The Boy Who Broke Mirrors (Chapter Five)

The Boy Who Broke Mirrors

(Chapter Five)

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After visiting his house, I’ve decided against getting to know Preston on personal terms. It's not really anything he’s done, but there’s just something about him that makes me wary. Not necessarily a bad something, but one that makes me scared of what I might find if I dig deeper. That’s exactly why I need to get this over with as quickly as I possibly can.

“Is this it?” Aiden asks excitedly as we stop at the end of a driveway.

I notice the house’s front door is open and nod. “Yep, definitely it.”

I had a Maths lesson with Preston this afternoon and he left a pile of his AS Level coursework behind that he has to finish by the end of the Christmas holidays. Considering said holidays start today, unless I personally hand him the work he left behind, he’s got no chance of passing Physics. I better get some good karma for doing this.

With Preston’s incomplete coursework firmly in my grasp I trudge down the empty driveway, followed by Aiden. As I approach the open door, I’m not sure whether to knock or just stroll in as the latter seems to be Preston’s desired approach. I decide to knock, and as we stand and wait, we hear an indistinguishable One Direction song echoing from upstairs. I raise my eyebrows. This is a flashing red light of why I’ve chosen to avoid Preston on personal terms.

“D’you think he’ll let me use the toilet?” Aiden asks as I hear a door open upstairs. “You know I've had peeing anxiety since the incident when I was eight, and before you say anything, I know it was a long time ago and I should be over it. It's not as easy as that though, Effie, and I really need to go. If I pee myself in front of Zack Maddox I will literally have to disembody myself right there and then.”

Footsteps start bouncing down the stairs until Preston is standing in front of us with a one-sided smirk on his face and a lit cigarette tucked behind his ear. He seriously needs to start putting those things in safer places. I hand him his work before he even has the chance to begin any small talk, and I’m about to take my opportunity to leave when Aiden opens his mouth.

“Can I use your toilet?” There’s a shimmer of panic in his voice. “Uh, please, don't want to pee myself.” He jokes, but begins stammering. “Not that I’ve ever done that before, like, not even on a waltzer in a fairground or anything, not even then.”

An amused glint dances in Preston’s eyes as he laughs. “Yeah, of course. Down the hallway, turn left, and it’s straight ahead.”

The second Aiden enters the house and sprints for the toilet, I want to run after him and flush myself down said toilet because that sounds far less painful than having to be alone with Preston. It’s entirely irrational really because I see him every week for our Maths lessons, but there’s a massive difference between Preston the Maths tutor, and Preston the eighteen-year-old who made me tie his hands together with a shoelace. Then there’s the peculiar case of Zack Maddox, of course.

I relax a little when Preston doesn’t say anything to me and takes a drag from the cigarette behind his ear. As he places the paper I gave him down onto the stairs it’s hard not to notice the irritating, bouncy sounds of One Direction pulsating through the house. Why is he even listening to such an atrocity?

“You shouldn’t take music so seriously.” Preston’s voice snaps me out of my trance, and I’m beginning to worry that he can genuinely read my mind. “Enjoy it for what it is. Don’t get caught up in what it isn’t.”

I wonder if he writes down his pretentious words of wisdom beforehand. I bet he does. I bet he gets giddy when he manages to whap one out too.

Before I can reply, Aiden emerges into the hallway behind Preston and scurries himself back beside me. He thanks Preston for the use of his toilet and rambles on about something nonsensical for a few seconds. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the poor boy so nervous and embarrassed all at once. As I try to say goodbye to Preston and turn away, he stops me.

“Are you two up to anything tonight?” he asks. “I’m throwing a small party here, so if you fancy it--”

“Sounds brilliant!” Aiden replies before Preston even finishes his sentence, let alone before I have enough time to decline the invitation.

I open my mouth to speak but Aiden shoots me a pleading look. Either due to me becoming momentarily crazy, which I can honestly see being the case, or due to the feeling of Preston’s eyes on me, I don’t say a word.

“Great, come whenever,” Preston replies with a wink. “Bring some friends if you want, go wild.”

#

Several hours later when darkness has swallowed up our surroundings, Aiden and I are standing in the same place we were hours before. Delyth and a freckle-faced girl, Samantha, who I’ve never met before in my life--someone else from Aiden’s English class apparently--are also lingering beside us. Aiden thinks bringing more people along with us will seem more impressive. I’ve gotten to know Delyth pretty well recently, and she can be good company. She’s the kind of person who doesn’t care whether you’re listening to her or not because she just likes an excuse to talk, so she’s great if you’re feeling lonely but can’t be bothered to pay attention to anyone. I still can’t decide if she fancies Aiden or not.

As all four of us stand on the porch, I cannot express my shock at how the front door is actually closed for once. I knock it and wait. Aiden’s fidgeting beside me and he hasn't stopped rambling on about how stupid he made himself look in front of Preston earlier. This is his chance to redeem himself, so he says, and I really don’t have the heart to remind him that he isn’t really Preston’s type anyway with him having a penis and what not.

We’re let in by an unfamiliar olive-skinned girl, and as the sudden realisation hits me that I probably know absolutely no one in this party besides the people I’m with--well, two of the people I’m with anyway--I ask the girl for Preston’s whereabouts. She raises her eyebrows and scans me up and down in a manner that suggests I share the same worth as a pile of decaying shit, and then asks for my name. I give it to her, she disappears upstairs for a minute, and then returns having replaced the look of disgust with one of confusion.

“Upstairs, first door on the right,” she mutters.

There do seem to be people downstairs because as I glance over the girl's shoulders, I see small crowds in the hallway. It's all surprisingly a lot calmer than Robbie Morrissey's party and I don't even think there's any music playing. I glance around the hallway just in case, but no one looks familiar so we begin making our way up the stairs.

“This is so exciting!” Delyth chirps as she and Aiden skip behind me.

I glance behind to check Samantha is still here because she has about as much presence as a dead fly. It’s pretty unnerving really. I catch her pale eyes and she shows a nervous smile that sparks a pang of guilt inside me for comparing her to something so gross. As we approach the doorway we were directed to, an overpowering stench weaves into my nostrils, and I know exactly what the smell is within seconds. Before I can say or do anything about it though, Aiden and Delyth have entered the room. Samantha is still behind me.

I hesitantly enter to see Preston lying on a king size bed with some ginger girl attached to his neck via her lips. Sort of like a leech. Another girl at the end of the bed watches on in misery as if her sole purpose in life is to also develop leech-like qualities and suck on Preston’s neck. How attractive. There’s an Eminem album playing faintly in the background, and disregarding the six teenagers slumped onto the cream carpet there isn’t much furniture besides a wooden wardrobe and some bedside cabinets. Everyone in the room is holding rolled up paper with ignited embers, and judging by the smell I’m almost drowning in, it’s not just tobacco.

When Preston notices our entrance he jumps up, almost throwing his leech off the bed, and clambers over some limp bodies to reach us. I stare at the joint in his hand.

“Hey!” Preston grins as if he’s been best friends with each one of us all our lives, and turns to me. “Didn’t think you were gonna come, babe.”

Preston’s eyes are bloodshot, his smile uneven.

“Um yeah, I’m not sure about this... Preston, I--”

“Zack,” he snaps at me. “It’s Zack.”

Right, okay, so the personality disorder’s playing up again.

‘Zack’ nods towards the massive bed he was laying on as a gesture for whoever to sit on it, and Aiden jumps at the chance with such excitement I fear he might explode and disintegrate into a million glittery pieces. Samantha and I stay standing, but Delyth follows Aiden onto the bed. Preston seems to find Aiden’s excitement absolutely fantastic and begins giggling like a schoolgirl. I knew I’d regret coming here but I had no idea I’d regret it so soon into the night.

“Robbie, you ugly little shit, hand these guys a smoke,” Preston shouts as he flops back onto the bed in-between Aiden and Delyth.

I didn’t even notice before, but sitting next to my feet is Robbie Morrissey. He lifts his head at the sound of Preston’s voice, throws him some joints, and then looks questioningly at Samantha and me. I shake my head whereas Samantha nods enthusiastically, catching me off guard. Robbie hands her one and she scurries away to the empty corner of the room without saying a word to me. She sits down and lowers her head, her red hair hiding her pale face, and then begins smoking the thing as if it’s the sole item keeping her alive.

Robbie’s not actually smoking anything himself, he’s just sitting against the wall with a bottle of beer next to him. For whatever reason, that comforts me slightly. I’m glaring so hard at Aiden that I could start burning a hole into his head, yet he ignores my glare completely and takes the lit joint from Preston. He’s taken a drag within seconds. Everyone else in the room either seems to be unconscious or uninterested in me, so I slump myself down next to Robbie. I glare at Aiden one more time as I mutter to myself.

“When we get home, I am going to kick that boy where it hurts so hard that his balls will end up touching his tonsils.”

“Ouch.” Robbie begins laughing beside me, and my cheeks flare as I realise he heard every word I just spoke. He’s still laughing when he says, “Effie, right?”

“Yeah, hey,” I say with an awkward smile as I wonder if he recognises me. Surely, he must do? “How come you’re not smoking that stuff?” I ask as I notice a pile of neatly rolled joints in front of him.

He shrugs with a slightly crooked smile. “I’m not into it, I’m just the designated roller.”

Robbie then demonstrates how to make both the quickest and neatest joint I’ve ever seen, not that I have much experience in that line of work. I'm admittedly impressed with his skill. It’s hardly a quality that will lead him on to achieve great things in life, but hey, it’s something. Zack’s laughter suddenly cackles out, and it catapults me right back to the night of Robbie’s party. He may have redeemed himself since that night, but right now he’s Zack, and Zack makes me feel sick. I knew I’d regret coming here.

Judging by the wary look in Robbie’s pale eyes, every emotion I’m feeling is painted across my face. He nudges me and nods towards the bed where Preston’s leech is once again suckling on his neck. Aiden, on the other hand, is staring deeply at Preston's blonde hair and gently caressing his fingers through it. I’m sure he’s whispering into it. Delyth’s just sitting there having a very in-depth conversation with the lampshade above her, which is nothing new really. That image in itself alters my mood ever so slightly, and I giggle. Too bad it’s irritatingly short lived.

Aiden’s laughing now and it’s almost as grating as Preston’s laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to smack my best friend so hard in my life, and as every second passes, the laughter from the bed increases in both volume and aggravation. My stomach acid begins bubbling as Preston shoves the ginger girl off him and tells her to piss off because she’s apparently boring him. The girl protests, calling him an arrogant dickhead in the process, but Preston just disregards her entirely and begins chatting to Aiden. With her face red with what I can only assume is anger and embarrassment, the girl gets off the bed and storms out of the room.

Who the hell does Preston even think he is? I swear he thinks he’s God’s gift to mankind, though I’d happily assure him that he isn’t. What does he think gives him the right to treat people like crap anyway? If I hadn’t been brought up to be so polite, I would pounce onto that bed and--A loud, sharp whistle interrupts my thoughts.

“Hey, babe!” Preston’s grinning at me. He taps the now empty space beside him. “How about a quick ten minutes?”

That does it for me. I can’t do this. I don’t even care how stupid I look or how much I’m overreacting. Before anyone can blink I stand up, bolt out of the room, and head straight for the only other room I’ve ever been inside in this house. The door’s closed but I don’t even care. Screw the door, it’s a stupid door anyway. I jump onto the childish bed with its childish bedding and slam the childish door behind me. Within minutes of me entering the room, I hear a quiet knock.

“If that’s you, Aiden,” I snap with my eyes locked onto the textured ceiling. “Please piss off and get back to your pissing marijuana with your new pissing friends and your new pissing boyfriend.”

I stay glaring at the ceiling as I hear the door open and close again.

“Contrary to popular belief, I can’t say homosexuality has ever eminently appealed to me.”

I finally turn my head to see Preston, whose previous sloppy demeanour has been replaced with a noticeably more sophisticated one.

“Jesus Christ, we’re Preston now, are we?” I sit up on the bed. “I don’t know who you think you are--neither do you apparently--but you have no right to be such a massive dickhead to absolutely everyone. People are still people, regardless of what name you feel like giving yourself, I mean, you just… just, ugh!”

“Look, I’m sorry, I occasionally get carried away.”

He shrugs, and something I’ve never seen before surfaces in his amber eyes. He actually looks genuine. He suddenly starts giggling again, which destroys the whole thing, but hey, at least it was there for a moment. A groan escapes my mouth as I lean back onto the bed and lie down. No wonder I don’t want to get to know Preston on personal terms, it’s just so much… effort. And confusing. Really damn confusing. I sigh.

“Okay, whatever,” I mutter. “Seriously though, have you ever had yourself tested for schizophrenia or a personality disorder? I’d highly recommend it.”

Preston sits beside me on the bed and chuckles so lightly that it almost becomes a faint, girlish giggle. “If only it were that simple…” He shuts his eyes and lies down. “The more simple we are, the more complete we become: Auguste Rodin.”

I don’t respond, primarily because I haven’t the slightest clue who Auguste Rodin is. After a minute or so I begin thinking a response would have been pointless anyway because Preston’s chest starts rising and falling more slowly. I think he’s asleep. That is until I hear a soft mumble.

“By the way.” Preston sighs. “Has anyone ever told you that your name sounds like an STD?”

“Oh, piss off!”

The only reply I get is a light chuckle disguised among another tired sigh, and within moments, Preston is fast asleep.

* * * * *

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