Spin the Bottle

Spin The Bottle is the third episode of the first season of LetItRock898 and Lead The Careers' hit fan fiction, Our High School Is Better Than Yours!, and the third episode overall.

Joey and Shan eventually go on a date behind Delilah's back, and share different reactions. Delilah holds a huge house party and soon, chaos is unleashed and havoc is reached; alcohol is spilled and drugs are taken, and two unfortunate guests become the victim of the liquid devil.

OHSIBTY! Season 1, Episode 3: "Spin the Bottle"
The shrill yelp of the bell ricocheted across the empty hall, and suddenly the gloomy hallways were engulfed in movement, as the heavy doors swung open and a prison of students spilled into the corridors, partnered by a burst of sound.

Mau fought his way through the crowd, elbows sinking into his sides, backpacks colliding with his face, wrestling madly with the other excited pupils to get to the cafeteria first. His stomach had actively protested against its emptiness several times in the previous, inviting many weird looks from other pupils and resulting in a deep crimson blush staining his cheeks. The lack of breakfast that morning was to blame for his hunger.

"Yo, Mau!" he heard the familiar, musical voice of his best friend. Nasia sauntered towards him, clutching a monstrous stack of books to her chest, wobbling in an exaggerated pair of heeled thigh-high boots. Mau smiled, and also stumbled towards his mate.

"Hey, Nasia," he grinned, and greeted her with a swift handshake. She immediately whipped out her phone from the shallow pocket of her jacket and flicked open an online game, drawing both their attentions to the gadget nestling in her palm. Nasia's slender fingers rapidly tapped the screen in various places, the scoreboard flying up, winning with extraordinary ease. It was only when Mau collided with the heavy cafeteria door that they realized they were starving.

"Hey, Mau!" Mau's head snapped up at the sound of his younger sister's call. She stood at the salad bar, rifling through a wooden bowl of fresh fruit, beckoning her brother to join her. "Come and join us for lunch! I'll pay!" Unable to resist a free lunch, he rushed over to the nearest empty table and settled against the cushioned seats, his stomach screaming again.

A couple minutes later, Ellie gracefully swept across the slippery floor, clutching a tray cluttered with neat bowls of salad and fruit and chips, already munching on a carrot stick. She reached the table and slammed the plastic board onto the table, and all three began hungrily eating.

The heavy door of the cafeteria swung open, knocking a poor, unsuspecting freshmen from his feet; in strutted Delilah, her silky locks yanked back in a tight ponytail, the sound of her heels echoing off the walls of the dining room. Her left hand enclasped a thick wad of colored papers, adorned with a string of words in a fancy font, and as soon as she neared a table, she began dishing the sheets out in swift moments.

"What do you think she's up to?" muttered Nasia, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the strips of card.

"Who knows," replied Ellie under her breath. "Maybe a party?"

Suddenly, Delilah was in front of the trio, hands on her slim hips, tossing a page at each of them. Ellie caught hers, tearing it slightly in the corner, and her eyes skidded over the words.

THE PARTY OF ALL PARTIES!

Come to the party of a lifetime!

They'll be music, games, food and - best of all - booze!

Feel free to bring your own refreshments!

Just go to 24 St. OHSIBTY Lane tonight for the time if your life!

Ellie scoffed in disbelief as she read the text, and tossed the invitation back to the hostess. "No thanks, I'll think I'll pass."

Delilah suddenly slammed her palms on the table, silencing the encompassing tables, and leaned into Ellie, a menacing look adorning her face.

"Listen, bitch, this is the only chance you're gonna get to gain my trust back; if you still want to get your locker TP-ed again, or you want to get beaten up every day, be my guest," a quiet yet scary growl built up inside her chest. "But, like the leaflet says, if you want to have the time of your life, I suggest you come to my house tonight. See you there." She rose and strutted away, tossing leaflets across the corridor.

"What's her problem?" enquired Mau as soon as Delilah had left, tucking into a chicken sandwich happily.

"Ugh, I stole the cheerleading captain spot from her. Not my fault that Callie prefers me," replied Ellie, also hungrily  snacking on a large bowl of fruit salad.

"Don't worry, she's been in the Power Squad ever since she came here - the coach adored her. She was Captain until you came along," butted in Nasia, neatly cracking open a can of cola.

"That explains why she hates me so much, I guess," Ellie rummaged in her salad, picking out bits of kiwi fruit and tossing them aside.

"She's a spoiled bitch, to be honest," muttered Mau, and the two girls nodded in agreement.

"And I have no problem saying that to her face," the two girls chorused, and burst into fits of laughter afterwards.

All the boys' heads turned as Sam strutted through the hallways, hands on her slim hips, blonde curls tied up in a loose ponytail, figure adorned by a red cheerleading dress. She'd done it - she'd joined the Power Squad. Callie had loved her, so she had gotten in like a shot.

"Lookin' good," hissed a passing jock in her ear, followed by loud wolf whistles from the rest of his crew which brought a grin onto Sam's pale face.

"Yo, Sammy!" a call attracted Sam's attention, and she looked up to see Delilah leaning against her locker, beckoning the new cheerleader to join her. Sam smiled and jogged towards the brunette. "Hey, looking good, girl!"

"Thanks," said Sam, blushing.

"Your popularity scale is gonna be off the charts from now on, trust me," grinned Delilah, and slipped her arm around her buddy's shoulders, leading her off to their next class. "Hey, I'm having a party at my house tonight, loads of people will be there - you coming?"

"Is there gonna be booze?" questioned Sam.

"Yes," smiled Delilah, delight rising in her voice.

"Delilah, I'm a Christian. I don't drink, I don't smoke and I don't have sex until I'm married. If I go to that party, somebody's going to spike my drink, and then I'll wake up in bed with a boy I've never seen in my life. I'm sorry, I just can't take the risk."

"Ugh, you're no fun!" hissed Delilah, accompanied with a swift roll of her soft eyes. "I'll make sure no one spikes your drink - we have cola and lemonade, don't worry. And...and I'll make sure no one leads you to the bedroom. I'm sure no one will, if you're sober."

Sam's curved eyebrows raised at her friend's last remark, but she kept her tongue still - she knew how much it hurt  to be slapped by Delilah.

"What's your address?" Sam finally asked after a long, awkward silence.

Delilah grinned eerily. "24, St. OFIBTY Lane. Across the corner from the greengrocers. See you there at nine?"

"Yes, I'll...I'll see you there."

"You miss it?" Joey sat on the uncomfortable stands which surrounded the football field, arm bandaged up tight and secure, Shan at his side.

"No," he answered her question, yet tears were already welling up in his eyes. Shan wrapped his arms around him,  seeing that he was upset.

"Yes, you are. And it won't help you, watching. Come on, a month isn't that long. It will fly by," said Shan, attempting to be optimistic, yet it did nothing to alter her boyfriend's mood.

"I need a distraction. Everywhere I go in this stupid school there are jocks hanging round, teasing me, shoving my shoulder."

"Then... at lunch, we can sneak out. Hit the downtown bar. Get a drink or two."

"Neither of us can drink, genius," scoffed Joey, shaking his head.

"Does it matter? Listen, I know for a fact that there's a jock who has a bottle of vodka in his locker, and I'm pretty good at lock picking. It's free period in ten minutes - I'm missing Science for you, you know! - and lunch in half an hour. Let's just go downtown, no one will notice."

Joey glanced at his girlfriend, uncertainty in his expression. Her smile and eyebrows lifted, and her grip around his shoulders tightened.

"Fine. Which bar?"

Tom sat at the burnished desk, scribbling sketchy drawings in his notebook, paying no attention to what he was supposed to be learning. The teacher's voice was a constant, irritating drone; an insect hanging round the air, desperate to distract him from his haze. The fourth lesson was the most boring, and Tom had been forced to take it. Trails of ink stained the lined page as the irregular doodles began to take shape. Not even the teacher dishing out test papers interrupted him, or her harsh tone as she reprimanded a fellow student.

"Tom, shut that book!" The dark silhouette of Mrs. Appleton, his strict, stern teacher appeared at the side of his desk, dressed in what looked like Victorian-era clothing, half-moon glasses balancing on the bridge of her pointed nose. Her wispy hair was pulled up in a tight bun on the top of her scalp; wrinkles adorned her sagged, drooping face and her voice spoke raspy and chesty. "Turn to page thirty-six in your research book, like the rest of the class." She shot him a dagger look then strode to the front of the class, hand curled as if a cane sat in her palm.

A musical chuckle attracted him, and he glanced behind him to see Ellie at the door, a few minutes late. She scanned the room for an empty seat, and Tom beckoned her over to the disused chair next to him. She managed to get to the chair as the teacher's back turned.

"Good timing," whispered Tom.

"Thanks," hissed Ellie back, hurriedly searching through her crowded backpack, pulling out random notebooks with vibrant covers and neat lines. She suddenly glanced over at the doodles which adorned his papers. "You're a good artist."

"Oh, thanks," replied Tom, desperately resisting the blush rushing to his cheeks, and hiding one of the drawings under his palm. He swiftly checked that his hand hadn't smudged the ink - it was a portrait of her, and he most certainly didn't want her to spot it. "My mom managed to fix the jumper that you slashed," he hissed, and Ellie chuckled.

"It was a weird jumper anyway," she muttered, yet still smiled. "Besides, you called me weak."

"Well, I didn't know you had bloody claws!" he hissed back, a little too loud, as Mrs. Appleton's ears pricked up and she swiveled round, inspecting the class. The pair stayed silent, yet every pair of eyes in the class stared accusingly at them.

"But you still called me weak," Ellie resumed the conversation as Mrs. Appleton turned her back once more.

"I actually said, I though you wouldn't win that fight," he fought back.

"If you and Joey hadn't split it up, you would've seen that I would have won!"

"Yeah, but I didn't want to take the risk of you ending up in the bloody hospital wing!"

Ellie paused, unable to come up with a decent response, and diverted the subject.

"So, what lesson is this? I'm only here 'cause the hall monitor told me to come here."

"Geometry," replied Tom, putting his biro to the notepad and scribbling again.

"Geometry?" asked Ellie, a hint of disbelief in her voice. Tom nodded innocently, and suddenly Ellie swooped down and grabbed her backpack, shoveling all her notebooks into the sack. "F!ck this sh!t, I'm getting out of here. Worst lesson ever." She turned to her friend. "Joining me? I'll come up with an alibi for both of us."

Tom hated Geometry, so he seriously considered sneaking out and bunking off, yet he needed the grades. He failed Geometry often, and his parents were extremely pissed at his constant fails.

Then again, he would get spend the afternoon with Ellie...

"Alright, let's go," he hissed back, and was rewarded with a beaming smile of dazzling, white teeth; the teacher's back was still turned, so they hurried out the door and into the gloominess of the corridor.

Delilah's house was huge.

The mansion loomed high into the inky, star-strewn sky, standing tall and proud, casting eerie shadows on the neat front garden and yellow footpath which led to the gargantuan front door, decorated with a weird-looking lock.

Inside, the house was full of dry-ice smoke. Colored lights played over the floor and easily penetrated the fog, turning it into a multicolored fairyland of blues and acid greens, hot pinks and golds; the lights were dusky, bright enough for you to see the person you were talking to, but not bright enough to be able to see three or four meters in front of you. Music poured out of each speaker at max volume, sending vibrations round the floor, wobbling each object of furniture. A huge coffee table, adorned by plastic cups full of peculiar-colored liquids, stood in the center of the room, and a mini-bar plastered to the corner also contained many slim, color-tinted bottles holding a variety of drinks. Long tables outlined the colossal room, each embracing a rather large buffet of snacks and treats, and one held an over-sized bowl of bright red punch.

Sam was the first to arrive, her hair pinned up in a beautiful style, adorned in a deep purple, sequined dress, black tights and matching violet pumps. Delilah was dressed very differently - her hair fell past her waist, primped and curled with care, her slender physique dressed in a crimson silky dress which barely passed her thighs; thin black tights, and blood-red heels. And the first word which came to Sam's mind when she saw the host was stripper.

"Hey, how you doin'?" sang Delilah as she answered the door. "You look great! Come inside!" Delilah led Sam through the labyrinth of dark corridors to the party room.

Sam exhaled in awe as she reached the room. "It's...it's beautiful," she whispered, staring into the magenta light which targeted her.

"Yeah, it's not half bad. Here, come and have a drink," Delilah caught sight of Sam's raised eyebrow. "Don't worry, I stocked up on cola just for you." She produced a huge bottle of a fizzy brown drink from behind the minibar and unscrewed the top, backing away as the bottle let out a large gasp. Sam grabbed one of the empty cups from the table and Delilah filled it, and the two settled by the bar.

"So, when are the rest getting here?" enquired Sam, sipping the juice. Delilah grinned and glanced at the fancy wall clock which hung next to two portraits.

"In three... two... one..." As the last word left her gloss-caked lips, the house was engulfed in the chime of the doorbell. Sam scoffed, impressed, and Delilah left her in the room. A few minutes later, she returned, accompanied by a gargantuan group of students.

A gently country tune rolled out of the radio of the downtown bar. The room wasn't very crowded, approximately half of the round tables were occupied, and several people were at the bar, ordering small drinks.

Shan and Joey sat at the edge of the bar on the high stools, sipping tall glasses of cola, an awkward silence between them that refused to be broken. Joey leaned on the white surface of the bar, head nestling on his arm, slowly breathing out.

"You okay?" Shan attempted to start a conversation.

"No," breathed Joey, his face as plain as a sheet of paper.

"Listen, Joey, you need to stop beating yourself up over your accident," hissed Shan, slamming her drink down. "It's not your fault. You haven't been kicked out of the team - the coach said you can go back on as soon as your bruise has healed. And the nurse said that it's healing well."

"It's not that, Shan, it's just..." Joey sighed again, and straightened his back. "I'm betraying Delilah, being here with you. I should we at that stupid party she's holding; we both should."

"I highly doubt she wants me there..." Shan rolled her eyes. "But that's what you're freaking out about? Delilah? Joey, if you loved Delilah, would you be here with me? Would you have kissed me at the hospital? Would you have been giving me long-lost glances across the hallway between lessons?"

"That was you, giving me the glances, actually," said Joey. "I mean, Delilah slapped you 'cause you were looking at me."

"She's a paranoid bitch, Joey, and we both know it!" she hissed through gritted teeth. "You aren't happy with her, I can tell. She's controlling, she's paranoid, she's violent. I bet she doesn't even love you - she's probably using you for her popularity, which she's very protective of, if I may add."

"You think?" he asked, his face muscles softening.

"I know," she whispered, and placed one hand on his cheek. "I love you a lot more than she does." Then she moved in, pressed her soft lips upon his, and the night became ten times better.

The door was flung wide open, so Ellie and Tom stepped into the crowded corridor of Delilah's mansion. Ellie immediately choked on the swirling columns of dry ice filling the air, yet she carried on through the darkness into the huge party room.

"Wow, it's awesome!" breathed Tom as the stumbled into the room, coughing a little on the fog. Just as they managed to push past a pair of snogging students, Delilah sauntered up to them, clutching a full bottle on pure, neat vodka.

"So, you made it," she grinned evilly at Ellie, and nodded at her. Then she turned to Tom. "So, you're the guy that broke up our fight," she hissed, then turned on her heels and returned to the bar. Ellie and Tom faced each other, then burst into laughter at Delilah's dumbness.

"She's mad," laughed Ellie as swooped down to the coffee table and enclapsed her fingers round a cup full of a weird liquid. Tom's smile instantly faded.

"Ellie, you're fourteen, you shouldn't drink that. It looks like vodka and coke," warned Tom, attempting to snatch the cup out of her hand. Ellie dodged it with ease.

"Who cares? I'm here for a good time. Grab a drink and relax - you look like you need to!" then Ellie sauntered away into the sea of dancing students, gulping down the liquor. She grimaced a little at its unfamiliar taste, but after a few more drinks, the taste was now delicious.

The clock chimed one o' clock in the morning, and still the house was packed with drunk students. Girls tossed their hair, boys flicked their hips and sweat poured off bare skin. Delilah sat on the minibar, making out with several guys. Ellie sat outside on the grass, gazing up at the stars, possibly the only sober attendant at the party.

Now people were getting extremely drunk. Ellie had spied Delilah scraping a pile of white power across the minibar, and a team of jocks snorting it. That's what made Ellie race outside and sober off - she didn't want to end up taking drugs.

Sam climbed the stairs slowly, gripping to the handrail, her head spinning and refusing to stop. She stumbled at every step, her mind throbbing, groaning in pain and resting her head against the smooth wall in an attempt to calm her over-active brain. She was bordering between slightly sober and full on drunk. Her vision blurred and her hearing went every few minutes, and she could hardly feel her legs, yet she kept going on. Delilah said she could have a nap in the bedroom, and that's exactly what she intended to do.

The bathroom door opened, and Sam saw a rather attractive sophomore emerge from the room. She ignored him, and put her foot onto the last step.

Suddenly, her legs went from under her and she slipped, arms flailing, flying forward. She felt a strong, athletic arm clasp around her waist and balance her on her face on the top step, and she was greeted by the handsome face of that sophomore she had just seen.

"Geez, are you alright? You were... were just about to fall to your death!" he called, also slightly drunk.

Sam stumbled again whilst still in his grasp. Her vision blurred, her hearing died, and all she could focus on was his beautiful face. She leaned in and pressed her lips upon his.

Tom immediately went to pull away, yet the alcohol in him urged him on. He returned the kiss, lost in a confusing world, not quite sure what he was doing exactly. Yet he couldn't stop.

Sam's hand curled around the cold doorknob of the master bedroom.

THE END