New Year's Eve

This is an account of my new year’s eve narrated in the present tense:

It’s 9pm. The party started at 8:15 but I reckon it’s best to be fashionably late. I’m nearly at the house now, wearing a big coat and smelling of the aftershave my uncle gave me for Christmas.

I arrive at the door and ring the bell. There’s plenty of noise coming from within but I’m waiting for almost a minute before a girl opens it. I don’t know if it's her party or not and before I can ask she's gone. As I step forward it becomes clear that arriving late was a a mistake - the party is already in full swing and the hallway is crammed with people clustered in small groups.

I feel disorientated as I wander round a house I’ve never been in before and have to squeeze past people I’ve never met. I’m looking for the Princess but I can't see her anywhere. I ask a blonde girl if she knows her whereabouts but she has no idea. Eventually, after what feels like an age I locate her upstairs in one of the bedrooms.

I begin to walk over but as I do so I recognise the boy she’s talking to. My stomach drops an inch as I see it's the stupid Jedward wannabe who I thought wasn’t coming! Here he is in front of me for the first time and I'm tempted to leave the party altogether, but I’m spotted by the Princess and beckoned over.

‘This is ________’ she says, introducing me to my nemesis.

‘Hiya’ I say, shaking his hand extra firmly.

‘What’s up buddy?’ he says, smiling awkwardly. I’m not sure if this is a rhetorical question or not so I decide to keep quiet. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, skinny jeans and a black leather jacket. Not as ridiculous as some of the outfits I’ve seen him in on Facebook but still more daring than something I'd ever wear.

We strike up a forced conversation about our current situations in life and he tells me he’s studying art at a sixth form college, which sounds a bit like a euphemism for loafing around. His manner of speech begins to immediately grate, as he moves wildly from a quick tempo to a snail's pace, presumably to emphasise the point he’s making.

It's bizarre and after a few moments I also recognise an unusual drawl in his accent.

‘Are you American?’ I ask him, ‘You kind of sound like it.’

‘No mate’ he says, with a tinge of pride in his voice, ‘but I did spend last summer in California with some friends’

What?! Am I really hearing this? He went to California on holiday this summer and comes back speaking like an American soap star? It's ludicrous.

Unfortunately the Princess doesn’t seem too bothered so I make an excuse about needing the toilet and leave them to it. This was definitely not the way the evening panned out in my head and I suddenly realise I have no plan B to fall back on.

Consequently, I disregard all resolutions made about not getting drunk like last year and head off in search of booze. I find a crate of beers in the kitchen and with no-one to talk to I down two pretty quickly. I move on to some Sourz shots and then fill up a plastic cup with homemade punch.

As I’m doing this a miracle occurs. Jedward comes down the stairs and walks over to me. I’m afraid he might punch me but he actually informs me he’s leaving.

‘Nice to meet you buddy, have to dash off to another party’ he says.

‘Oh, that’s a shame’ I lie, trying hard to conceal my joy.

With him gone I head back into the party with a spring in my step. It’s nearly midnight now and everyone is gathering in the living room to watch the fireworks on TV. I get caught up in the throng and spot the Princess in the far corner. Once the countdown is over and people have stopped cheering and hugging I make a beeline for her.

‘Hey, what’s up?’ I ask.

‘Ha, not much. You look like you’re having fun’ she says, pointing to my booze-filled cup.

‘Yeah I am! Now that I’m talking to you at least’

 I don't realise it at the time but the alcohol has given me a strong dose of Dutch courage.

‘Your dress is very sexy’ I say, ‘it shows off your cleavage really well’

‘Err…thanks!’ she says, her face going red.

‘Between you and me, I’ve been checking out all the other girls here and you’re definitely the hottest!’

‘Umm…ok’

I continue in this indiscreet fashion until she says something about needing to find her friend, leaving me alone once more. At this point one of the girls who I was standing next to during the countdown comes over to me.

‘Hey you, how’s it going?’ she asks, fluttering her eyelids at me.

‘Not too bad’ I say, surprised at her appearance.

‘I saw you earlier. You were looking at me.’

‘Was I? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it’

‘That’s ok, I quite liked it. Shall we go and sit down in the corner?’

Now, when it comes to girls my general standards are not that high. I’ve been told this many times before and have come to recognise it myself. Having said that, I'm not completely indiscriminate and the girl in front of me was, frankly, not someone I would look twice at in ordinary circumstances.

But these are far from ordinary circumstances – not only am I the one being chased for once but I am also in possession of a pair of extra strong ‘beer goggles;. ‘Sitting in the corner’ and seeing what happens next sounds like the best idea in the world right now.

The ‘corner’ is actually the conservatory, which is damp and gloomy but secluded from everyone else. As we sit down she asks me straight out ‘What’s the freakiest thing you’ve ever done with a girl?’ Let's just say it wasn't as freaky as what she's done with a boy and the level of flirtation does not dip below this line.

We talk for about half an hour and with hindsight it’s surprising we don’t just get it on. I’m up for it, she’s definitely up for it and we both knew how it’s going to end.

But just as she starts to make a move and stroke my thigh with her hand the sound of footsteps can be heard from the doorway. We look up and standing there in front of us is none other than the Princess!

I feel like I'm snapped back to a different reality and for a couple of seconds we stare at each other awkwardly. Then she mutters, ‘Sorry guys, didn’t mean to disturb you’ and walks out.

I run off after her, completely ignoring all thoughts of the other girl and catch up with her by the front door.

‘Hey…that was nothing back there.’ I say, ‘We were just having a laugh’

‘It’s ok’ she says, ‘I’m sorry if I made it awkward’

‘No, I’m the one who’s sorry’

‘Sorry for what?’

I can’t say it to her - it would sound weird and presumptuous. She leaves with her friend and I wave goodbye. I go back into the party and think I might as well try it on again with the other girl.

She’s having none of it though and with the people around me leaving for home and me sobering up I decide to cut my losses. I slink back home in the dark, kicking an empty Coke can along. What a terrible start to 2015!