FicWad

1981

Nadia freed her curls from the hairband she was wearing and nervously adjusted them. It was almost midday and Hugh and James were late. It was to be expected, probably, she should have foreseen it and finished reading the book by herself. She sighed. In that case, she would have had to explain it to the other two guys, who hadn't read it for sure.
She examined her hair and discovered a few split ends. It was time to go to the hairdresser; she would have to tell her mom once she came back. At seventeen, stick thin with gangly limbs and barely any curves to grace her body, Nadia looked like she had just hit puberty (and dressed like an old, blind nun, the rumourmongers said).
Whenever a relative, a little old lady or whoever else wanted to pay a compliment to her physical appearance, they always talked about her hair. Luscious, thick, soft, golden blonde locks that twisted in perfect ringlets. The only beautiful asset she had between a set of otherwise unremarkable features. Nadia took great care of her hair. She had grown to hate it, but she tended it meticulously nonetheless.

The bell rang and Nadia ran to answer the door. It was Mrs. Weir, her next-door neighbour, coming to check on Nadia as requested by her parents.
“Hello darling, how are you today? Have your parents called you?”
“Good morning Mrs. Weir. Everything's fine, my parents are fine too.”
The two women chatted for a little while, discussing about Nadia's homework and her grandfather's recent surgery, when Hugh and James showed up.
The blonde girl panicked; she hadn't told about them to Mrs. Weir or her parents. Two boys alone at home with her? That would be unacceptable; she knew Mrs. Weir would invite herself to her house, or invite them to hers. She had quickly discarded the thought about the possibility to avoid Hugh's bullying by having Mrs. Weir's supervision. First because there was good probability she wouldn't recognize it as such, like too many adults didn't; second, it would be too embarrassing and Hugh would make her pay for it at school.

Nadia wasn't a good liar. She had conveniently omitted the Hugh and James detail, but she couldn't make up some believable excuse out of hand.
A quick glance at the blonde girl's face was all it took Hugh. He patted Mrs. Weir's back and greeted her boisterously, throwing the middle-aged woman off centre.
“Good morning madame, are you here to meet with our Nadia too? She is such a good girl, isn't she?”
Mrs. Weir coughed, adjusting her glasses. “Nice to meet you, young man. I don't think we are familiar.”
“Oh no, but my friend here and I are very familiar with sweet, sweet Nadia.” Hugh replied, smacking his lips, “Intimate, I dare day.”
“They're here to study.” Nadia hastily explained. “We have homework to do.”
“But Nadia, you parents are not here.” said Mrs. Weir. “You can't have two young men at your home, it's not appropriate.”
“Would you like to join us, madame? There's always space for one more. The more, the merrier, for our girl. She never complains.” Hugh said, grinning like a madman.
“No, I... I'll come to check on you later.” The woman said, a little confused by the boy's exuberance. “I'm sure I can trust you, Nadia.”
“Have a nice day, madame.” Hugh dismissed her, pushing Nadia into her own house, quickly followed by James.

The blond girl was a statue of salt, shocked by Hugh's gall. “You're unbelievable.”
“Thank you, I do my best.” He said, bowing a little. “Your guard dog seems nice, pink cashmere cardigan and all.”
“That's Mrs. Weir. If you get me in trouble with her...”
“She'll spank you with a carpet beater? Kinky, can I watch?”
“She'll tell my parents!” Nadia shrieked. “I don't want to be grounded or else.”
“Yeah, better not yank the leash.” The boy replied, ignoring her concerns.
Nadia frowned. Not fifteen minutes had passes and she already wanted to bang her head against the wall. “You are late. You should have been here hours ago.”
“We were on time. But when Hugh came to pick me up, I was playing some riffs and he wanted to work on them.” said James.
“He's a riffmaker, this guy.” Hugh patted James's shoulder. “Why don't you show us your room? We can study there.”
“We can study here in the living room.” Nadia replied
“I'm sure your bed is much more comfortable, sweetheart.” Hugh pinched her chin.
“Ugh, wathever, come with me.”

“Hey James, watch it, our girl's got a computer.”
Nadia nodded. “Yes, it's an Apple II Plus. I had to do six months of houseworks to have one for Christmas.”
“Cool. Got games?” James asked.
“Technically, I should only use it for studying. My parents say that videogames are a useless waste of time.”
“What?! Fuck that, the only good reason to have a computer is for gaming.”
“There's many interesting things you can do with a computer; for example, I like to log in to a Bulletin Board System. But you have to watch the clock if you don't want the phone bill to skyrocket.”
“You can what to what?!” Hugh looked baffled at her.
“I... I can connect with other computers and... and talk about things... with people.” Nadia stuttered, blushing profusely. “Well, I do have some games.” she said, trying to recover, “But I can only play when my parents aren't home.”
The girl stood on a chair and took some books off the higher shelf of her bookcase. She reached inside and retrieved a few floppy disks.
“This is my favourite one.” Nadia showed the boys a copy of 'The Prisoner'.
“Watch out, we've got a rebel here.” Hugh mocked her. “Let's play it.”
“No, we need to write the book review.” she said, but Hugh snatched the floppy disk out of her hand. “Hey, give it back!”
“Relax, it's almost lunchtime, we can't study now. Why don't you prepare something for us as we play the game?”
Nadia was puffing, red in the face. “I'm not cooking for you!”
“You know, you really have no manners. We are your guests and you're acting like a jerk. Isn't it, James?”
James nodded. “You're not being a good host.”
Nadia bit her trembling lip. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... but if you hadn't...”
“Now, do we want to spend the afternoon blaming each other because you can't take a joke? We can start reading after lunch, there's no hurry.”
James and Hugh sat at the computer and played while Nadia cooked a quick meal. “Don't cry, you idiot.” she told herself, fighting back her tears. “Play it cool and everything will be fine.”
Play it cool. She thought again. I'm a frigging idiot.

“So, where's the booze?” Hugh asked. “C'mon, show us your secret stash.”
“We can't drink, we're seventeen.” Nadia replied, toying with her napkin.
“Of course we can. How are we supposed to swallow this slop otherwise?”
Nadia blushed embarrassed. She knew that her cooking was less than adequate; it had always been, much to her mother's consternation. “My mom makes some great iced tea. Would you like to try it?”
“Sure, why not?” Hugh said. When Nadia went to the kitchen to get the tea, the boy took out a drinking flask and showed it to James. “Hey man, why don't we get our blonde broomstick drunk?”
“Are you willing to sacrifice your booze for that?” James chuckled. “Besides, won't she notice it?”
“I bet she gets drunk at the first drop of alcohol.” Hugh replied. “It'll be worth it.”
When Nadia brought a carafe of iced tea, Hugh asked her for some slices of lemon and spiked the tea while she wasn't looking.

“Mmm, this tea tastes funny, mom must have changed the recipe.” Nadia said after taking a sip of her drink.
“I think it's good. Don't you agree, James?”
The blond boy nodded. “Yes, very tasty.”
Nadia finished her glass, poured herself another and gulped down half of it. Hugh and James could barely stifle their laughter.
They pushed the girl on the couch and turned on the TV. “Let's relax a little before studying, all right?” said Hugh, pouring another glass of tea for Nadia. She accepted it without protesting and stared at the TV screen with a vacant expression.

Hugh and James walked into the kitchen to find something else to eat, both agreeing that Nadia was the worst cook they had ever had.
“Hey, what's this?” asked James, picking up a paper sheet hung on the fridge. It was a plan for the weekend signed by Nadia's parents that the girl was supposed to follow. They had organized her daily routines in great detail, hour after hour.
“Now I understand why that girl is so downbeaten.” Hugh murmured.
“She's what?”
“Downbeaten? Beaten down? Whatever, you know what I mean. It all starts at home...”
James shrugged and opened the fridge, turning up his nose. “Fuck, there's only vegetables and healthy food in here.”
“Never mind that, I've got an idea: we close blondie in her bedroom, invite some friends, and ask them to bring food and booze.”
James briefly considered the idea and grinned. “Tell them to bring some records too, I doubt they listen to any good music in this house.”

When James let her go, Nadia plopped down on her bed gracelessly; she was drunk, but not hammered. Alcohol had made her dizzy and loquacious, though her speech was slurred an unclear.
“You think it's safe to just leave her here?” James asked.
“Where else do you want to put her? She'll be fine, don't worry.” Hugh replied, sticking the last glass of tea into Nadia's hand. “Now let's go make some phone calls.”

Halfway through the party, Hugh and James had already forgotten about Nadia entirely, until the blonde girl emerged from her room, leaning on the wall to walk. She stumbled various time and finally fell on the floor while trying to reach a table, almost taking it down with her.
When she hit her head against the table and started crying, Hugh and James took her back to her bed and made her drink from a bottle of water.
“I hope she falls asleep quickly.” Hugh said. “We have to keep an eye on her, though, God forbid she ends up like fucking Bon Scott.”
“Yeah, we don't need a dead girl on our conscience.” James replied.
“All right, you can take the first turn of babysitting. I'll relieve you in an hour.”

Nadia was whining and sobbing, holding her head; the girl was obviously a teetotal, probably she had never touched a drop of booze before. James snickered and made her drink some more water, remembering the first time he had drunk so much he had dropped down unconscious. The blond boy had never woken up in a hospital for alcohol poisoning, but he knew he had come damn close it it.

“You are shitty friends.” she whimpered. “The shittiest.”
“We're not your friends. Nobody seems to be.” said James, passing her a packet of crackers. “Eat this, it'll make you feel better.”
“I used to have friends, but they left me.” Nadia sniffled, taking a cracker and munching it slowly. “Turns out that stepping on other people's head is the best way to climb the social ladder. And remember to put down those who stand below, to prove you've successfully raised above them. Otherwise, someone could start having doubts about your loyalty to the gang.”
James hummed, hoping she wouldn't start rambling about her sad life story. “Oh, but they're walking on eggshells. All in all, they're just honorary members. The moment they stop smiling and nodding at everything, they'll fall from grace and get kicked out of the club.”
James was tempted to leave Nadia alone in her room; she was recovering quickly and sounded quite coherent. He knew she wouldn't dare venturing outside and put an end to the party. She wasn't assertive enough even to reclaim her own house.

“Why are you such a douche to me?” Nadia asked.
“I'm not the one who bullies you.”
“You don't even bother to stop it.”
“I don't even bother to care.”
Nadia fixed her red and puffy eyes on James, but they showed no anger, nor hurt. “Why me?” she asked simply.
“I don't know, it's not me you have to ask.” James shrugged. “I guess you make it easy.”
Nadia jumped to her feet but fell back on the bed a second after, moaning and holding her head.
“Keep eating and drinking your water.” James said. She shot a malevolent glance at him, but did as she was told.

They didn't talk for a while, just lied on the bed staring at the ceiling, when Nadia broke the silence.
“Do I have to earn it, to be treated with respect? Do I have to figure out by myself how to do it?”
James sighed. “I don't...”
“Have you ever wanted to hop on a car and leave?” she interrupted him. “ Just... leave everything behind?”
He turned around to face her. She was staring at him almost pleadingly. She was looking for some understanding, some sign of empathy. James simply nodded; he knew how she felt. He could give that to her.
“I wish I could do that. Jump on a car and drive away from my life, from things how they are now. I don't think there's anything I value more than the possibility pick up yourself and go your own way.”
James took a look at Nadia's bedroom. Stuffed animals ordered in line, a white writing desk, lots of pink and flowers, nothing on the floor or out of place. At first glance, it didn't look like the bedroom of a girl who yearned to escape from her life.
“I'm going to travel around the world one day.” He said. “I'm gonna be a rockstar.”
Nadia chuckled. “Well, more modestly, I'm going to college.” she sighed and closed her eyes.

A high, feminine shriek came from the adjacent bedroom. James snorted. Probably Hugh was fucking one of his various girlfriends in Nadia's parents' bed. He was good at pleasuring girls, very good indeed, and that was the only reason why they came to him. Not that he actually cared about the girls he bedded; to him, being a good lover was merely a matter of pride.
Hugh had been the one to buy James his first copy of Penthouse and show him a diagram of the female genitals. When he had discovered he was still a virgin, he had made him sit down and gave him a long, detailed lecture on sexual intercourse, and promised to pay him a prostitute for his eighteenth birthday.
The moaning from the next room became louder and more frantic. James knew Hugh wouldn't come back to watch over Nadia, who had now drifted off to sleep.

Tired of doing nothing in the bedroom, James rolled the blonde girl on her side and wandered out of the room. He noticed that most people were already gone; probably they had other plans for the evening. The house wasn't in too bad a shape; he thought it should only take Nadia about an hour to tidy it. Maybe he could help a little and throw away the empty bottles.
“Hey James, come here.” Suzanne, a girl he knew, called him from the kitchen. “Look at this.”
There was a woman dancing on the kitchen table; she had no shoes and her blouse was unbuttoned enough to show her brassiere. She was holding a bottle of Sambuca from which she had been drinking copiously.
“That's the neighborhood lady, what is she doing here?”
“She said she came here to check on Nana or something, so we dragged her in and got her drunk.” Suzanne explained. “We all want to leave now and, well, she doesn't want us to. She screams if we try to leave the room.”
“Neat. You can go now, I can deal with her.” With some effort, James brought the very psyched up, very chatty and and very disturbingly horny middle-aged woman back to her house, being groped all the way to it.

When James went back to Nadia's, he saw Hugh emptying the bottoms of the bottles with a girl, probably the one with whom he was having sex before.
“Here you are, finally. It's time to leave, my man.” Hugh said. “Jenny needs a lift. It's not a problem for you, right?”
James shook his head. “Do you think we should wake up Nadia?”
“Oh, right, I had almost forgotten about our skinny host. Go ahead, wake her up, Jenny and I will be waiting for you in the car.” Hugh replied, walking out arm in arm with the girl.
James sighed and went to the bedroom; Nadia was still sleeping curled up in a fetal position, snoring gently. He shook her until she regained consciousness and unceremoniously dragged her to her feet, informing her that the party was over and they were leaving.
Before she could register his words, James was already out of the door. It took a while to Nadia to realize what had happened, why her house was upside down and there were bottles, food leftovers, puddles of mysterious liquids and vomit stains in almost every room. When it all dawned on her, she slammed her fists on the wall and cried.