6. The Drink
six
The Drink
“ H ey,” Brad says. I’m sitting on the stairs, trying to breathe, trying to figure out what to do next. “I thought I told you not to move. I don’t want anyone to take our spot.” He sits on the stairs next to me..
“What were you talking to Lexie about?” I ask.
“Lexie? When?” He sets the bottles on the floor.
“Just now.”
He shrugs, “I don’t know, the game or something like that.” He drapes his arm across my shoulders. “Sorry it took so long. I had to dig for your water. Can you believe ?they keep it in the back of the fridge?”
He leans over and kisses me. With his arm still around me, he picks up the water bottle. Then he pulls me against his chest so he can use his other hand to open it. I can’t tell if it was sealed before he opened it or not. He hands me the water and picks up his beer.
I stare at the bottle in my hand.
He raises his beer bottle to his lips and watches me while he drinks. I hold the water up to the little bit of light, looking for... I don’t even know what I should be looking for.
“What?” Brad lowers the beer and looks at me over his bottle. “After I dug clear in the back of the fridge, you’re not even going to drink it?”
“What did you put in my drink?” My voice sounds far away, like I’m not the one who’s talking.
“What?”
“What did Lexie give you to put in my drink?” I still don’t recognize my own voice.
“What? Nothing.” His voice gets louder and defensive. It reminds me of my little brother, Tyler when he gets caught doing something wrong and tries to deny it. “I didn’t even talk to Lexie.”
“You just said you did. And I saw you.”
“Don’t drink it then.” He takes the bottle from me and sets it on the stairs. “Look, if you’re going to be paranoid, I can take you home.”
“No, I’m sorry.” I don’t want to mess things up with Brad. “Forget I said anything.” I pick up the bottle and take a little sip. I swish it around in my mouth, but I taste nothing. I am paranoid. I take another drink and then set the bottle down.
I wrap my arms around him. “Where were we?” I lean in to kiss him. At first, he won’t kiss me back, like he’s still mad. It doesn’t take much to get him to respond.
“I think about right here.” He picks me up and carries me back to the couch, holding me on his lap as he sits down.
I’m trying to relax, trying to kiss him back. Making out on the couch at a party is just something you do when you have a boyfriend. Everybody does it. His hands move across my stomach, fingering the waistband of my jeans. I push it away.
“Just relax.” He kisses my forehead, then slides his nose down my cheek and nibbles at my neck.
My head feels foggy. The smoke from the next room must be getting to me. I shake my head to clear it, but it doesn’t help. I’m fighting to keep my eyes open.
Maybe there was something in that drink.
“Wait.” I stop kissing Brad and put my hand on his chest, pushing him away. He pushes back and it hits me how much stronger than me he is. “Stop.”
“Just relax.” He moves so my arm is pinned between him and the couch.
I’m trapped. “Let me go.” I say it louder. My voice sounds far away. I’m afraid if I wait any longer, I’ll lose myself completely. “I want to go home.”
He leans into my neck and whispers, “You don’t want to do that, babe. You’re nothing without me.” I work my hand free, push his face away from my neck, but I can’t make him move. And he isn’t listening.
"Let me go!" I panic, grab his cheek, and dig my fingernails in hard.
“What the—” he jumps back, off the couch. The marks I left on the side of his face are turning red and filling with blood.
I’m horrified at what I just did. I get up from the couch and take a step towards him. “Brad I’m sorry I just—”
“You little bitch!” He grabs my shoulders and pushes me backward. I stumble over the table, knocking over the picture of the little boy.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, huddling against the wall.
Brad steps toward me. His fists clench, and his jaw tightens. I close my eyes and wait for the blow to come.
It doesn’t.
“Dude, she’s not worth it.” When I open my eyes, Grant has his hand on Brad’s shoulder. It feels like the entire party has come in to watch the show.
“You’re right,” Brad lets me go. I stumble forward, but catch myself before I go down. He presses his hand against his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He won’t look at me. “Get away from me.”
I stumble past the crowd toward the door without making eye contact, but I still see the looks on their faces, embarrassment, shock, and amusement. No one offers to help.
Lexie smiles at me. The dim light of the room glints on a bit of silver as she unwraps a stick of gum. She folds it in her mouth with a look of pure triumph.