Billy shuffled down the sidewalk, hands stuffed into the pockets of his heaviest coat. Snowflakes melted as they met the ground and the harsh wind stung Billy's face. His breath was visible in the Canadian cold. Absentmindedly, he lifted two fingers to his mouth and pretended he was smoking a cigarette.
Billy was headed to a Christmas party held at his childhood home. He didn't like the place very much. Too many bad memories. However, having been invited by the kindhearted sorority girls, Billy would have felt cruel turning them down. He's sure the house won't be too familiar. He'll get ahold of himself. If it gets to be too much, he'll just drink until he can't remember why he was upset.
As the half-melted snow crunched beneath Billy's feet, he could tell he was getting closer. The street lamps were more and more familiar the further he walked. He knew the house the second he laid eyes on it. It had a charm to it this time of year, lit up with Christmas lights and frosted with snow. As Billy approached, the telltale signs of a party become more obvious. A dozen cars lined the street outside the home. Sounds of laughter and music drifted through the air.
Before Billy could second guess himself and skitter back to his crummy apartment, his hand was hovering over the doorbell. He rung it and immediately jumped at the sound. It was familiar, but he hadn't heard it much as a child. The Lenz's never had a lot of visitors.
The wreath that hung on the door bounced when it opened. Billy was met with a curly haired girl, eyes wide and curious behind her glasses. She was almost immediately shoved aside by Barb, her grin lopsided and her hair wild.
"Billy! Thank god you came, Clare said you wouldn't show!" she slurred. If it weren't for her demeanor, Billy could tell by her smell alone that Barb was already plastered.
"Hi, Barb," was all that Billy could think to say. Barb seemed to notice that the glass she was waving around was empty. She jabbed it in the direction of the curly haired girl, who's eyes had gone even wider as she looked Billy over.
"Phyl! Gimme a refill of that strong stuff, will ya? The one Mrs. Mack brought," she spat. "Phyl" managed to look away from Billy, only to roll her eyes and take Barb's glass to the kitchen.
"The hell are you doin on the doorstep? It's cold as a witch's tit in a brass bra! Get in here, big guy," Barb said as she dragged Billy inside. She continued babbling as she pulled Billy's coat off and threw it in the direction of the coat hanger. Billy picked it up and hung it properly before he was dragged again, further into the house.
"Here, we're all in the den tellin scary stories. You got some good stories, I'm sure. Right? Oh, you don't gotta talk if you don't wanna," Barb rambled on and on.
Billy tuned her out as he scanned the area he used to call his home. The stairwell was what stuck out most at the moment. His father pushed him down it when he was seven. Billy quickly shook the memory off and tuned back into the present, where he stood in the entrance to the den.
Two couches and a sofa were jam packed with people, all chatting with each other. A small group of men stood in the corner beside a glimmering Christmas tree. Billy spotted Jess and a few other sorority girls he recognized among the crowd. He assumed the older woman quietly nursing a bottle of gin was the infamous Mrs. Mack.
"Ladies and germs," Barb called over the group's conversations, "my friend Billy is here!"
This quickly got their attention as almost every pair of eyes in the room snapped towards Billy. His stomach dropped. He offered a grin and a weak wave that was only returned by Jess. Billy noticed her elbow the man sitting beside her. He also waved.
"Cmon, lets get you a drink," Barb said. The second the two left the room, the chatter continued.
Of course, they all knew who Billy was. The sorority house is famous for having been the site of a brutal, unsolved double homicide. The deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Lenz sparked countless rumors around the campus, some believing that their ghosts haunt the property and others forming theories on who could have committed the act.
Billy knew they all knew him. The thought that they were all talking about him in the den made his head ache. Maybe he did need a drink.
In the kitchen, Barb had a mostly one-sided conversation about what Billy wanted to drink. He insisted on something simple, but she pushed for various strange cocktails and mixes. She really wanted Billy to try something "Christmas-y."
The bottles of alcohol Barb presented on the island reminded Billy of his father's liquor cabinet. Each bottle had a different shape and each liquid was a different color. Billy turned in his seat to face the area where the liquor cabinet once was. To his surprise, it was still there, almost exactly how he remembered it.
"Oh, the liquor cabinet?" Barb asked as she took notice of Billy's fascination. "Don't bother. It's locked."
"I know," Billy responded. Barb raised a brow.
"It was my father's. I'm surprised it's still here," he chuckled.
"Well, shit! Do you know how to get it open?"
"Sure I do."
"Bingo! Ancient booze, here I come!"
"I doubt the key is still around here, though," Billy said, his voice hushed. He didn't want to excite Barb with the prospect of booze they can't even get to.
"Billy my friend, you'd be surprised how much old shit is still here," Barb grinned.
"Well... would you mind if I looked for it upstairs?" Billy asked.
"You go right ahead. I'll be waiting!" Barb cheered as she shooed Billy out of the kitchen.
As he began his trek up the creaky stairs, he heard Barb yell over the din again.
"Guys, Billy's gonna open the liquor cabinet!"
A small round of cheers and whoops sprung up from the chatter.
Billy ran his hand up the wooden railing, taking in the familiarity of it all. Once he reached the top, he looked for the light red color of the closet door. Turning the knob, he felt like a kid again. He would often hide in this closet if his parents were particularly angry with him. He surprised himself when he reached the pull-string lightbulb with ease, something he was never tall enough to do as a child.
His family's old coats and winter gear was absent from the closet, but the boxes that sat at the top shelf collecting dust were still there. Billy slid a shoe box down and cracked the lid open only to find that its contents were the exact same as they were nearly twenty years ago. It almost concerned Billy how many of the Lenz's belongings still remained in the repurposed house. Nevertheless, he decided to take the entire box down. Maybe Barb would be interested in his father's old ashtrays as well as the key to his liquor cabinet.
Billy was met with an eager crowd of drunk college students at the bottom of the stairs.
"Well?" Barb asked. A hush fell over the group.
"Oh, yeah, I found it," Billy mumbled. Another cheer sounded off among the students. They parted as Billy reached the floor and followed him like disciples to the cabinet, shouting and babbling the whole way. But before Billy could even put the lock in the keyhole, Barb stopped him.
"You sure you don't mind us drinking your family's stuff?"
Billy thought it over.
"Well, dad always said it was just for show, but I don't think he'll mind now, will he?"
Most of the cheering immediately came to a halt at the morbid joke. Billy giggled to himself as he unlocked the cabinet, delighted with the thought of his father turning in his grave.

A little later into the night, Billy had loosened up a bit, mostly in thanks to the alcohol. He had made himself acquainted with Mrs. Mack as well as made uncomfortable small talk with Jess's boyfriend, Peter. Now he sat on a couch between the sorority girls who were laughing and sharing stories.
Billy stole glances at Barb who sat next to him. She was clearly bored as she passed her drink from one hand to the other. Jess also seemed bored. Billy remembers her saying that she was never a party person when she invited him. He also suspected that her mood had something to do with the small disagreement her and Peter had had earlier.
Billy folded his hands in his lap, sitting as politely as he could. Making a good impression was very important to him. One of the girls, Billy thinks it's Clare, was telling a story about a rude customer she had to deal with at her first job. The other girls occasionally chimed in.
"Sure, I can show you where the bathroom is, Billy," Barb suddenly announced. Billy hadn't asked to go to the bathroom, and he certainly didn't need Barb to tell him where it was. Before he could protest, Barb was pulling him off the couch and towards the stairwell.
"Oh, I have to use the restroom too," another voice interjected. Billy was surprised to see Jess following him and Barb up the stairs.
"I don't have to pee," Billy whispered.
"I know you don't have to pee," Barb responded with an eye roll, as if it was obvious what her intentions were.
"I don't either," Jess added when she caught up.
On the top floor, Barb made a beeline for the ladder to the attic. Billy's heart stopped.
"Where are you taking us, Barb?" Jess asked, perfectly vocalizing Billy's thoughts.
"You're bored, aren't you? We're going somewhere fun," Barb answered.
Billy considered the attic to be anything but fun. It's where his mother used to lock him when he misbehaved, sometimes leaving him there for days on end. He slid his hands into his pants pockets to prevent them from shaking.
Barb seemed agitated once she realized the others hadn't followed her into the attic. She kneeled to stick her head through the door.
"Are you coming? Or do you want to go back and listen to Clare whine?"
That seemed to convince Jess. She started up the ladder.
Billy tried to think of something else, anything else, to ease his nerves. He began by removing his hands from his pockets and towards the bars of the ladder. The reminder that Jess and Barb were up there, that he wouldn't be alone, was comforting enough to get him to creep into the attic.
It was dark, almost pitch black. The only light came from the small hole in the floor that led to the rest of the house and the Christmas lights outside a small window. Billy noticed that the place was filled with junk, his old junk, before Barb flipped the attic door closed. This eliminated most of the light.
"We're gonna have to be quiet up here, the walls are thin," Barb whispered.
Billy blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness. He noticed a familiar rocking chair by the window. Something warm and furry rubbed against his leg.
He shrieked.
"What! What's the matter!" Barb yelled as quietly as she could.
"Something touched my leg!" Billy said, stumbling aimlessly through the dark, trying to grab onto Barb for reassurance. He grabbed Jess instead.
"You drunks, it's just Claude," she whispered, her voice harsh.
Almost on cue, a meow cut through the darkness. Billy felt another brush against his leg. He sighed and released Jess before he crouched to pet the cat.
He had always wanted a cat, but he didn't deem himself responsible enough to take care of one. Claude rubbed against Billy's hand and purred happily. He must not get much attention with all the girls out of the house most of the time. He meowed again, and Billy fought off the urge to meow back.
"Right, just Claude. Let's get to the good stuff," Barb whispered.
She stepped carefully towards the rocking chair and started riffling through the piles of junk. Eventually, she pulled out a pale blue rotary phone and made herself comfortable on the floor. Jess sat cross-legged beside her. Billy joined them, Claude comfortable in his arms.
"What's the phone for?" Jess asked.
Barb laughed quietly to herself, already amused with the answer.
"I like to prank call the frat house," she whispered.
"Barb!" Jess scolded.
"Watch and learn, prude," Barb teased as she began to dial the frat house. The phone didn't ring for long when a man's voice answered.
"Pi Delta Phi," he said, announcing the name of the fraternity. His tone was slightly distorted by the phone.
"Evening, boys," Barb said, loud enough for the phone to pick up but not loud enough for anyone downstairs to hear.
There was a pause on the other line. When a response came, it was from a much deeper voice.
"What do you want?"
"First guy got scared?" Barb chuckled, taking notice of the change.
"I'm hanging up."
"Did you know there's a species of turtle that can screw for three days straight?"
No response, but he hadn't hung up yet.
"I've watched them at the zoo. Zebras can hardly last three minutes," Barb whispered into the receiver. Jess watched, slack jawed in awe. Billy held in his giggles.
"Are you a turtle or a zebra, fuck boy?" Barb added.
Nothing but whispers on the other end. Barb was clearly getting fed up with the lack of response.
"Oh, don't be shy, I know you all yank your chains once I hang up."
"You wish, whore. Call a sex line," a man answered. It was yet another new voice.
"Please don't call me things like that, you don't know what it does to me," Barb drawled. Billy slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughs. Jess punched Barb's shoulder.
"Slut."
Dial tone.
Billy immediately erupted into laughter and was quickly shushed by the girls. Jess didn't seem to find the gag as funny. She began lecturing Barb through bared teeth, trying to remain as quiet as possible.
"We can get in real trouble for things like that, Barb, you oughta be ashamed of yourself!"
"Well fine. If you don't like it, go downstairs," Barb fired back.
Jess sighed in defeat.
"I'm going to bed," she whispered. "Goodnight, Billy," she smiled and waved. Billy waved back with the hand that wasn't holding Claude. Jess quietly left the attic without bidding Barb goodnight.
"Some folks just don't have a sense of humor, huh Bill," Barb mumbled.
"I think she's nice," Billy responded.
"Yknow I have the sorority's number," Barb said. Billy wasn't quite sure what she was suggesting. "You wanna give em a call?" she clarified.
"I don't know about that..." Billy stumbled over his words.
"Cmon, just once! They won't recognize your voice, I promise. They're all too drunk, anyway."
Billy sat in silence for a long time, debating with himself. Barb didn't seem to mind. She held the phone out to him, waiting for him to accept it. Eventually he gave in. Without speaking a word, Billy set Claude aside, took the receiver, and held it to his face. Barb giggled as she dialed her own sorority house.
The phone rang four times before someone picked up.
"Hello?"
It was like Billy was hearing double. The ambience of the party downstairs echoed through the phone. He was so caught up in listening, he forgot to speak.
"Hello?"
The woman's voice repeated. Briefly, Billy searched for something to say, but he was almost immediately distracted by deciding who was on the other end. He wasn't certain, but he thought it sounded most like Phyl, the bespectacled woman who greeted him at the door.
"I'm not sure, all I hear is breathing."
At this comment, Billy realized how heavily he was breathing. He pulled the phone away from his mouth, suddenly embarrassed.
"Hang up then, dear."
That was Mrs. Mack's voice. She was telling Phyl to hang up. Say something, quick.
"Suck my fat cock," Billy spat.
He gasped, shocked that he would even think to say such a thing. Barb sat across from him, pinching her nose and holding her mouth to keep herself from laughing.
"Excuse me?"
Billy couldn't help it. He laughed erratically into the phone. Eventually, his laughing turned into snorts. The first thing Billy thought of was a pig.
"Piggy cunt!" he squealed, "Pretty pig cunt!"
He gasped again, partially to catch his breath after his laughing fit and partially out of shock.
"The hell are you talking about?"
Similar to Barb's call, a new voice had taken over the phone.
"You want it, don't you?" Billy rasped, intentionally bringing his voice deeper. Part of him thought it was funny to give them a different voice, mirroring the multiple voices that they were giving him.
"Who is this?"
"Want my juicy cock!" Billy nearly shouted. He put emphasis on the final "ock" noise. Barb was gawking at him now. Just as much as he was surprising himself, Barb hadn't expected this kind of behavior from Billy.
"You're a sick creep, you know that?"
Billy was delighted to hear a new voice, one of the men's. He wondered if it was Peter.
"Sit on it, pretty boy!" Billy screeched. This time, he pitched his voice up to sound like a woman's. He gasped for a third time. He hadn't realized his voice could go that high until now.
For his final act, Billy decided to drop all the voices.
"Merry Christmas," he deadpanned. The phone dinged as he hung up.