four ;
h a l e

HALE WAS KISSING A pretty blonde girl, and all he could think about was the fact that someone was playing Stupid Hoe.

It was such a fucking dumb song, and it was somehow putting him even less in the mood than he had already been. The girl he was kissing, whose name had entirely eluded him, was pressed up against him with her arms twined around his neck. Her fingers were curling through his hair and his hands obligingly slid down the narrow dip of her waist, gripping her hips lightly. He knew all the right moves to make, all the right places to touch, but it was all preplanned and thought out.

Oh, man. He was so not turned on.

He thought his plan had been going pretty well. He'd ended up at the pool with Calla and a bunch of others from his school, perfectly contented to chat while he searched for someone to hook up with. The blonde girl was easily one of the prettiest ones at the party, and even better, a complete stranger who attended Woodway High School. The perfect chance. It had taken little more than a glittering smile and few careless compliments to win her over.

She was nice, too, but that didn't really help with his attraction to her. They were currently holed up in the corner of the living room with the girl - he mentally labelled her as Blondie until he figured out her name - curled up against him, tugging Hale closer with her hands. She whispered his name again his lips (oops, she remembered his name) and her mouth slowly began roaming down the length of his jaw, peppering more light kisses against his skin.

Well, at least she was a good kisser. Not that it was making this any more interesting.

He opened his eyes out of boredom and absently glanced around the living room while Blondie continued moving her mouth down his neck. As the night wore on, more alcohol had been spilled and more inhibitions had been lowered, until it got to the point that 99% of the guests were at least slightly drunk. It meant the chatter and laughter and music was ten times louder, with people swaying wildly out of tune to the music as some form of dancing.

Hale could see a game of beer pong was taking place on the ping pong table in the next room over, through the open double doors. Will was refereeing the match, a very drunk referee yelling bad calls from the side, as four guys aimed balls at the cups of beer. Hale was more than a little surprised to see that one of the players, on a team with Elliot, was Brooks. His usually tidy caramel hair was mussed up and he was doing surprisingly well at the game.

"Hale?" Blondie pulled back with a frown, and Hale realised in his distraction he'd made the mistake of dropping his hands to his side. "Is something wrong?"

Just that I'm not even remotely bothered whether I make out with you or not. "Nah," he lied, extracting himself from her grip. There was no point faking it anymore when he could at least be enjoying the party. "You know what? That was fun. Now let's play beer pong."

She blinked. "What?"

"Contrary to popular belief, this isn't the only kind of entertainment I provide," Hale said breezily, gesturing between them to indicate the kiss. "I'm also an exceptional beer ponger, as you're about to find out."

She tagged along behind him as he made his way over to the game. A pretty large crowd had gathered around to watch the "match", cheering and encouraging the "players". Hale sidled up alongside Will and Oli, who both grinned in greeting. "You've missed the best round ever, man!" Will exclaimed. Everything just got louder with him when he was drunk. "Dylan has downed so much beer he'll be pissing the stuff."

"Yeah, his team is losing so badly," Oli chuckled, a milder and more moderated version of the other guys. "Elliot's team are smashing them. And the new guy? He just appeared out of nowhere and started tossing the balls like he was dropping them through hoops."

Hale looked at this supposed new guy, Brooks, who was lining up to take his shot. He couldn't remember ever seeing him at any parties before and idly wondered why he was appearing everywhere Hale went, creeping into his head and surroundings. His bright gaze was narrowed with focus, and he just about to take his shot when his eyes suddenly darted up to Hale.

There it was again, that startled deer in headlights look. He missed the cups by a long shot, and a loud groan of disappointment went up from the onlookers.

Elliot slung a friendly arm round his shoulders. "Next time, my man, next time."

Since when were they so buddy-buddy? Hale was positive none of his friends had ever spoken to any of the nerds at school, forget Brooks.

"Looks like your lucky streak's finished," Markov taunted, exchanging an unearned smug look with Dylan. There were only two cups left on their side of the table, whereas Elliot and Brooks still had ten left to clear on their side. "Ready to taste defeat?"

"Ready to stop chatting shit? Me and Brooks here are going to whoop your sorry asses, right, mate?"

Brooks was still staring at Hale, which Hale hadn't broken eye contact with for some reason, but he snapped out of it to look at Elliot. "Yeah," he said, his mouth tugging into a endearingly shy smile. "I'm pretty sure we already are."

Elliot burst out laughing at the bold statement and Markov just rolled his eyes, lobbing his ping pong ball. It curved wide and bounced off the edge. "Miss!" Will unnecessarily yelled. "Point to Elliot's team!"

"What?" Dylan demanded. "That's not how the game works, fuckwit."

"Uh oh." Will's smile was a little blurry at the edges, and positively wicked. "Are you questioning the judgement of the referee? Is that what you're doing, Romanov?"

Dylan looked exasperated. "You're not even - "

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Will raised the unused ping pong paddle in his hand and banged it against the table like some kind of twisted judge calling his jury to order. "You're up, Hufflepuff," he said, winking at Elliot and ignoring Dylan's protests. "Don't disappoint."

"Dude," Elliot said, looking genuinely affronted. "I'm not a fucking Hufflepuff. I'm clearly Slytherin."

Will snorted. "Keep dreaming, you 'puff."

Elliot snatched the ball from his hand with a scowl and straightened his shoulders, sticking his chest out like some kind of preening peacock as he threw the ball, clearly trying to win his pride back. Hale missed where the ball went, because Brooks kept glancing at him and it was proving bloody distracting to pay attention to anything else. Every time their eyes met, the contact lingered a little longer than before.

Finally, it got too much for Hale, and he leant forward towards Brooks. "You seem awfully fond of my face," he said, lowering his voice so only he would hear. "Not that anyone would blame you, but take a picture. It lasts longer."

It was supposed to be a joke, but it was only after he'd said it that he heard the flirtatious undertones that came a little too close to the pick up lines he used on girls. Brooks must have heard it too, because he turned bright red and quickly stepped back, almost stumbling in his haste. "I-I need...need a drink," he stammered, looking anywhere but at Hale. "Um, now." He shoved his ball against Hale's chest until he took it and heat uncurled where his fingers touched him. "Sorry."

Hale stared after him and then down at the ping pong ball he'd been left with. What the hell was that about? It hadn't meant anything, that offhand comment, but his heart was beating a little too quickly and his palms were tingling all over in a way that left him feeling a little too jittery. It must have been the alcohol. It had to have been. Someone had probably slipped something in his drink when he wasn't looking, and that's why he felt so strange.

"Well, are we doing this or not?" Hale shoved down all the funny feelings and forced his gaze away from the spot Brooks had disappeared to raise an eyebrow at Elliot. "We still have a game to finish, Hufflepuff."

"Hey," Elliot said, his sullen tone verging on petulant. "Call me that and I'm kicking you off my team, prick."

"Get fucked," Hale smirked, not even looking as he flicked his wrist. He knew from the splash and loud cheers that he'd made it. "You think you can pull a victory without me?"

Turns out, it didn't take much more to pull a victory. Hale had stepped in at the perfect moment to steal the game in the bag, and somehow managed to steal all the credit from Brooks, who never returned. Even while he took the congratulations, he couldn't help wondering where he'd gone. Not that it meant anything to him. He didn't even know the guy - it was none of his business.

He snatched the cup from Will's hand. "Hey," Will said in half-hearted protest, watching as Hale downed the contents. "Is thievery cool now? Is that what you do now, Hale? Steal your best friend's drinks?"

Hale shuddered at whatever had just gone down his throat and grimaced at the now empty cup. "What the actual fuck did you put in that, Will?"

"Oh, you know." Will waved his hand dismissively. "Malibu. Vodka. Rum. Little bit of whiskey and beer. Oh, and a dash of lemonade."

"You're disgusting," Hale said, but he was grinning. It had tasted vile, sure, but he already felt better. Like he could forget completely about the fact that his thoughts kept straying to that random nerd. "You've been drinking this shit all night and you're still on your feet?"

"Don't question the Chinese genes, sweetheart."

"I thought Chinese people got the Asian flush," Oli said. "Isn't that a thing?"

"Have you ever seen Wendy drunk? No, of course not," Will said brightly, settling a parental arm across Oli's shoulders at his innocently confused expression. "So, the year is '13 and Wendy's stolen a bottle of mummy's expensive champagne. Next thing you know..."

Hale had already heard that story. Spoiler alert: Wendy turned so red off the champagne her parents got scared she was having an allergic reaction and it was only when Will spilt the truth that they didn't take her to the hospital. He looked around for the blonde girl he'd been entertaining earlier, but she'd disappeared. Whatever.

He left the new players to their game of beer pong and cut through the living room to the swimming pool, deciding to check in on how successful Wendy's attempts at protecting her pool were. To make things clear, Wendy hated him. She hated all of Will's "neanderthal meathead" friends. Will pretended he couldn't care less, but Hale knew his more silently protective side was glad his sister stayed away from them.

The first thing he saw when he entered the pool room was a girl puking in the corner, in a nice potted plant. Guess that was the end of the plant's life life. Wendy was, unsurprisingly, caught in a heated argument with a vaguely familiar looking brown guy. "Of course we chlorinate it," Wendy was saying, hands on her hips. "What, you think the whole family is as dirty as my brother?"

"Woah, woah," Hale said, joining them. The brown guy glanced dismissively at him and rolled his eyes, as if his very presence was offensive in some way. "As Will's best friend, I feel obligated to defend his honour. Why so cruel, Wends?"

"Brilliant," Wendy said scornfully. "Now you're here."

Wendy had never fallen victim to his charm like any of the other girls had. It was something that made him like her even more, that no matter how smoothly he flirted with her, she had nothing more to offer him than a shake of her head. Wendy would never risk her grades or dream of studying at Oxford for guys. Or girls. Whatever floated her boat, really; it wouldn't be all that surprising since she'd never shown an interest in dudes before.

"Someone pissed in the pool," the brown guy said in a bored voice. "I was wondering how she was going to clean it."

"Someone," Wendy echoed, shooting Hale a dirty look, as if he was the one who'd done it. "More like that brickfaced asswipe Alec, the one on your football team. He's throwing up outside."

"What's with the stink eye?" Hale tugged a lock of her short black hair and just laughed when she batted his hand away with a disgruntled expression. "Alec isn't my responsibility. Not my fault he can't hold his liquor."

The brown guy rolled his eyes again. "Aren't you supposed to be with Calla?"

It was such a random change in subject that it took Hale a couple of moments to figure out what to say. "Calla? No," he said slowly. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I'd tell you but...I think someone else wants to talk to you first."

Hale followed his gaze to see Anjali making her way towards him, looking lethal in pointy black stilettos that could probably poke his eyeballs out. She looked nice, that was undeniable, but Hale wasn't feeling inclined to admire her long brown legs or shiny black hair when he would be better off fearing for his life. The gleam in her dark eyes was positively murderous and he had nowhere to bolt to this time, beyond the urinated pool.

He muttered a few choice curses in Spanish under his breath but had a lazy smirk fixed in place when she reached them. "Anjali, long time no see. How's life been treating you?"

"More like, you've been avoiding me," she growled, jabbing him in the chest. Wendy snickered under her breath behind him. "What the hell is your problem? You snog me, fine, but now you're not even interested in that. I figured you could at least deliver that without fail."

"Hey, chill out," Hale suggested, which was in hindsight the stupidest fucking thing he could have done. Anjali nostrils flared with evident indignation and she reared back like a viper, seconds from biting. "It's not a big deal, 'kay? I'm not big on the commitment thing. We had our fun but now it's over so...nice talking?"

"Wow," Wendy muttered under her breath. Hale wanted to ask her why the hell she was still here, eavesdropping on this clearly private conversation, but he didn't really care that much about having an audience. At least he had witnesses if Anjali tried to drag this back on him.

Anjali had flushed a deep, angry red. "It's because I'm brown, isn't it? Don't do Indian girls, huh?"

For a rare unexpected moment, Hale was stunned into silence. If she'd called him a dick or asshole or any other range of rude insults, there'd be a quick remark on the tip of his tongue and he wouldn't have thought twice about it. Because he kind of was a dick. But being called a racist was so far from the truth, from what he was, that he was temporarily rendered speechless. He recovered quickly but wasn't in the mood for teasing anymore.

"You're joking," Hale said flatly. "Tell me your joking. Do you see what colour my skin is?" He held a hand up in the space between them. "Do I look white to you? No? Because I'm not, and I don't choose who I like based on their skin. I'm not interested in you, not because of your colour, but because I simply have no interest in you. Understood?"

It was Anjali's turn to be startled this time, her eyes wide and alarmed. Even Wendy looked a little taken aback, although the brown guy who'd silently been watching the exchange looked as bothered as if they'd been discussing a football match. "Sorry," Anjali mumbled, having the grace to at least look embarrassed about it as she averted her gaze. "I didn't mean..."

"To call me racist? Yeah, well, you did."

She opened her mouth and closed it again, her face red for an entirely different reason how. Hale wasn't interested in sticking around to watch her flounder for something appeasing to say, and he left the pool room without another word. He knew he'd probably blown up over nothing, taking it a little too personally, but that knowledge didn't ease the tightness in his chest. He wished something so small didn't bother him as much as it did.

Hale pushed his way rather unceremoniously through the people gathered in the house, not in the mood to chat to anyone now. Luckily, no one tried to talk to him, most of them too smashed to string together a coherent sentence. He made it to the hallway, which was empty apart from two people half stripping on the stairs as they made out. Hale waited a beat but they were too engrossed in each other's company to notice.

"Public nudity's against the law," he said in a loud voice, clearing his throat. "Take it to a bedroom. Preferably not the guest room, because I'm sleeping there."

They broke apart abruptly in a scramble to locate the clothing that had gone flying, and Hale almost laughed. It was the blonde girl he'd been kissing earlier. She obviously recognised him too, because the sheepish look on her face morphed to one of horror. "Oh, h-hi," she stuttered, out of misplaced fear. Hale couldn't care less what she got up to and wasn't going to start getting offended. "It isn't what - "

"Take it to a bedroom," he repeated, pointing up the stairs. "Preferably now."

The guy tugged on her hand and with one last glance back, she followed him upstairs. He dropped down onto the step they'd just vacated and stared glumly at his hands. They were strong and broad, from years of sports that required manual dexterity, the palms roughly calloused from gripping a lacrosse stick. His skin was a faded caramel brown a few shades too dark to be a tan, acquired from his mother.

It wasn't just Anjali's comment that had bummed him out, not really. He'd been feeling down for a while now, which he'd been trying to ignore by getting drunk and hooking up with girls. Clearly, neither of them were working. He could still feel alcohol buzzing through his veins and blurring the world a little, but he was still far too sober for his liking. Hooking up was even worse of a solution.

Kissing girls wasn't bad. He didn't not like it, and there were worse things he could imagine doing. But he'd heard his friends go on about how amazing so-and-so's lips felt, and the lengths they'd go to just to pull someone, while Hale just didn't get the hype. Had he just not met the right person? But he'd kissed so many girls he'd lost count of the number. How could none of them be right?

Was there something wrong with him?

He was pulled from the downward spiral of his thoughts when someone stumbled down the hallway. His eyebrows shot up at the familiar mop of caramel curls and bright blue-green eyes. But his eyes weren't looking at Hale; they were dazed and trying to focus on his feet, which he almost tripped over before catching at the wall at the last second to right himself. Hale didn't realise he'd stood up, but he was there to grab Brooks' elbow before he almost walked into the door.

"Oh dear," Hale said, more amused than anything. "Someone had a little too much to drink."

"I am not," Brooks said indignantly, seemingly unaware that the sentence made little sense. Despite an unfocused gaze and slight slur, he seemed pretty clearheaded for his terrible balance. "I just...didn't see the door there, okay? I thought it was a bit more far..." His nose scrunched up in confusion as he considered his words, "...further away."

Hale smirked. "Whatever you say."

Brooks tried to pull away then, but his body was either too confused from the alcohol or he just wasn't strong enough to break free - the latter of which was more likely, as far as Hale was concerned. Hale didn't relinquish his hold and Brooks looked at him with furrowed brows, as if to tell him off. Then he saw who had saved him from walking into a door and his expression slackened, his cheeks turning a furious red.

The wide eyed deer look was back and Hale was beginning to wonder whether it was exclusive to him.

"You," Brooks said dumbly, almost an accusation.

Hale raised an eyebrow. "Me," he agreed, with a bemused look. "Is there any reason I found you trying to grope Will's front door?"

Brooks, if possible, turned an even brighter red and glared unconvincingly at Hale. "No! I mean, no, I was not groping anything," he blustered on, still looking indignantly angry in a drunken way; at the door, at Hale, at everything. "That door got in my way. I was just going along my happy, unblocked way and this...this bloody door - " he shot it a baleful look, " - got in my way and I...why are you laughing at me?"

And Hale was laughing, loud chuckles he didn't even bother to hide, because he'd never seen someone so serious about their irritation towards an inanimate object. "Because you are one fucking weirdo," he snorted. "Did you really have that much to drink, or are you just a lightweight? I bet you'd just a lightweight. You look like you'd be a lightweight."

Brooks jerked his arm away with a scowl, and Hale let him go this time. "Stop laughing at me!"

"Why, so you can start yelling at the floor for getting beneath your feet?"

Hale cracked up all over again at his joke, but Brooks didn't seem to appreciate his comedic genius. "I'm going outside now," he huffed, blinking at the door a few times before tentatively reaching out. He found the handle on the third attempt. "You, Mister I'm-so-cool, can stand here and...and..."

"And what?" Hale said with a sly smirk. "Laugh at you some more?"

"Fine! Do whatever you want. Not my business. It's a free country."

He yanked the door open with a little too much force, and looked a little doubtful at how dark it was outside. Then he seemed to realise Hale was still watching him with some considerable amusement, who rolled his hand in a mocking go-on gesture at Brooks' hesitance. Brooks, much to Hale's surprise, stuck his tongue out before storming out of the house and slamming the door behind him.

Hale was left staring at the door with two options. Return to the party and enjoy himself as much as possible for the rest of the evening, courtesy of alcohol and music and laughing at how stupid his friends were when they got drunk. Or, he could follow the drunken nerd stranger outside into the ass biting cold.

It should have been obvious which option he chose. No question about it. Not even a shadow of a doubt.

"God, I'm an idiot," he told himself in Spanish, before turning away from the door.