Pink Chill

This story is inspired by true events. I have only changed to names, settings and events.

　

Pink chill. Not the most alluring name for a bottle of Rose wine, but by Jove it went down well.

Me and the lads were just at John’s having our usual Saturday night of beers and computer games. I was texting the girl, she was doing the female equivalent; vodka and acoustic CD’s. Each text she sent me got more and more dyslexic as the vodka flew down her throat, with this my eagerness to make the half mile walk to hers improved.

“Come on”

“No we’re not going.”

“Why not?”

John could be a real cock-blocker when he was being lazy. Tommy was being no use, he was smashed out his face due to drinking most of my beers due to the recent loss of his girlfriend. She’s not dead. Just shagging some mixed-race 22 year old instead of him.

“Number one; no booze. Number two; her mate’s aren’t fit. And…” he paused here for great dramatic affect. “I can’t be arsed.”

I pondered John’s argument for a second and looked at my phone. Ignoring the most recent text from the girl-”Arrrre yew gunnaaa cum round orrr wat?”- I noticed it was 21.23.

“Right, the off-license doesn’t close ’til 10. If I get some booze that should solve 2 of your issues?”

“Correct. But I still can’t be arsed.”

I decided to try my hand at some persuasion.

“John, we’re 18. It’s a Saturday night, we have 3 girls, drunk, yes they aren’t exactly 10s, but let’s live for the moment. Me, you, Tommy, we should give ourselves up to the flirtatious maid; adventure! Who knows what could happen? This could be literally the greatest night of our lives.”

“Nah.”

“She’ll have food.”

“Ahhh fuck it. We might as well then.”

“Come on Tommy. Duty beacons.”

I grabbed Tommy by his shoulder and helped him to his feet whilst he shook his head to clear the ethanol that was floating around his brain. Eventually the three of us left John’s house and headed towards Mr. Singh’s.

Singh’s had always been kind to us, even when we were underage, he used to let us off with a few cans, since we’ve kept that loyalty, he’d always glad to see us. The sky was very dark and the cold wind whistled amongst us, and seemed to bring Tommy back to earth.

“So the girl’s mates. They game?”

“They’re drunk.” I shrugged.

“Same difference.”

I pushed the door open to Singh’s a full 8 minutes before he closes up and was instantly hit with the bright lights and dim Bollywood sounds that are a constant in his shop. Mr Singh shuffled from the back room and smiled a goofy grin which made his moustache spread across his wrinkled face.

“Ahhh I knew you boys be back! I tell you, 16 bottles are not enough!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, even when he was making a sale he couldn’t help but be slightly smug. Tommy and John said mumbled hellos and went to look at the top self, I guess I was paying.

“How do Mr. Singh.”

“More Carlsberg?”

I took a quick financial assessment. £8.64 in my wallet. I scanned the wall of booze behind the counter. 10 Carlsberg for £8. Not bad. Then I was drawn to one of Mrs Singh’s homemade signs, ‘Today only- 3 bottles of Pink Chill for £5.’

“What’s that Pink chill like Mr. Singh?”

“Oh it is rocket-fuel, you will be up shagging all night with this stuff!” he made the accompanying hip thrusts whilst saying this.

“How many bottles can I get for eight pounds and… sixty four pence?”

“4 bottle.”

“5?”

“4 bottle and 3 cans of that White Lightening shite.” White Lightening was white cider, it was around 10.4%, really strong stuff and last time I had it I almost blacked out for a full day.

“Deal.”

We swaggered up to the girl’s with our booty in the obligatory blue carrier bags. I sent a quick text to the girl- “We’re coming.”- and proceeded to drown the White Lightening as quick as I could before my body could send it back out.

It was a short walk to the girl’s but en route the nerves started to formulate in my gut. Why? I’d already slept with the girl once, why was I nervous this time?

Once I found myself at her white, wooden door, I exhaled deeply and knocked against the door. I made sure my blazer looked good as the girl flung the door open and the wind caught her red hair and made it blow around her face whilst she giggled. Giggled the only way a drunk girl can. She signalled for us to come in and motioned towards the front room, Tommy and John quickly entered it to find her friends polishing off the second bottle of vodka.

The girl was sat on the bottom step of her spiral staircase, a spliff hung loosely on her bottom lip. I grabbed it out of her mouth and took a very long drag letting the weed circulate around my brain.

“Tour?”

She mumbled something in response and began to make her way up the stairs. I took that as a yes. She took around an hour to get up 12 steps, if she was a real tour-guide she would definitely have been let go along time ago, then again I’m not sure many real tours only visit one room.

Her bedroom was just as I expected, every wall was covered with images of Indie bands, her covers were mono-coloured and her Mac Book Pro lay on top of the covers. I closed and locked the door behind us and pushed her up against it, we kissed full-mouthed and passionately. Her legs found their way around my waist, and I realised she had a red bra on as I flung it across the room and placed her nipple in my mouth

We fell back onto her bed with a crash.

“My Mac!” she managed to articulate through our kissing and her drinking.

We both jumped up and she snatch her laptop up and began to give it the once over. I threw my blazer and my polo shirt off and began to root in my wallet for a condom.

“Thank god, it’s fine.”

I took a step towards her and went for another kiss, although this time she side-stepped and went to get her bra off the bed. Shit.

“What’s up?”

She looked up at me, her eyes still glazed over from out amazing kiss. Just kidding. It was from the vodka and she’d lost a contact lens.

“Nothing, just gunna go get some more booze.”

I couldn’t let her go down stairs, I knew she’d check in on the lads in the front room, and I knew they’d be up to no good. I had to take charge.

“Wine! I’ve brought wine!” I stuttered. She shrugged, and fell back onto the bed, wiggling under the covers and throwing her remaining clothes off and to the floor.

I flung the door open, and thundered down the stairs, barely stopping as I plunged my hand into the carrier bags and dragged out 2 bottles of Pink Chill. I quickly popped my head around the door to the front room and saw Tommy telling the story of his recent break-up to gain the sympathy of one of the girl’s friends whilst John was playing Frisbee with the other girl using a Live Lounge CD.

I laughed to myself and flew up the stairs two at a time.

On opening the door I saw that the girl’s eyes were closed, she was asleep. Fuck! I clinked the bottles of wine together and her eyelids popped open. I felt slightly guilty because I was 100% less drunk than she was, but then again we had done it before so I brushed my conscience to one side.

I dived into bed and things began to get serious, Pink Chill was everywhere, somehow a condom appeared and I was on the verge of… well… you know.

This was it, a key moment in all encounters, she looked up at me and I smiled back at her trying to remain calm despite the thing in my chest (think it’s called a heart) rattling around like a Parakeet in a cage.

“What’s your password for Sky?”

Hardly the best dirty talk I thought as I looked down. I realised it wasn’t her who said it was she screamed and shouted at John and Tommy who’d burst into the room. Suddenly our bodies weren’t connected, she was dressed again, and I was out on the landing with my clothes, and condom, on.

Turns out the lads had got bored downstairs and tried to watch some porn, but had been blocked by the pass code needed.

Once the girl came downstairs with us, it was awkward and everyone suddenly got a lot soberer.

We got back to John’s at around 11 and polished off the bottles of wine whilst Tommy prattled on about his ex.

And the girl? It was the last time I ever saw her.

She died.

Kidding.