Vanessa
19 years old
October 31, 2004

Fuck today.

Lifting the glass to my mouth, I down the shot.  I wasn't sure what to expect from an alcohol that tastes like cake, but it's not terrible.  I probably should have tried it before I ordered a table full.

Fuck it.

I lick my lips before downing another one.  My eyes scan the room full of fake cops, slutty kittens and whatever else is barely hiding the skank within. 

Fuck Halloween.

Another shot down.  Only 16 more to go.  I can make it.  Just one for every miserable year I've been alive.

Fuck my birthday.

It's getting easier to swallow the sweet liquid.  I really wish I wasn't here alone, but my poor innocent roommate thinks I'm home with my family.  If only she knew the truth...

Fuck my family.

Downing another shot, the familiar burn in my throat centering me.  I can feel my body relaxing as the alcohol takes away the memories.

I drink to forget. 

I drink to forget his face, his smile, his fucking hands on me.

I drink to forget that I trusted him.

I drink to forget that I will never be whole.

I will never be normal.
I will never be happy.
I will never feel safe.

I drink to forget who I really am.

I drink to hide. 
From everyone.
Even myself.

I can drink away the pain.  I can hide  from the memories.  Looking down, I see only 10 shot glasses still contain alcohol.

Shit.

I shouldn't have drank that many, that fast.  I need a break.

From drinking. 
From life.
From everything.

I can dance until I forget who I am. 

I head out to the floor, letting the beat take over. 

Out here, I don't have to think. 
Out here, it's only me and the music. 
Out here, I could be anyone.

I could be whole. 
I could be happy. 
I could be normal.

I throw myself into the song, but I just can't shake the chill that's taken hold of me.  No matter how much sweat is pouring off of me, I feel frozen inside. 

Giving up, I make my way back to the table.  There's an unopened bottle of water sitting in my seat.

Fucking bartender.

He thinks I can't handle my liquor.  I want to prove a point, but I'm actually dying of thirst.

Cracking open the bottle, I drink about half, regretting it the instant the water settles in my stomach.  Before I can yell at myself, there's a tall guy hoovering next to me.

Holy shit.  He's hot.  His muscles are showing through his tight shirt and curly hair that makes you want to run your fingers through it.

God, I wish he made me feel something.  I still feel dead inside. 

Damn. 

He smiles at me, showing his dimples.  "Hey, you see that fucker back there?"

I look past him to see a hunk of a man sitting at a table, looking murderous. "You mean the one staring daggers into your back?" 

He points behind him.  "That's the one.  Do me a favor... don't let him talk to you." 

"Why not?"  I can't help but be a little curious.  Usually guys come up to hit on me, they never demand I stay away from someone.

"He's my bro."  He looks at me like I'm dumb.

"Uh... What?"  This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had with a stranger.

"Just trust me.  He's no good for you."  He's smirking at me, so I can't tell if he's serious or fucking with me.

"Oh and you are?"  Is this how he usually picks up girls?

"I never said that.  I'm not even hitting on you.  I just wanted to drive him crazy for a few minutes.  Here, give me your number.  That will really do it."  He hands me his phone, so I type out the digits.

I enter my real number, usually I would give out a fake, but honestly, I'm kind of intrigued to see what he's going to do.

He might not be stirring up any of my non-existent feelings, but I wouldn't say no to hanging out.  Especially with that guy I'm supposed to stay away from...

He grabs one of my shots, sniffing it.  "What the fuck is this?" 

I can't help but laugh.  I would have said the same thing.  "It's fucking cake."

He laughs, his dimples taking over his face.  "Well, it smells fucking disgusting."

"Well, it tastes fucking disgusting.  After a few, you get used to it though."  I watch as his eyes scan the empty shot glasses.  Here comes the judgement.

"Holy shit.  Did you take all these yourself?"  Well, not quite what I was expecting.

"Yep.  Nine down, ten to go."  I play with an empty glass, trying to avoid his gaze. 

"Nineteen, huh?  That's awfully specific."  His face lights up.  "It's your birthday, isn't it?" 

"Ding, ding ding!  We have a winner!"  He laughs with me, but I can't stop the awkward words from leaving my mouth.  "It might the alcohol talking, but I think we could be friends."

"You might be right."  He reaches for a full shot and I shrug.  I guess he can suffer with me.

Downing another shot with him, I feel my stomach begin to churn.  "This shit is weak, but I don't think I'm gonna make it to nineteen."

"This is fucking disgusting, Red."  I can't say it's the first time I've been called that, but it doesn't feel like an insult coming from him.

"It's Vanessa, actually."  I hold out my hand.  Have we really not gotten this far into the conversation yet?

"Nice to meet you, Red.  I'm Ben."  He smirks at me, before downing another one of my shots.

Asshole.

"I gotta go for a few minutes, but I'll be back.  Remember what I said-"  I cut him off to repeat his warning.

"I know, I know. Stay away from that hot fucker." I motion back to his so-called friend.

"Right.  Except I didn't call him hot."  Ben laughs, as he heads straight to the bar.

He left just to get a drink?  What a weird guy.  Did I really call his friend hot out loud?

Shit. I might be more drunk than I thought.

The bartender appears out if nowhere, sliding a drink in front of me.  "Happy birthday."

"Uh... Thanks?" I look down to find my usual drink, an Old Fashioned on the rocks.

And just like that the bartender is gone.  How did Ben know what I drink?

I take a sip, scanning the room for Ben.  No sign of him.  I'm alone again.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

My eyes land on Ben's friend.  His stride is confident as he makes his way towards my table.

For the first time tonight, I felt something other than dread. I thought there might be something wrong with me, but I think I was waiting for him.

He's not the usual guy I go for.  At first glance, someone might call him stocky, but I can see the way his muscles move beneath his clothes.  He's built.  I bet he looks better without the baggy dress shirt.

He's a little short, but I think he's still a taller than me in heels.  His hair is so dark, you can barely tell it's red, but as a fellow ginger, I can spot them pretty easily.  He's not pale like me, though.  I wonder what his secret is.

I was so busy checking out the forbidden fruit that I didn't even notice the stupid bean pole standing next to me until he spoke. 

"Hey baby, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?"  Ugh... Seriously?

"Not as bad as you will hurt if you don't leave."  I shoo him with my hand, hoping he will take the not-so-subtle hint. 

He doesn't.

He laughs, leaning closer to me.  "I love your hair."  I roll my eyes as he twirls a strand of it in his fingers.

What the fuck?

"So tell me, does the carpet match the drapes?"  Yeah, first time I've ever heard that.  God, kill me now.

Ben's friend runs directly into the idiot.  This is perfect. 

"Hey watch where you're going, asshole."  The idiot has no chance against my latest conquest.  I've seen stronger toothpicks.  

"What the fuck is your problem? Can't you see we're in the middle of something here?"  Like hell we are.

"No, we're not."  I can't make it any more clear, can I?

"What?" God, this guy needs a clue.  And maybe a gym membership.

"We weren't in the middle of anything, baby."  I wink at the hottie, hoping he gets it.  "I was waiting for you and he came over.  Please don't beat the life out of this one, snuggly-bear."

His eyes flicker with understanding. "Give me one good reason why not.  This fucker is trying to steal what's mine." 

Something in me liked when he called me his.

Once the idiot ran away with his tail between his legs, I motion to the stool next to me. "Can I buy you a drink, you know, as a thanks?" 

He sits down, looking like a boulder balancing on a few twigs. "Sure.  Glad I could help."

"Right place, right time, I guess." I can feel the ice inside melting just a little each minute I spend with him.  Shit.  I want to bang him, not marry him.

"Something like that."  He's already in my top 10 favorite people list and I don't even know his name yet.

"I'm Vanessa."  I shake his warm hand, as it wraps completely around mine.  You know what they say about big hands...

"Nate." I pull away, ignoring the shiver the contact sent through my spine.

This is a one night thing.
It's only ever a one night thing.
Don't get too attached.

I lean forward.  "Nice to meet you, Nate."  

I raise my glass in the air, giggling at the success of my plan.  "Happy fucking birthday to me." 

He raises his glass, clinking mine.  "Happy fucking birthday to you."

His laughter fills the air around me and I can't help but join in.  It's intoxicating.

He points across the room, his face red from laughing so much.  "Seriously, he's already making another move."

I scoff, pretending to be offended.  "That jerk face.  I thought I fell from heaven.  There can't be two of us here tonight!"

"What a douche bag!" His humor is a perfect compliment to mine.  I can't remember ever laughing this much.

I clutch my stomach, I'm literally crying, with tears running down my face.   I probably look like a reason, but fuck it.

"You know, he actually asked me if the carpet matches the drapes!"  I give my best shocked face, but honestly I've heard it so much, it's not that surprising.

Nate's face turns serious, as he leans closer to whisper, "Well, does it?"

"Shut up, you ass!"  I slap his arm, enjoying our instant friendship.

It's weird, I feel like I've known him forever.  Nothing feels forced or fake.  It's fucking awesome. 

He breaks, unable to keep a straight face.  "What?  It's for science."  He can barely finish lying through his laughter.  He's adorable in a weird way.  "I mean, can you really deny science?"

I drop my voice low, leaning in.  "Play your cards right, snuggly bear and I might let you experiment on me."

His cheeks turn bright red.  Hell yes.

He's like putty in my hands.