8. eight

Chapter eight

“Wasted & Ready” - Ben Keller

J ake threw one arm around my neck and pulled me close for a half-hug, half-headlock on the porch. “You don’t look very happy to see me. Who pissed in your Cheerios?”

I wasn’t in the mood for my brother’s bullshit, so I made no attempt to hide my disgust. I let him usher me inside the cabin, where it was an entirely different atmosphere from the party gathered outside. The kitchen table was a beer pong table now, and a couple of guys were playing a raucous game of catch with one of the balls of yarn I’d seen in a basket by the recliner earlier.

Xander would have one hell of a time getting this place back in order in the morning. I was internally debating whether I still wanted to help him or not.

“Is this really how you want to spend your Friday night?” I asked, turning around to face Jake. It felt like the room was tilting to the right, and I had to clutch my brother’s arm to keep my balance.

“Bro.” Though he laughed in my face, he put one hand on my shoulder in an effort to keep me upright. “I can see you’ve been having a good time.”

“A good time? No.”

Jake gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Tell Jakey all about it, little guy.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Another punchable face. “And give me my fifty dollars back.”

“Not a chance. Already spent.” He loosened his grip on me. “But let’s get you to cheer up. Whatcha drinkin’?”

“Nothing.” I attempted to swat him away, but he grabbed my flailing arm and led me to the kegs in the kitchen.

“Where are the cups?”

“Gone,” someone I’d never seen before in my life answered. “We’re using the old people’s mugs now.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the cabinet door behind him.

Jake opened it and pulled out two mugs–one had the St. Louis arch on it, and the other one said “WORLD’S BEST GRANDMA.” I watched him fill them at one of the kegs before thrusting the grandma mug at me. “Here. Let’s me and you have a chugging contest.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Don’t be a pussy. We’ve never drank together.”

“Yeah we have, with Dad. The boat last s-summer. With Dad on the boat on the lake, we drank.” Some of those words made sense, right?

“That’s different. C’mon. Drink with me. Unless you’re scared you’re going to lose.” He nodded down at the coffee cup. “Take the damn mug.”

I had no choice but to accept it, and somebody nearby hollered, “Hey everyone, the Gardner brothers are going to have a chugging contest!”

Everyone in the kitchen area circled around us, and the room only began to tilt even more. I held the mug with two hands in fear I wouldn’t be able to raise it to my lips without spilling it. Jake’s friend, Isaac, volunteered to count for us. “Ready? One, two, three, drink!”

What could one more beer hurt, right? I started chugging, watching Jake over the top of my mug for as long as I could. His head tilted back faster than mine–no doubt he was more experienced at this than me.

Everyone was more experienced at everything than me.

I’d made it three-fourths of the way to the bottom of the mug when I heard Jake scream, “FUCK YEAH!” and a round of cheering and clapping erupted around us. He slammed his mug down on the counter.

When I pulled my mug away from my lips and tilted my head forward again, the sudden movement caused my stomach to churn. It made me want to drop to my knees, like I’d somehow have a better grip on the earth, or something. “I’m going to be sick,” I said, pivoting toward the sink–but it had been filled with ice.

Someone took the mug from me, and another set of hands gently pushed me toward the bathroom. “Here. Easy now.” Jake’s voice sounded so far away, but I could feel his hands on my back. “Christ. Where are your dumb friends?”

When we reached the bathroom, I shakily lowered myself to my knees in front of the toilet. I opened my mouth to answer Jake’s question, but it wasn’t words that spewed out. I lowered myself closer to the toilet bowl and emptied the contents of my stomach while my brother stood watch.

“I kind of feel like this is my fault,” I heard Jake murmur in between retches. There were other people just outside the door, but I was too preoccupied to notice who he was talking to or care that I had an audience.

After throwing up three or four times, I flushed the toilet, but I remained close to the bowl just in case there was more coming. Sweat was seeping out of every pore, and I was suddenly very thirsty.

I could still hear Jake talking to someone. “I’m his brother.”

A voice. A female voice.

They sounded like they were under water.

Jake spoke again. “Okay, just stay with him so he doesn’t choke on his own vomit.”

The bathroom door closed, and for a moment, I thought I was alone until somebody gently laid a cold washcloth on the back of my neck. Assuming it was Jake, I said, “Are you actually taking care of me right now?”

“It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it, Owen Elizabeth.”

Oh, great. “It’s Frodo,” I said, sitting back against the edge of the bathtub. I wiped my mouth with the washcloth and gazed up at Beth. Towering over me with a sympathetic grin, she handed me a water bottle. “I’m sorry,” I said, accepting the water.

Beth closed the toilet lid and sat down, crossing her arms on her knees. “Why are you apologizing?”

I took a few big gulps of water. “I don’t know.”

She gave a sweet smile, and we stared at each other for a minute, listening to the chaos of the party on the other side of the door. Two mugs clinked together, and then someone yelled, “Oh, shit! Where are the paper towels?”

“Is it true?” Beth asked, diverting my attention back to her. “That you planned to lose your virginity to me tonight?”

Instead of answering with words, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the condom, holding it in my half-opened hand on the rug beside me. Beth stared at it for a few seconds before looking at my face.

“Owen.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. Here comes the rejection. “Listen, I think you’re a great guy, and you’re so sweet and adorable–”

“I am not adorable.”

“Um, hello, Mr. Dimples? Let’s agree to disagree.” She let out a little giggle. “Anyway, you don’t want your first time to be with me, okay? Your first time should be… special.”

I wanted to suggest it could be special with her, but it was too late for that, and I’d only sound desperate at this point.

“And despite how I might have accidentally portrayed myself tonight,” she continued, “I don’t make a habit out of having casual sex with seventeen-year-old boys. I was just bored and looking for some fun tonight. All my friends are off at college, and I just needed a distraction.”

“Well,” I said, clicking my tongue. “You’re welcome for that.”

“I’ve had a good time with you. Really.” Beth tucked her hair behind her ears. “But I think I’m going to go. Are you going to be okay now?”

Physically? “Yeah,” I said. Emotionally? That was up for debate.

Beth stood up and held out her hand to help me up. I shoved the condom back in my pocket and let Beth pull me to my feet. Her hand lingered in mine for a few seconds as she said, “You can tell your friends we had sex in here, if you want.”

I dropped her hand. “I’m not going to do that. But thanks for the offer.”

Beth smiled and reached up to pat me on the me head like I was a kid or a cute animal. “Hope the rest of your night is better. Come see in Boomer’s soon, okay?”

I just nodded, knowing I wouldn’t be showing my face there for a while.

And then she was gone.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t very disappointed. I realized in that moment I never really saw myself losing it to Beth in the first place–it was like deep down inside, I knew the night would end like this. And in some way, I was actually relieved. The pressure was off.

I stayed in the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, and I stole a little bit of Xander’s grandparents’ mouthwash to get the bitter bile taste out of my mouth. Pulling out my phone to check the time, I sighed when I realized it was still just half past eleven. That meant it would be a while before the crowd started thinning out.

I was ready for everyone to leave so I could find a place to sleep.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Is someone taking a shit in there, or what? Hurry up!”

I pulled open the door and nudged past a senior guy whose name I couldn't quite recall. "All yours," I mumbled.

I had nowhere to go. My brother was dominating the beer pong game in the kitchen, and I was thankful he was too distracted to see me move through the room. I slipped out the front door where a couple was making out on the porch swing, so I couldn’t stay there.

And I sure as hell wasn’t going around to the back of the cabin, where the others were still sitting around the fire. I could hear them back there singing along to “Live Your Life,” that Rihanna song, their loud and carefree screeching making me feel more alone.

I wanted to get as far away from them as possible.

So, I decided to go for a walk. I made my way down the gravel driveway, where the crickets and frogs were my only company. I much preferred them, anyway. For the first time all night, I felt a sense of peace.

I wandered all the way down to the very end of Xander’s grandparents’ driveway. I could see the lights from his mom and dad’s house from where I stood. I wondered if they had any clue where he was or even cared. If they found out about this party, how much trouble would he be in? What would his father do?

Despite everything that happened between us, I knew I’d have to stick around to help him clean up in the morning. I couldn’t let him face his dad’s wrath.

“You’ll end up just like your dad.”

I clamped my eyes shut, wishing I’d never said those words. In my heart, I worried they could be true–where would Xander be ten years from now? Twenty?

And what about me?

I thought about what Lena had said, about how I was good with kids. It was something I sort of knew, which was the reason I was considering going into education in the first place, but there was something validating about her words. It was like I needed permission to choose the field of education over, say, biochemistry–and Lena’s opinion meant a lot.

As I turned around to make my way toward the woodworking shed, my mind drifted to how beautiful Lena looked earlier, with her dark hair falling over one shoulder and her hands sweetly tucked underneath her legs. She was probably long gone now, or maybe she was still with the people singing and carrying on by the fire.

I regretted not spending more time talking to her. Up until twelve hours ago, before this whole Beth thing happened, Lena Brower was the girl I thought about the most. On any other day, I would have been ecstatic we were at the same party, but I had let Beth distract me.

Man, I really blew it.

When I reached the shed, I noticed the latch was already undone. At first, I thought Abigail and I might have accidentally left it that way, but a sliver of light spilled from the partially open door. Someone was inside.

I cautiously walked into the shed, half-expecting to find another couple in the middle of a make-out session, or maybe it was just Abigail, returning the extension cord.

But sitting over on the cot, wiping tears from her cheeks, was Lena.