twelve

                                    

                                          
 Cleo's POV:
  "I'm going to go get another drink," I say uncomfortably.
  Harry peers down at me, "Are you sure? You've already had quite a lot."
  "Yeah, I'm sure," I say, exiting the room quickly.
  I can't stand Ian, and I have no clue why Harry hangs out with him. He is a scum bag and the two of them are complete opposites; their friendship makes no sense. Every time we're around him, I'm afraid he's going to tell Harry about Jonah, especially in situations like these where alcohol is involved. So far he hasn't said anything, and if I wasn't such a realist, I'd think that maybe he was going to let it go. But I know Ian Drake, and that isn't going to happen.
  The crowd in the kitchen is even more compact than the one in the living room, and it takes a few shoves to get past people. I make my way to the counter where dozens of half empty bottles of alcohol await. I choose the bottle of McCormick and pour some into a shot glass, throwing it back. The instant burn in the back of my throat has me gritting my teeth and searching the area for a chaser. I find a bottle of orange juice and mix the two drinks in a plastic cup. I take a sip and am pleasantly surprised by how perfect it is - usually I have to add more orange juice because there is way too much vodka, but not this time. I turn around to go back to the pong table when a firm hand catches my elbow, spinning me around.
  "What the-"
  I stop mid-sentence and stare up into familiar blue eyes that I haven't seen in over a year. My mouth falls open and I'm speechless. While my brain tries to think of something to say, my eyes take in his appearance: usual snapback and t-shirt, jeans that don't fit quite right, and that beaming smile that never falters.
  "Well, aren't you going to say 'hi'?" he asks, laughing at my expense like always.
  I roll my eyes and smile up at him, "Hi, Niall. How are you?"
  He takes a sip from his cup before waving a hand dismissively, "I'm alright. But let's talk about you! How are you? We haven't talked in ages."
  I shrug, "I'm good. And yeah, sorry about all of that..."
  "All of what? You mean, dropping all of your friends and going into hiding for a year?"
  "Yeah... That."
  "I can't say that any of us blame you, though. I don't know what I'd have done had I been in your situation. Yeah, it was an awful time for us all, but you had it the worst."
  A chill runs up my spine and I shake my head, "I've been trying to put it all behind me, so let's talk about something else."
  Niall nods understandingly, "Of course. Anything new and juicy you'd like to tell me?"
  I laugh, "You've always been one for gossip... But, there's not a whole lot to tell."
  "And you've always been such a bore," he teases, bumping my shoulder playfully.
  I scoff, "Sorry I can't live up to the exciting life of Niall Horan."
  He beams with pride, "We can't all be this awesome all the time, it's true."
  I smile for the umpteenth time since we've started talking, "I really have missed you."
  "I've missed you too, Cleopatra."
  I cringe at the horrible nickname but wrap my arms around Niall anyway. It has been too long since I've talked to my old friends - especially him - and it feels great to have part of my old life back, no matter how brief. After a few seconds I let go and stare up into the face of one of my biggest regrets, a pang of guilt echoing throughout my entire body. Cutting off people who really cared about me was the biggest mistake I've ever made - it wasn't their fault Jonah died, but I certainly treated them like it was.