Chapter 28 #2
I shrug. The crackle of the fire blends smoothly with the sounds of voices, hoots, and yells, a mixture of people and wildlife in the surrounding forest. There are people everywhere in huddled groups, which is where most of the noise is coming from, mostly teens around my age gathered in big circles.
Some have piles of smoke rising from their center, others just puffs of steam.
I think I see Geraldine. Kaitlynn, she, and I were friends in middle school.
Then she got to Mount Laurel and decided it wasn’t cool hanging with the enby.
Her family isn’t exactly queer friendly.
She’s in full conversation with Elana, her replacement for Kaitlynn and me.
Most of the football team is in her huddle, some even in their numbered jerseys.
If half of them weren’t gorgeous, I’d hate them for how much they think of themselves. It’s repulsive.
Still, I’m not finding what I’m looking for. No bottles or plastic cups. There are joints being passed around everywhere, and I think I saw a few soda and energy drinks in some hands, but not what I’m looking for. Where is the junk I always hear about? Are the parties not like I’ve been told?
“This sort of sucks,” I say.
“We just got here.”
“Still sucks,” I repeat.
“Oh my God, calm down,” Kaitlynn says. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Me? Dramatic?” I act offended. It’s the most sarcasm she’s getting from me tonight.
Someone yells, “It’s here!”
I jump and sweep my gaze in the direction of the voice.
“What’s here?” I ask Kaitlynn.
“How should I know?” She shrugs.
“Let’s find out,” I say, and start off.
“Fine,” Kaitlynn grumbles and follows after me.
There’s a truck, a rich kid’s big Chevy.
The tailgate is down and a couple guys are lifting box after box from the back and handing them down a line.
I follow the trail until it stops at a table where they’re stacking them under a tiny lantern next to a cooler.
I step closer and see it’s filled with ice, and a stack of red plastic cups sits on the foldout table next to it.
“Jackpot,” I say.
“What?” Kaitlynn asks.
“Follow me.” I rush the table, but I’m still not the first.
Before we get there, one box has already been ripped to pieces and emptied. The person in front of me grabs another and rips the top off, revealing can after can after can. I grab one, and then grab one for Kaitlynn.
“What’s th—” she starts to ask but stops. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” I shrug, but suddenly I’m feeling less certain about it.
“You’ve never drunk.” Kaitlynn eyes me, and then it hits. I might not have explained my full intentions for being here. My bad. “Oh. I…”
“You haven’t either,” I say. “Right?”
“No, I haven’t,” she says, and takes the can. “I hear it’s nasty.”
“Then why are they drinking it?” I wave my hand behind us.
Half the boxes are already empty and the sound of cans popping open is like a little musical cymbal being dinged across the field. They like it.
“I dunno. Maybe they just hate life so much they don’t care?” Kaity shrugs.
“Perfect, then.” I nod and pop the cap on the first can. “Me too.”
“Fine. A taste, but I don’t think I’m going to drink it,” she tells me.
I can vibe with that.
“Bet,” I say, and lift the can in time with Kaity.
We both take a few deep breaths and then have a tiny sip. At first it’s just liquid, then it hits my tongue and I gag, immediately spitting it back out.
“Shit.” I keep spitting but the flavor lingers on my tongue. It’s so bitter, like a bag of stale coffee beans mixed with dirt and piss.
“Yuck.” Kaitlynn starts spitting too. “Oh hell no!”
“Yeah, no. Me neither.” I throw my can in the big plastic bag tied around the table. How can they like that? “Guess I’m never getting drunk.”
“Probably best,” Kaitlynn says. “That tasted like piss.”
“You’ve drunk piss?” I ask.
“You know what I mean,” she says.
For a moment we stand there, not a word said between us, watching everyone else rioting around the campfire, screaming, and yelling, and dancing.
It’s wild, but I feel so out of place still.
Even with my mind numb and somehow still racing, it all feels foreign to me.
They look so thrilled and excited. It’s like they’re having the time of their life out here under the stars in their crowds of people, with their nasty pee beer, but it’s just not me.
“You want to leave?” Kaitlynn nudges my arm like the mind reader I swear she is sometimes.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” I agree, and without a moment to spare we’re both off to the car. “We could go back to the Harrel House!”
“Why?” Kaitlynn whines, sliding into the driver’s seat.
“Why not?” I ask. “At least it’s not getting drunk at a bonfire. So much more fun.”
“But is that really a good idea?” Kaitlynn leans toward me. “Like that’s where, uh…you and…you know? Plus, your mom hates it when you go places like that.”
I sigh. She’s right. Maybe it’s not a great idea. The whole point of tonight was not to think about him. That won’t happen there.
“What about that abandoned house near downtown?” I ask. That should be okay.
“Did you only hear half of what I said?” I don’t answer, and she throws her head back all dramatic. “Fine. Whatever. Which one?”
Okay, that’s fair. There are a few.
“The green one next to that oil change place,” I tell her. It’s the best I’ve got. Directions are not my forte, and I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the oil change place.
“Jiffy’s?” Kaitlynn asks.
“Uh…I don’t think so,” I say. “It’s the one with the blue sign.”
“You mean Helton’s Muffler shop?” Kaitlynn shakes her head.
“Maybe,” I say. Maybe it was Helton’s. I thought that was an oil change place. “Is that the one with the ATM out front?”
“Yeah, you’re talking about Helton’s.”
I shrug. “Sure, that house.”
“That’s a little public, isn’t it?” Kaitlynn asks. “What if someone sees us?”
Okay, another valid point. Why is she being so logical when I need her to just agree?
I need something to get my mind out of this slump, and there is nothing like slinking through the dark, empty halls of an abandoned house.
The adrenaline of it all, wondering if you’ll get caught, or if there’s something scary inside—it’s invigorating. I need invigorating.
“Run?” I suggest.
“I hate you.” Kaitlynn groans.
“Sweet, let’s go!”