Seventeen Years Ago #2
‘Don’t be a wuss. It’s full of fruit and vitamins and shit. You’ll be right.’
I don’t want to annoy her. After all she did invite me over to dance with them all. I take the drink and lean against the wall, giving my legs a break from having to hold me up.
Wanting to rejoin the dancing, I down half the cup and put it down on the coffee table which has been pushed up against the wall to make way for the dance floor, except I miss and it tumbles off onto the floor. ‘Whoops,’ I say with a giggle.
‘Game time,’ shouts out Shannon, walking into the room waving a bottle of vodka in one hand and Coke in the other. ‘Fuzzy Duck. Who’s in?’
Everyone begins to sit in a circle on the floor and I feel sick.
I’m struck by the fact I think I’ve drunk too much and the thought of sitting down on the floor is hideous.
I think it’s time to go back to Reeni. And it’s the perfect time as I’ll not be noticed, they’ll all be too busy playing the drinking game. I edge towards the door.
‘Where are you going, Ellie? Get yourself sat down,’ says Taz.
‘I thought I’d better go,’ I mutter. The room is beginning to spin around me and everyone is staring.
‘Don’t be a bloody spoilsport,’ Taz shouts from where she’s sitting down, in the middle of the circle. ‘It’s not even late. I didn’t think you’d be a chicken.’
‘I’m not.’ I frown as my words slur into one. I push myself away from the doorframe and take a wobbly step forwards. I already feel like the odd one out at school, I’d do anything to avoid making that worse. If I do this one thing surely I can then get away back to Reeni?
‘I’m in,’ I declare to the group, throwing my hands wide, and they make room for me to sit in and complete the circle.
Shannon recaps the rules. ‘The words “Fuzzy Duck” have to be said by everyone one after the other until someone decides to say “Does he?” and then the words rebound back in the opposite direction with the next person saying “Ducky Fuzz” until you get a “Does he?” again. If you get it wrong, it’s a mouthful of vodka and Coke down in one.
’ She waves the bottle of vodka above her head and we all cheer.
‘I’ll start,’ says Shaz and she says the first ‘Fuzzy Duck’.
It bounces around the circle and when it comes up to me, I repeat it like everyone else.
It’s getting quicker and quicker and my head is beginning to spin.
The girl opposite me, who’s in my maths class, says, ‘Does he?’ in a very cool fashion.
The girl next to her in the electric-blue dress obviously doesn’t hear her because she says, ‘Fuzzy Duck,’ and the whole group screeches at her: ‘Drink. Drink.’
‘Hey, Em, here you go.’ Shannon has poured out a vodka and Coke into a shot glass and hands it over. Everyone thumps the floor and shouts ‘Down, down,’ as the girl tips her head back and swallows the liquid whole.
Then the whole thing starts up again … Ducky Fuzz … Ducky Fuzz … Ducky Fuzz… It’s coming around to me and I’m trying to concentrate, but my tummy is swirling and the sick feeling is reaching halfway up my windpipe. I don’t feel great. The blonde girl before me speaks so I spit out, ‘Ducky Fuzz.’
The whole group shouts at me. ‘Wrong. Drink. Drink.’
Shit, did she say, ‘Does he?’?
Shannon begins to pour the drink.
I wave my hands at Shannon. ‘Give me the cola.’
‘That’s not fair,’ shrieks Taz. ‘You bloody cheat.’
Shannon pauses, the bottle hanging in mid-air. ‘I know.’ She scrambles to her feet. ‘We’ll make you something to drink in the kitchen. Something to down in one. Taz, come on.’
There’s an uncomfortable buzz around the group while we all wait for them to come back.
When they do, Taz is holding the shot glass aloft as if it’s a trophy and there’s a dark murky liquid in it.
She hands it over to me. I sniff it and wince.
Thank God I don’t seem to have morning sickness anymore because I’m sure it would have knocked me sick.
The whole group has taken to chanting, ‘Down in one. Down in one,’ as they bang on the floor. I squeeze my eyes tight shut and tip my head back and pour the liquid down my throat. The group cheer wildly.
The drink is vile.
The minute it hits my stomach it wants to come back up. Acid leaches into the back of my throat and my mouth fills with saliva which I try frantically to swallow. I can’t be sick, here, now.
The girl next to me says, ‘Are you OK?’ She leans in to look me in the face. ‘Oh shit, no you’re not.’
‘I’m going to be sick,’ I mutter. ‘Bathroom.’
She scrambles to her feet a lot quicker than I do and puts a hand under my armpit to haul me up. ‘What the hell was in that?’ she spits out at Taz.
‘Some stuff out of the kitchen cupboards. She’ll be fine. It’s not alcohol.’
I’m heaving, my whole torso is pitching forwards and I’m trying desperately to not spew all over the floor.
‘I don’t think so,’ the girl spits back. ‘You’ll be OK,’ she says more gently to me and leads me out of the lounge door. I have no idea who she is, but I’m very grateful to her.
My legs are wobbly and I can’t see straight. I bang my shoulder off the door and stumble forwards.
‘Woah there. Steady.’ She leans me against the doorframe of the toilet under the stairs and wrenches open the door.
My head feels too heavy to hold up and I collapse it against the painted wood.
The floor shifts beneath me and I heave, directing my stream of vomit towards the toilet bowl.
When I’ve nothing more to release I wipe my mouth with some toilet paper and push my hair behind my ears.
Bits of it are wet and sticky and stink. I gag all over again.
‘How you doing?’ The girl’s voice is gentle.
‘I feel ill.’ I struggle up and sit on the closed toilet seat. Leaning sideways, I press my face into the cool tiled wall and close my eyes to stop the world from spinning.
‘What the hell did you give her?’ hisses someone.
I try to concentrate on the voices, but everything is becoming a blur and I can’t open my eyes to try to make sense of anything. The words come in snapshots and nothing seems to make a sentence.
‘Not vodka. … Thought it’d be OK. … Punch. … Not fruit. … Vinegar. … Mustard. … Bicarb. … Vodka.’
And then Shannon’s arms are around me and she’s pulling me off the seat. ‘Think you’d better go home.’
I stutter, ‘H … home.’ And lean my head on her shoulder.
The cold air hits me when we walk outside and I throw up all over again.
‘Yuck. Mind my dress will you.’ Shannon jerks away from me and my legs buckle under me.
‘Reeni’s,’ I say weakly.
She half drags me as I stumble and lurch down the pavement. Somehow we make it back and the last thing I remember is having the duvet tucked around me and someone stroking my hair across my forehead.