Impulses without regret

Impulses without regret

A Story by Emmeline Sarah

An undesired party, and a bad decision with no accompanying bad feelings. Just a short narrative essay for my own enjoyment.


I was terrified.  My heart had done that final lurch right before I stepped inside Suranne’s  gate, and now I was overcome with a numb sense of “what the hell have I gotten myself into, oh s**t’’.

Any self-respecting teenager would look at the scene and scoff, as my mother was at that very moment standing right next to me and introducing herself to Suranne’s mom.  Not really a typical portrait of rebellious, but I could almost feel the comfort zone crack as I stepped out of it. My mom hugged me goodbye and I watched her drive away. That’s it, no going back now. I turned to Suranne who grinned and nodded to a tight circle sitting opposite the pool.

“I just need to go grab something, you can introduce yourself.”

No need to throw me into the deep end.  I started to walk over, my thoughts running like a steam train, and suddenly, as I had hoped it would, I switched on.

Suranne is a screw-up. A nut job.  She scares me, but somehow when she was still at school, she decided that we were friends. I never had the guts to refuse and ended up going along with a friendship that I’d otherwise never have gotten myself into.  Even with that in mind, I have a strange sense of trust around her. It would all be fine because here,  I could literally be whoever the hell I wanted to be.  None of them knew me, and Suranne wouldn’t judge anything I did.  My path to the group was direct and my walk confident. My thoughts briefly landed smack bam on Max, and I felt that same sizzle of undeserved resentment. I had no idea why I was irritated with him- perhaps due to our horrendous communication and his holiday which was now bordering on two weeks. He would never expect me to be at a party on New Year’s Eve, I realised with smug satisfaction. I knew what kind of a person I was- innocent, and sheltered and introverted and generally opposed to new experiences. I also knew that there were equally strong traits to oppose those very pathetic characteristics- the characteristics that I could tap into only in certain situations, that reminded me of the kind of person I had the potential to be.

I tapped into them now.

All usual anxieties about my body disappeared as I saw an overweight unattractive blonde guy sprawled on a chair, and the resident social butterfly from our school’s male counterpart, Clay. I had never met him, but I knew of him and had deducted from copious photos that he was not in great shape. Suranne too was what one would generously describe as “curvy’’. That left only the figure facing away from me, hunched with indeterminable weight. I wore a plain black dress, but it was short and suddenly my legs felt like limbs that I wanted to show off.

“Hey there!’’ God, I was so cheery.  The three faces peered up at me.

“I know none of you, wow. I’m Emily,” I seated myself on the one available chair and smiled. “You are?...” I asked the fat one.


I looked at Clay and decided to feign shock as I excitedly told him that I knew EXACTLY who he was, oh my goodness, did he know X, Y and Z, because I was friends with them too, I’d heard so much about him and always wanted to meet him, what a crazy situation, wow.

Clay was highly receptive and I ticked one guest’s acceptance off my mental social list.

I could now get a clear look at the boy opposite me. My initial thought was that he shouldn’t be here.  Suranne typically adopted the misfits and uglies, but this was one was a textbook good-looker. Bordering on frat boy chic, but redeemed through his mop of wonderfully curly, messy dark hair.

“I’m Jason,” he extended a hand out. Smiling, I reached out to receive the gesture, but he pulled away.

“It’s Jasen with an e.  And that’s very important. You cool with that?’’

Converse trait number one: sarcasm.

“An arrogant white boy, with equally obnoxious spelling of a generic name?  Of course I’m cool with that, I’m not a heathen.”

He laughed, and I ticked off another name. If only Max could see me now. That’s the problem, I get so timid around him; he hasn’t seen this side of me since before we started dating. The realisation that I could be that girl here, all night, was suddenly the most exciting prospect. I could see Suranne walking back to us, holding two plastic bags and I let everything go.

*  *  *

To the jubilation of my newfound party instructors, I was now on shot number three. The best part of these times was keeping some of my adorkable “girl next door” charm, and I had subsequently “admitted” to my lack of experience with alcohol.  Suranne was overcome with distress and had proclaimed herself my new drinking godmother.

“’I promise we’ll look after you, and you can just have a little bit, just enough to feel tipsy, you’ll be absolutely fine I swear.”

Yes, my first taste of alcohol was groundbreaking and revolutionary, especially considering that it was about my fifth first taste of alcohol. Max thinks I don’t drink, but I do now. Sure, it was due to the helpful aid of truth or dare.  Nonetheless, I felt stupidly pleased with myself.

“I’m bored,” Suranne announced.

“Don’t look at me,’’ Jasen shrugged, with a stretch backward.

Cameron looked around pointedly.

“Anyone hungry?”

Of course, you’re hungry, fat lump, I thought. The subconscious always makes a cameo appearance at moments such as this.

 Cameron’s question, however, generated a clear and almost unanimous response of YES, and thus we found ourselves squished into his tiny audi to go and get McDonald's.

 Teenagers are disgusting, I thought suddenly. Oh well. I didn’t have to participate in the consumption of grease and e-numbers. The alcohol had burned my throat, and now it sat in my stomach and burned there. I wasn't hungry. The car reeked of adolescence and I loved it. Cameron drove haphazardly and music blasted at a totally unreasonable volume. Clay and Suranne had intense conversations over me, as I sat in the middle of the backseat. Jasen turned to me at one point and gave a small laugh. I stuck my tongue out at him and he pretended to blow me a kiss. Such fun.

We reached the intercom and a hurried census took place to get everyone’s orders.

“Emily?” Jasen asked.

“Nothing thanks.”

He smirked. “She’ll have an Oreo McFlurry.”

“Jasen, I don’t want anything.

We had a brief moment of eye contact.

“She’ll have one large Americano,” he amended. “Make it extra bitter,” I heard him mutter.

*  *  *

There lay, a desolate and sad sight. One bottle of absolut skyy vodka, empty and discarded.

It took less than a minute for Clay to suggest spin the bottle. Hearty agreements all around the circle.

“Our options are hideously limited,” Suranne pouted.

Jasen considered, and replied, “First spin, just a kiss. The second spin, you go inside for ten minutes.”

This cheered Suranne up greatly

“WAIT!” all heads turned to look at Cameron. 

“Anyone here in a relationship?”

Clay snorted, Suranne laughed and Jasen shook his head.

“No,” I said. I felt disgusting and dangerous. I didn’t care, I didn’t want to. This is what being a teenager is right? Kissing random people at parties, stupid relationship dramas, and heightened emotions. I was so bored and it all sounded so appealing.

Suranne suggested that I start off, as I was the experience baby of the group.

The blue bottle landed on Suranne. She squealed and planted a big squishy kiss on my lips, with the accompanying exclamation about how cute she’d always found me. It felt like a kiss from a deranged and alcoholic aunt. Clay matched with Cameron, Suranne with Clay, Cameron with Jasen.

It was so stupid, I thought. Such hilarity and excitement over a dumb game. And I was highly affected. My heart was racing, skin tingling and my stomach ached. Hunger and alcohol merged into an uncomfortable nest for nerves.

Jasen flexed and pretended to warm up before his turn.

“Get over yourself Lovett,” Cameron grumbled.

Jasen gave him the finger and elegantly spun the bottle. He didn’t spin very hard. Two rounds and it landed on me.

I turned to my left and looked at his face. He was hot. Not really my type, but undeniably attractive. He tilted his head, put his hand on my cheek, and placed a soft- oh so soft- kiss on my lips. I smiled back at him, and thought of my awkward, rushed fumbling with Max. Kissing him was a routine requirement, it didn’t exactly spark any excitement on my behalf. He never held my face- but that had felt so tender and invigorating.

I took the bottle and spun it hard.

Squeals erupted from the group and Clay guffawed. Jasen stood up immediately with a grin on his face, holding out a hand for me.

I stared at the bottle and the next ten minutes awaiting me.

Was this cheating?

I took Jasen’s hand because I didn’t care.

“Have fun you two!!” Suranne yelled. “There are condoms in the bottom drawer!”

I could feel myself blush profusely as Jasen held a thumbs up above his head.  Inside the house, I realised I had no idea where to go. We couldn’t just stand in Suranne’s entrance hall. Jasen pulled on my hand and led me up a flight of stairs. A small door atop the landing opened into a large attic bedroom. It was decorated as one would expect a teenage burnout’s bedroom to be. The wall was plastered with pretentious band posters and surrounding fairy lights cast a dim glow on a mountainous pile of empty cigarette boxes.

“Damn,” I said, without thinking.

Jasen followed my gaze “You don’t smoke?”

“Don’t have the money or the will to die, thanks,” I retorted.

Jasen seemed to find this funny, and it suddenly occurred to me what a loser this guy was. After a quiet laugh, he nuzzled my neck, breathing onto the exposed skin and causing goosebumps to erupt over just about the entire surface area of my body.

Cheater Cheater  Cheater Cheater Cheater Cheater  Cheater Cheater  Cheater Cheater Cheater.

Jasen kissed my neck softly and gently began to direct me to the large bed in the center of the room.

“I have a boyfriend, I lied and I’m sorry.”

Jasen didn’t miss a beat, separating himself from my neck and looking up at me.

“Okay… but if you didn’t say it there … I doubt you really wanted me to know… so if you want, then I know nothing.”  With the first pause he placed his hands on my waist, and with each one after that, he pulled me a little closer to him. Our bodies were pressed together and my head felt strangely clear.

I was about to cheat on my boyfriend.

But I didn’t care, so it didn’t matter.  For once, I felt confident. Jasen was gorgeous and by some miracle, I felt gorgeous too.  I was itching for some drama, some tension, something I could keep a secret.

I looked at him for a few seconds and pushed him onto the bed. I straddled him and placed my lips on his and I kissed him. He kissed me and we kissed until I felt his hands start to work their way up my shirt. By then, my inhibitions had disappeared. I stopped counting down from ten.


After all, I didn’t really care.




© 2018 Emmeline Sarah

Author's Note

Emmeline Sarah
any criticism is appreciated, constructive or insulting.

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Added on January 2, 2018
Last Updated on January 2, 2018
Tags: kiss, party, spinthebottle, cheating, alcohol, teenagers, angst


Emmeline Sarah
Emmeline Sarah

Johannesburg, South Africa

Founding Father fan, and regular guest at the federalist party. Musical enthusiast. Exercise junkie. In a closeted relationship with my academics. more..