Chapter 14

(Unedited)

As I prepared for Dryden's party, I did not know what to expect. It had been some time since I had been to his house, but I was sure I recall everything the same way. I wasn't sure what overplayed clichés would also be attached to the mechanisms.

It occurred to me that my parents would disapprove of me going to the party unless I told them Dryden was hosting it, even if they weren't aware of our outgrown situations. Alcohol. Weed. Sex everywhere. That would reason enough for them not to approve.

"Don't come home too late," my father tells me in a strictly fatherly manner, adding to the cohesiveness of parenting skills he had known sincerely since the early stages of my high school education. I open the door immediately, progressing to find out what Dryden's scholarship party would be about.

The partying had already started when I stepped onto the porch. The roar of the sound waves and the bass stated with certainty that the drinking had already begun, and judging from the teenage drama series; it would be wise to turn back and watch a docu-series on actual events at home.

However, I was already here. What would be the point now?

I intended to attend. I had tried to forget about my crush on Christian when he couldn't answer a question I had asked. He could have just said so if it wasn't a date, right? But how did I forget about the lavender haired boy? However, my hereditary awkwardness prevented me from sharing the truthful answer, so I doubted it would be that easy.

***

A variety of drinks lay on the coffee table, no doubt abandoned by the teenager drinker, in hopes that someone would finish them. I secretly vow that it wouldn't be me, and I settle for a slice of over greasy pizza instead with that thought. I scoff at the memory of when I made pizza for Christian and I shortly after he had given me the camera.

"I haven't seen you at the football games," a female voice tells me as she grabs a drink from the table next to the pizza. It was a slightly plump girl with strawberry blonde hair flowing down her face and misty green eyes behind it. My thoughts plaster my brain as I figure out what to say. I don't know this girl, nor do I know if she's trying to be nice or trying to flirt with me.

"Football isn't my thing," I told her honestly, even though I couldn't deteriorate the complete truth as to why she wouldn't see me at the football games as I skim the unlabeled drinks that surrounded the pizza, as I lowkey hoping that they're not spiked. That was the last thing I would need, and a spiked Coke or Pepsi.

Before we could continue, Hannah heard one of her friends call out, "Hannah, we're playing truth or dare." Of course, a teenage party would feature a game that can physically and mentally traumatise someone. "Dryden is playing, and we know you have a crush on him."

Although I doubted Dryden would put his other interests ahead of playing the drunken high school version of the game, Hannah seemed to have bought it as she poured a drink into one of the solo cups, heading straight for her friend. I calculated that this could only get more embarrassing for her by the end of the night or game; therefore, I decided not to partake; it would have me drunkenly divulge who I was crushing on.

Giving myself more of a tour through Dryden's house, I found players on the football team competing against each other in the game room, playing Call of Duty against each other. The scent of the vape lingers as members of the trio meet tragic ends and are shot in the neck or back, while Dryden watches and waits to see what will happen next.

As I try to escape, he sees me. Before any more of our frenemies' drama can enfold, everyone knows our drama is blowing up like a failed chemistry beaker experiment. Amid his party, I did not want to embarrass him at his own home. The unsettling feeling of not being welcome during their game had found its way to my insides.

"Drinks are in the kitchen. You can help yourself," Dryden announces as one of the football players gets up from where he was sitting on the loveseat, and another player takes his place, handing Dryden the controller.

With that, I step inside the room where Dryden had many moments of staying up late and playing Duck Hunt and Mario Kart. Neither I was good at it. Up until years in middle school, Dryden didn't care. When the scenario drifted, that was when he had started to disallow me to play games I hadn't been good at; thus entered the Twilight years and poster dare.

The return of Hannah brought me back to reality as she started to speak. Her breath and voice reeked of alcohol as she found Dryden. No doubt on account of a dare that another truth or dare player had made her do, and I was sure that she had taken on the task in her drunken state.

"I have something to ask you, Drysen," Hannah calls out to Dryden, getting his name wrong. I wasn't sure if it was on purpose or the alcohol, and either way, I was sure it was to get this attention. Her drunken attempt to get flirty with him wasn't helping the matter any; as I watched this encounter go down. Before Dryden could even prepare himself for whatever it was she had wanted to ask; she had already asked him.

"I already said no," Dryden tells her as he slightly moves over and his football friend comes back, talking about how a couple of not so gay couples were doing gay couple stuff out in the hallway on his way back. His homophobic description cut through my veins like a knife. As he says, it must have been a dare because there was no way one of them could be gay, as he shows Dryden and the rest of his friends the clear picture on his phone. My heart painfully sunk. How could he judge and decide who's gay and who isn't?

If there was ever a time to need some liquid courage at this party, now was the time for it, as I knew that I wouldn't be able to recover from what I had heard him say with his judgement, and Dryden hadn't even attempted to correct him.

As I left the game room, Hannah was still with the boys until I was sure she had proof of her dare being completed. Maybe now would be a time to call Christian and tell him I'm down for that movie marathon he wanted the other day or go home and take some photography with the camera. Instead, I reach for the Pepsi upon finding the pizza gone and the Coca-Cola gone.

My decision wouldn't have been the same had I known then that the soda wasn't just Pepsi. Even touching my lips was painful because it burned everything in my throat and travelled down to my liver. Pepsi cannot taste like that. And yet I wanted more of it.

"So, what dare did you get stuck with?" I hear someone ask as they come out for a drink and whatever else they want. I hadn't been stuck with one, as I knew I wasn't playing. Now that I had already broken the silent vow of not drinking would now be the time to play? Wasn't that what I wanted when I wanted to get over my crush on Christian?

"I'm not playing," I tell them as I place my empty cup on the table as everyone else had. I should have thrown it away in the trashcan, one less to clean up. Now I remember that she had been the one that told Hannah to come to play the game because of Dryden. Maybe it was the first play of intoxication playing Devil's advocate, but I thought it would be a good idea.

"We have another person to play," She tells her crowd of friends. "We need another player since well Hannah bailed," she adds as we take seats at the kitchen table where a few daring football plays not playing Call of Duty with Dryden and a few more girls had been.

The alcohol now gnaws at the back of my stomach, trying to find its way up through my system as I try to keep it down. All the teen dramas show the puke scene in the bathroom with hair held back. I didn't have that, and I knew I wasn't near a bathroom.

"We should start with the newest dude," one of the football players calls out and then takes a shot of his drink that I knew now wasn't soda. Though the last game of the season was tomorrow, I was sure he'd still be working on curing that hangover. Despite never knowing what a hangover felt like personally.

"I think he should," I heard one of the players announce. The alcohol and anxiety mix as both claw at my insides. I don't remember anything after that besides the drink making its way on the floor. Was this what being drunk for the time felt like? If so, I made a note to not get drunk at college. Everything in my gullet burned.

"Drink some of this," I heard the suffocating voice of Dryden. "It'll help," he adds as he hands me a cup. Placing it to my lips, it didn't savoury taste like water. My brain squished together like bananas mixed for my mother's kosher banana bread I used to love eating when I was a kid.

A ping of what sounded like my phone goes off, and I'm unsure where to locate it. I couldn't correctly figure out who it was in my drunken state. I knew they wouldn't want to know how drunk I had gotten after one drink if it were my parents. If it were Christian, I could see it not ending well either.

After that, I don't know how long I stayed at Dryden's. I wasn't sober enough to get home properly. The one thing I knew was that I wouldn't be able to go home for a while. At least not in my state. I would have to go to church on Sunday and confess my sins if I had.

***

A scene from a Netflix show I had recently seen clung to my brain as the liquor clung to the insides of my stomach. I forget now what the show had been about as I tried to text the one person I could think of. The one person who I could most likely be around right now. The lavender curled boy who I was trying to get my crush over. I keep walking and press the phone button instead. The line is silent when he picks up the phone.

"Maybe it's the alcohol talking," I begin, my breathing uneven as I try to muster up the courage as to where this is going, though I have no idea where this is going honestly as I stop in the middle of a dirt road.

"Why are you drunk? Did something happen?" Christian asks curiously. My brain racing against my thoughts of telling him that he's the reason I got drunk. Would he believe me? The liquid substance lying in my stomach tries to escape the labyrinth of my stomach, turning my thoughts every which way.

"No. Nothing happened. Just listen," I tell him as the scene from the Netflix drama plays in my mind. In the scene, the main lead is high on ADHD medication. Though he's on the football field, he tells his love interest how he feels. Would it work out like that if I had told him? My liquid courage seemed to be fading fast. "I," I start to say to him as the alcohol finally escapes me.

"Where are you? I'll come to pick you up," I hear Christia's voice crack as I already know I'll be having an emotional effect and probably not want to go to school tomorrow. My parents would already want to know where I am, and the first place they'd call is Dryden's house, as I hope Dryden doesn't tell them anything.

"I don't know where I am. A dirt road somewhere," I tell him as I look around where I am. "It looks fake and old. Fake like everything," I tell Christian, as I dread how I want to go with this as I was sure that I had alcohol still in my nervous system, and I wasn't sure at this point.

"Luke, stay where you are. I'm coming to get you," I hear him tell me as I imagined him headed towards his jeep. I wasn't sure what he'd say tomorrow. If I were lucky, he'd skip his poetic justice metaphors for when I am sober.

"One thing that isn't fake is that I like you," I tell Christian. I don't know what he says or if he said anything, as I drop my phone and it goes silent.