31. Jimmy
JIMMY
I’m strung out.
I’m done.
Thank God this party is finally over.
It’s three thirty in the morning, and two-thirds of the partygoers have driven away. All I can hope is that each car had a designated driver. I stood at the door for a while, trying to check and make sure it was safe for everyone who left, but then the sound of smashing glass pulled me away.
Mac and I cleaned it up, jumping over passed-out bodies on the furniture.
Seriously.
I’ve never been near anything this wild before. It’s so not my scene.
But neither is a stuffy black-tie event with my parents.
So where do I belong, then?
The question is plaguing me as my tired brain tries to finish cleaning up so I can go to bed. If I have a bed. I won’t be shocked to find someone passed out on my mattress when I get up there.
I hope it’s not that girl.
Not that getting a blow job didn’t feel amazing. I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. And not in a good way.
I feel ugly, like I did something wrong, and I can’t explain why.
Maybe it’s because I didn’t even know her name.
That’s probably it.
“Here.” Mac passes me a hand broom and dustpan, and I bend low to sweep up the last of the glass. “We’ll deal with the other shit in the morning. I have to crash, man.”
“Yeah, cool.” I nod, the glass clinking together as I tip it onto a bunch of paper towels and wrap it up. Carefully stowing it in the trash, I decide to take it out right now so that no one accidentally cuts themselves in the morning.
Easing out the back door as quietly as I can, I search for the outside trash cans and find a large black one with a flip lid around the side of the house.
As soon as my hands are free, I turn, wiping them on the back of my shorts and staring out at the night sky.
It’s quiet now.
Peaceful.
The scattered stars are brilliant out here with minimal light pollution, and I drink them in, awed by how vast everything feels.
Vast and… free.
Sucking a deep breath in through my nose, I soak in that feeling.
I’m free out here.
No one’s watching my every move and judging it or trying to correct it.
Sure, this party was too much.
But no one was watching me.
No one cared what I was doing.
And that felt liberating.
With a long, slow sigh, I turn and head back into the house. I’m beyond exhausted and wonder if I can even get to sleep now. But I better try for some or driving home tomorrow will be dangerous.
Home.
I shake my head.
My parents are going to grill me until I’m charcoal. They’ll want every detail, and I won’t be able to give it to them.
You’re twenty! You don’t have to tell them anything!
Cringing, I run a hand through my hair and make my way upstairs. I bump into Mac coming out of the bathroom, and he gives me a light slap on the arm.
“Have a good time tonight, man?”
“Uh…”
He starts to laugh before I can even form my lie. “I know it’s not your scene, but it’s good for you to be exposed to the real world.”
“This is not the real world.”
Mac snickers and crosses his arms. “Yeah, maybe. But neither is your life.”
I nod because it’s true.
“Glad you came.” His voice is a gravelly mess, like he’s been yelling karaoke for too many hours. He nods at me once, then shuffles off down the hallway.
I brush my furry teeth, then head to bed. Thankfully, my mattress is free, and I flop onto it, drifting into a restless sleep as I try to figure out where my place is on this vast, confusing planet and how I’m ever supposed to find my way.