know I for one wouldn’t want to kiss just anyone and I’d definitely not give my flower up either! In that aspect, I’m not my father.” There was silence, briefly, as Honey came to a sudden realization that there were some things she hadn’t forgiven her father on. Maybe she wasn’t too forgiving, as Jax would put it. Her dad was a good man, but dumb. Very dumb. He broke her dead mother’s heart and
that was a hard pill to swallow.
Honey turned her attention to the pool water. Cupping her hands, she clapped them together, under the water, playing with herself (not lewdly) and causing the water to pop up.
“I don’t think many people believe in romance anymore. At least, that’s what I notice. I see a lot of things. It’s hard to ignore two kids tonguing right by my locker or a girl leading a boy to the janitor’s room…” Part of her was curious how all that felt. Kissing so abruptly and fiercely, like that gearhead did to the newsie in the hallway. There was so much heat in those moments. She couldn’t help but stand there and watch in wonder and awe.
Would that ever happen to her? How would her love story be? Would it be like the movies? Like
‘Mamma Mia!’? Or like
‘Midnight in Paris’?
“I don’t think people really notice me.” Standing next to Shiloh or Jax or both, it makes sense why she doesn’t shine as bright as them. Those two were crazy talented, crazy attractive, and crazy personable. She was kind of a dork, who did a lot with her hands and had her head stuck in the clouds or in a book. That’s really all she had going for her; she didn’t know what her favorite things to do were. She liked doing many things. A girl, who wasn’t typical and who lived in her own world. That was Honey in a nutshell.
Shaking her thoughts out of her head, she looked back up at Roz and childishly simpered,
“My turn again! Never have I ever…. stole something! That cost more than TEN dollars. I accidentally walked out with a five dollar bracelet, but that’s about it.” Suddenly Roz was feeling as if she should’ve kept her pants on, not that she figured a woman’s body was an unknown sight to Honey, but because she had done it to tease, to poke fun at the fact that Honey was unabashedly cheering for Roz back at the blackjack game. Now it was starting to feel like Roz was taking advantage of someone who was adorably innocent about some of the more finer matters of social life. Roz was not someone that surprised often or easily, but the surprise was in how she was responding to Honey; she didn’t think people like her existed in Beverly Hills High - but that’s probably because Honey was from the east coast by admission. If nothing else, Honey was certainly living up to her namesake. A sweet kid who was too good to be crushing on Roz.
“Romance ain’t dead.” Roz shook her head rather mildly, drawing her arm through the water and watching the ripples left in her wake.
“Just that you ain’t gonna find it with people who trade sex like they’re stock options. What does anyone on this boat know about romance when there are rooms being rented out for sex like it’s a hooker’s hotel? When half the student body is willing to blow the other half for even a hint of notoriety, of course it’s gonna seem like romance is dead. That’s the thing. A bunch of rich kids with parents who get off on fucking over the little guy ain’t gonna know how to do anything but think with their dicks. Coz that’s what they are. To them, the only thing that matters is status. Dickin’ down the head cheerleader or jerkin’ off the Elite in a blowbang, it’s all about showing off. This party is an extension of that. Just bored kids with too much money waving their dick in the air because no one has ever told them no.” The metaphor got lost from her halfway through her little rah-rah rant but she spoke with conviction enough to convince herself that what she was saying made sense. For a moment in time, Roz forgot the company she was keeping and offered a word of apology when the water calmed.
“Present company excluded, of course. Don’t stop believin’ in romance, it’ll find you.” The game was continuing and Roz had to shake her head to shift focus back to it.
“I’ve never stolen from a store or anythin’. Between you an’ me, though, I’ve stolen somethin’ from every party I’ve gone to. The beach party a couple days ago? That beach house is missin’ a vase. Probably cost more than my neighbor makes in six months. I’ve been eyein’ a couple of the painting’s on this boat. If one goes missin’, you didn’t hear it from me.” From her surprised expression to Roz’s sudden and unexpected rant to her giggle from Roz’s response to her ‘never have i ever’, Honey was caught in the moment and incredibly intrigued. If she could have it her way, she’d want this to last forever. Roz may have been caught off guard by her naïveté, but Honey was proven right with her theories and didn’t find anything wrong with her crush. She always felt there was more to Roz than being an oddity in a rich school. There was something about how she held herself, that spoke volumes to her. A strong woman who had many beliefs and opinions, because it was the main thing keeping her afloat.
It was her purpose.
The game was no longer on her mind.
“Oh, I know. Kids may not think like me, but I’ll continue believing romance is out there. I can’t judge their love stories, because I don’t know the full story. I don’t know their story. And really, you can’t know if your love story has a happy ending until you see it through. I guess a lot of things are subjective, don’t you think? This is probably why the Weekend Warrior is so popular! They stick to their guns and stir up the pot, even if it’s kind of hurtful, some of the things they say… I’m a very adamant reader. Of both the Black and Orange and the Weekend Warrior.” She nodded to her matter-of-fact.
“I actually didn’t go to the New Years party, because I was spending the eve with my dad, but reading the WW really made me glad I wasn’t there.” She paused to catch her breath, before looking into Roz’s eyes with a contemplative expression,
“At the same time, I’ve seen these people, and don’t feel like the article was very accurate on who they are. Maybe I’m just hopeful. Maybe I think no one really has any huge agendas besides being a teen and trying to make high school not suck… Maybe I think there’s good in everyone... but I think part of why I keep up with the school paper and the WW is because I find it interesting how they both tell us how to think. “I love reading how they voice their argument.” Honey leaned back on the pool’s rim, looking up at the ceiling,
“Sorry, I went off on my own rant just now...” Honey was forgetting what the original point of their conversation was.
Were Roz one for vanity she might have smiled from the moment Honey mentioned being a reader of the Warrior. Granted she didn’t know Honey as well as she perhaps would’ve liked, but based purely on the night’s interactions she didn’t peg the girl for the type to bother with something like the Warrior. The reputation for the blog was that it was essentially Beverly Hills High’s very own tabloid and Roz resented the comparison. Tabloids dealt in bullshit stories for people that thought reality television was the pinnacle of human achievement. The Weekend Warrior was closer to a manifesto, a call to arms for any student who felt out of place or pushed around by the faux authority of the ruling class that was a high school caste system.
It killed her that no one seemed to understand that. It killed her twice that it was seen as little more than a burn blog.
“You read Weekend Warrior? It’s a bit rubbish, unless you like your journalism yellower than piss at a drug test.” Roz doubted that Honey was aware that the creator and head contributor to the Weekend Warrior was floating in the pool and she would prefer to keep it that way. The point of anonymity was to make the students feel that any one of them could be the Warrior and while she trusted Honey enough to let her guard down, she didn’t trust a host who took time to specifically roll out the red carpet for her.
“If I were you I wouldn’t poison your mind with that rubbish. From what I’ve seen you’ve a good head on your shoulders. It’d be a shame to lose it.” If it was odd to slander her own work, Roz didn’t seem particularly bothered by it. Likely because they were her words and she was allowed her criticisms so long as they came from her. Or Number One.
“How someone like you hasn’t been swallowed up by this school I don’t know. You’re interestin’, Honey.” Being in the pool relaxed her body and having drank as much as she did, when she’s never drank that much before, inevitably made Honey’s high turn to a crash. Her eyes were getting heavy, it was probably way past the time she found herself snuggled in a blanket burrito reading a book or a variety of articles.
“I like reading and I like to know what everyone’s talking about. The Weekend Warrior happens to be the most talked about thing.” She let out a wide yawn before continuing,
“I’ll be okay, I promise. To get ‘swallowed’ in this school, I need friends.” She chuckled at her unfortunate reality.
“But I don’t think a good friend would change who I am. I’ll do my best to keep my optimism for as long as I’m alive. It’s the only way I know how to be.” Over time (during their conversation) all distance was broken between them. Absentmindedly, Honey rested her head on Roz’s shoulder.
“You’re more interesting, Roz. You got a good head on your shoulders too... very smart, very wise, very strong.... Sure, you got lots of pent up anger and aggression, all that spice, but you’re still good.” There was a pause as the blonde gradually closed her eyes and mumbled,
“Yeah, still good.”
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