Kiera
Chapter I
Rated "T"
I
Fifty days before…
"Kiera!" Piper practically screamed as she attacked me in a hug. My soft laugh was cut off by a wheezing noise my lungs made as Piper's strong, yet toothpick-like arms wrapped around my torso, squeezing out the small amount of oxygen I had left. The blonde laughed at my reaction, a smile crawling up to her lips followed by an almost remorse look. "Sorry…" She muttered, her apology as honest as Abraham Lincoln himself – which was becoming an annoying topic for many as I spoke of the man constantly. I wouldn't have gone as far as to say that it was my fault, though, as I was, at that time, studying about him for my presentation in three weeks. History class was becoming a pain for me to handle as I had thirteen other classes, not including what my private tutor was making me do.
I waved away Piper's remorse apology and wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her into, yet again, another air-tight hug. There was something different about Piper and I and our relationship that made every other relationship of mine (specifically friend relationships) unimportant. I knew it was terrible of me to think in such a way, but Piper and I had a connection – more of a connection than even Tristan and I would ever have. But to compare the relationship I had with my best friend to the one I had with my brother was a little idiotic. Especially when you took into consideration the incident that had happened when I was sixteen.
"You look… amazing!" I said, scanning Piper up and down, taking in the sight of her tiny waist in the form fitting dress she wore. To say that Piper had no curves on her meatless body was a complete, utter lie. She might've been almost anorexic-thin, and maybe she might've been a little flat front and back, but looking at her in the dress I had helped her pick out the week before, I had to say she looked good. And whoever said otherwise was going to hear words from me. Though a lady would never curse – a promise I had made to my mother years ago – so, I suppose that option was to be crossed off the list.
"Are you kidding?" Piper spoke, linking her arm through mine as we began walking away from the almost appalling crescendo of voices. "You're the belle of the ball… And plus, it's your party. No one is going to look as good as you. I mean, no one wants to be that girl that forces you to up your game. Though, I do believe, no one would actually be able to pull that off…" She said, her words trailing off as a smile took over her plump, pale, pink lips.
"Besides you?" I laughed, making it sound more of a joke than it really was. If anyone could upstage me it was Piper. She had the ideal thinness for half of the women – young and old – in Crystal Leaf Heights, the money, that fashion designer in her closet, helping her pick out her next outfit. Just for reference, the fashion designer was Piper. That girl would never hire someone to pick out her outfits. Not even me.
"Yeah," Piper laughed, "Besides me…"
"Kiera!" A very masculine voice boomed as a strong arm came to rest on my shoulders, breaking me away from Piper with ease. Tristan laughed, making fun of my sudden, surprised jolt, as he guided me away from the group and to the kitchen, where he, no doubt, would steal all the good food I had helped the chef prepare earlier. "I see you've gone back to your sexist ways…" He muttered, plucking a champagne glass off the silver plate that had yet to be passed around. He took a sip, as if to inspect the quality of alcohol I had decided to serve at my party before downing the rest.
"I object to that," I said, sliding the champagne glass out of Tristan's hand and pushing him softly away from the drinks. It wouldn't be the first time he ruined a party of mine by tampering with the alcohol, even if it was only stealing my choice of alcohol for the evening. "Just because I didn't invite guys over does not mean I'm sexist. It just means that I don't feel like entertaining them."
"Yeah," Tristan said mockingly, clearly not convinced. "Because we're so hard to entertain." He laughed, a short, mocking laugh, and plucked a mini tart off of one of the wire racks.
"Hmm… Maybe you're the one who's sexist." I said, feeling a small smirk play onto my lips. "I mean, after all, you do expect every woman you meet to sleep with you, and want to sleep with you. Oh, wait. That's arrogance and being way too full of yourself. My bad." I smiled, my lips curling up without displaying my teeth. "What makes you think that the guys I'd invite over didn't have the same idiotic idea implanted in their low capacity brains, anyway?"
"Who's sexist again?" Tristan asked, his tone laced with obvious false innocence. His smirk made me upset – more upset than I'd ever admit to him. My brother mocking me like such wasn't unusual, but was starting to become a pain, and it was starting to hurt me, for a reason I didn't want to let on. The chiming of a bell from the living room broke Tristan and I out of our ongoing war, the sound of my party planner's voice echoing off the plaster and tiled walls.
"I believe that is your ride." I said, hearing the faint, familiar pattern of a honk from outside as the noise in the living room calmed down. "Have fun at the strip club. At least I believe you'll have fun, considering that you are… you." Tristan huffed, his dark brown eyes meeting mine before he decided to roll them.
"Hilarious. I'll tell Dad you said 'Hello.'" Tristan's emphasis only angered me more as he leaned in to speak, as if it were a secret between us. Secrets were common, of course, especially between Tristan and I, but they weren't like normal secrets – ones I'd willingly keep for Piper or even the ones about my mother. No. The ones I had about Tristan were coming out sometime. I just had to wait for the right time.
"Please do." I muttered, picking up a glass of champagne and watching the golden liquid swirl around the edge of the glassware as I moved my hand. Tristan stopped at the edge of the hors d'oeuvres table before turning around and taking a step towards me.
"Oh, one more question before I leave for dinner with Dad. What exactly is your purpose with this party when you've got no guys to sleep with? It is your eighteenth birthday. Just saying, it's kind of sad…" Tristan said, as if he actually cared what I did for my eighteenth birthday or my eighteenth birthday party. I smirked at his question, already having figured out my retort for his obvious mocking and stupid question.
"Oh, like how you spent your eighteenth birthday party? I'll pass." There was a flicker in Tristan's eyes as he recalled his eighteenth birthday party. I couldn't help but reminisce the memory as well. The alcohol, the drugs, the police… I had to give it to myself, though. Through all that hell being groped by Tristan's friends and being questioned by the police when they shut down the party at three in the morning, I did good work not being the one (or ones) to get arrested. I also played that victim card pretty well for fifteen year old.
"Yeah, because what happened upstairs with that Polish chick wasn't awesome." I almost cringed at how much sarcasm he dared to put into the word "wasn't." Yeah, I got the point. Tristan got "laid" during his birthday party. By a Polish girl. Whose name was Estek – not like Tristan would care or remember, though, or even care to remember what happened after they messed up the master bedroom in the west wing.
I rolled my eyes, thinking back to a day a few weeks later when Estek called, announcing the news that, if I remembered correctly – which I did – did not go over well with my dearest brother. "You got her pregnant. My question is how you call that party awesome when you slept with a girl who ended up with child."
"Easy. You forget about the boring parts and remember the highlights," was his quick answer. I rolled my eyes, noting how two-faced he was at times. Cunning when he wanted something – whether it was sex or a new car – and then totally… a jackass. Though, I'd never say that out loud. Oath to my mother, remember?
"So…" I muttered, rethinking his previous statements so I could repeat it back to him. "So, you remember having sex with her, but you forget that one, you got her pregnant, two, you lost your mind when you found out and three, she got an abortion because she didn't want to have a child with you." Tristan's facial expression went slightly blank for a moment as he thought it over.
"Yeah." He finally said, his word coming out as a breath. His expression changed as quick as ever as I heard another honk. "What the hell am I doing? I don't have time for this!" He practically shouted as he shook his head and flung his suit jacket over his shoulder. "We'll talk about this later. But for now, shut the hell up about it, okay?" His pointer finger was aimed at me as he walked backwards towards the door. I rolled my eyes and visually crossed my heart with my finger to indicate that I would, in fact, follow his wishes.
By the time he was gone, one of the servers I had hired for the night was just walking into the kitchen, his eyes widening as he looked at the two empty champagne glasses. He ushered me out into the living room where I received strange glanced from a few of my guests before meeting Piper's eyes and taking the empty seat next to her.
A slim, dirty blonde eyebrow was raised when she opened her mouth to talk. "Let me guess," She spoke with a smirk, her fingers no longer kneading the white fabric napkin as she threw it onto her empty, decorative plate. "Tristan's being… Tristan?"
I pushed a lock of black heat-curled hair behind my ear and sighed, smoothing out the surface of the silk skirt of my dress. "Yeah…" I breathed. What could I say? Tristan was always going to be Tristan, though the way Piper said it had much more mockery than I dared to ever speak myself. "Who knew that my brother of all people would be so worried about my eighteenth birthday? And I don't mean in the way my mother would." I noted how sarcastic I sounded, and toned the amount down for not only my sake, but for Piper's as well. "Tristan basically gave me a whole lecture on how I need to have fun this time. I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing, though, that he noticed that I had not invited any guys over."
"Calm down, Kiera. He's only trying to help you." Piper said with a smirk. "I mean, I know it's my job and all, but I don't mind that he's trying to help you get, you know, laid for your birthday. It's your eighteenth birthday, K. We're finally getting out of high school, summer's coming up… I mean, it's still not legal to drink, but when has that every stopped us?"
She had a point. Of course Piper had a point, when didn't she? It was my eighteenth birthday. We were almost done with high school; graduation was in less than a month. In the fall, I was to go to The Florence Academy of Art in Florence, and Piper was going to Central Saint Martins in London. We had just over the summer to spend time with each other, even less taking into consideration that we'd both need about a month to settle in to our new apartments overseas. As much as I wanted to get away from Tristan and my father, I couldn't just leave Piper without bringing insane memories with me to tell my new friends. Piper and I sneaking into clubs and bars and drinking until we couldn't tell the sky and the ground apart wasn't enough. I mean, Italians drank wine with everything. Sixteen year-olds drank wine with dinner. How did cosmos and martinis add up to what they had daily?
"You're right…" I admitted, letting out a breath I had not realized I had been holding. "We're not going to be here much longer, anyway, so why not just go crazy while we still have the chance?" Piper smiled and placed a hand on my thigh, shaking my leg gently as she leaned in.
"That's my girl…" She whispered, low enough so the girls at the table wouldn't hear, or anyone else for that matter as the party planner continued to verbally map out the night – activities, drinks, and meals included. "When do we start with crazy?"
"After finals." I said, feeling quite uncomfortable with my answer. Finals was two weeks away, over a week after my birthday. Neither Tristan nor Piper would be happy about that, though I was still completely unsure why Tristan actually cared as he had never done anything this irrational before. That was a complete lie. Tristan did a lot of things that were irrational, but this was number one in the sibling category.
"That's two weeks away, Kiera." Piper said, her voice slightly strained as if she were holding in something. I managed to raise a brow through my confusion, but I still must've had a look on my face as Piper continued. "I can't wait that long," she deadpanned. I wasn't surprised by her tone or even the speed at which she stated it. I was more surprised that she, Piper, my best friend, was anxious for the event. Seriously. How important was it to her to lose her virginity? She'd only been waiting eighteen years, and half of those years neither of us even knew what sex was. Maybe a little less for me as my brother had "matured" – if you could call it that – at a young age, resulting in my father being fine with him watching adult films. And no, it wasn't porn. It was just rated "R."
"Why are you so anxious to you know… lose your virginity?" I said, lowering my voice at the last part so the rest of the girls wouldn't hear. Despite Piper being my best friend and me being one of the most popular girls in both school and Crystal Leaf Heights, that didn't stop some of the girls I knew – and had invited, mind you – to make fun of both of us for that single reason. Yeah, I promised my mother a lot of things. No swearing, no having sex before marriage, no drinking underage… I had already broken one of my promises, and I was most likely going to break another soon enough, though my reasons for postponing it was to prepare myself for the guilt I was most likely going to feel once the deed was done. I had my guilt of my drinking promise, and that hit me hard. I wouldn't let this probable broken promise tear me down like my last one.
"Woah. Aren't you anxious to lose it too? Come on, K, you can't tell me that you haven't been waiting for this moment. I can hardly believe that I waited this long. God forbid I wait any longer." I avoided Piper's gaze and refolded the napkin on my plate before unfolding it and restarting.
"I-" I choked on my words as I tried to let them out. I hadn't realized how uncomfortable it was to talk about the subject until I had to explain myself to someone else. I had heard plenty from Piper, and enough from Tristan, and even some from my father – when he actually cared to keep us away from what he had previously thought of as sins – but explaining it myself was slightly embarrassing, note the redness crawling up onto my cheeks.
"Go on…" Piper encouraged, her voice soft as if to coax me into telling her my problem with the… situation. Piper knew well of the promises I had made to my mother. She knew more about them than my father did – and if anyone knew anything about my relationship with my mother it was him. But Piper forgot things. A lot of things. And one of those things was my promises. The other was my guilt when I broke them. I didn't want to break, yet again, another promise to my mother, but I didn't want to seem too good for anyone either. I mean, sneaking into clubs and bars and such was close enough to what Piper wanted to do. I'd go as far as to say that it was right along the line, so why did I have such a hard time accepting it? I had plenty of other things I had promised my mother – most of them I knew I'd keep. I'd never to drugs. I'd never kill anyone. I'd never become a prostitute, thank God. And I definitely would never let anyone tear me down like he did on my sixteenth birthday. Oh, and another promise: I'd never let the past define my future. So why did this one promise matter to me anyway?
"I made a promise, remember?" As soon as I said it, Piper's eyes flashed with remembrance and devastation. Of course. What else would she remember when I made a promise other than my mother and her death. Technically it was murder, but she was still dead either way.
"Kiera…" Piper said, a sad smile crawling up to her lips. "I'm sorry. I'm pushing way too hard, aren't I?" I swallowed. Yeah, I thought. It was true. She was pushing a little hard. So was my brother, though I did admit that Tristan had that face, that face that made you want to believe him, which was, at times, hard to resist, even though he was, in fact, my brother, and siblings were never honest with each other. At least in my experience, which wasn't as extensive as Piper's, for sure.
"It's fine." I said, brushing it off like dirt on dark jeans. "I'm just stressed about finals is all. I mean, this is our last testing period in high school, I don't want to fail or anything. You understand, right?" It was lie. A white one, but still a lie. I was stressed about finals, that part was true, as was finals being our last tests for the year – and the last tests in high school period. But that still wasn't the reason I was on edge about the subject – which was touchier than I still liked to admit.
"Of course I understand. That reminds me. Sunday brunch? History finals study?" Piper asked, a hopeful look plastered onto her face. I smiled, feeling slightly relieved of the sudden emotional change of the atmosphere.
"Sure. Abraham Lincoln?" It wasn't much of a question as it was a statement, despite the way I said it. Piper groaned as she leaned back in her chair and, once again, threw her napkin onto the table.
"You're going to kill me with this Lincoln stuff. Even Honest Abe, himself, would hate how much you talk about him." I smiled at Piper's hatred for the subject of my history presentation. The clear friendly hatred lightened the mood as well as my dark and heavy emotions, which was always something I could look forward to while I was around her.
"If Honest Abe were here, that would be a guaranteed 'A' in Hester's class. And also, if he was here, he wouldn't care about how much I talk about him. He was president. Everyone in the middle eighteen hundreds in the U.S. talked about him." I said, only getting a mere roll of the eyes from Piper.
"Whatever. We should probably join a group though. Someone might think that you've become anti-social." Piper said, glancing around at the groups of girls who were in the middle of their activities. I nodded in agreement, as Piper was correct. It was my party, after all. I couldn't just leave my guests to playing silly games in their own secluded groups without the host joining them for little while. "So, attempting painting or creating hors d'oeuvres?"
"Better idea," I said, smiling at Piper before glancing at the few groups of girls again. "Both."
