Written for the 2020 750 Words Challenge. An attempt to tell a whole story in very few words.
Alex's twenty-first was a huge party, but odd. Most guests ignored Rapeyfucker McBastardface. His school gang pushed drinking games, strip poker, and perved on fresh 'meat'. Us later acquaintances socialised separately in his parents' welcoming house.
Alex's little brother, finally eighteen, visually Alex's clone, flirted rather successfully with my friends. Sweet, good-hearted kid.
By midnight, Alex was fuming; young Bob had ladies swarming. Alex didn't, whinging, "nice guys come last..."
Alex tried guilting me,
again
, into sex. "Come on, Cassie! You fucked my best mate, after all!"
Terrible logic. Yes, I'd bedded Duncan - in the going-to-sleep sense. He'd
wanted
to shag, sure, but assured first-year virginal me, "nothing you don't want!"
I'd pleasantly surprised him, allowing snogging and roaming hands. A stranger's hand holding his dick quite satisfied him. Next morning - I'd declined any further action - he'd explained, "Enjoying a hand job? Or being a rapist? No contest!" He leant back and appreciated the former.
Duncan avoided Alex, since. Awkward; their parents were friends. Similar for me - my mum eventually stopped matchmaking, but we'd been "such close housemates, you
can't
leave him out..." Thing was, no-one had damning evidence. Just a general miasma of sleazy rumours.
"Piss off."
"You heard her." Bob supported me, nervously.
"Girls! No manners... Invite them to great parties - think they'd offer
summat
in return!"
Replacement bezzie Ed grunted, too Neanderthal for speech.
Then Duncan's voice: "What, you want payment in sexual favours? Not really an invite, then! Ordering hookers, more like..."
Ed raised fists; Dunc's defensive forearm welcomed them.
I interrupted. "I came because your
mum
asked. And Bob's nice." Implication by omission.
Bob blocked Ed; Duncan and I exited swiftly. Alex's mates occupied the lounge - we joined rival, better, parties gathering outside.
"How's life, Cass?"
"Graduated... starting junior-doctoring next month. Single, though. You?"
"Break-up, couple months gone... Working, a start-up, summer off..." Meaningfully: "So - you don't need to get up tomorrow morning, either?"
Dreadful, unsubtle chat-up line. But - both single, he'd rightly deduced I wasn't a virgin after uni...
"No. Where're
you
sleeping?"
