“Yeah, this place screams murder house,” she replies.
“That’s what Ben said.” Nathan looks at me over his shoulder, still smiling.
I follow them both closely, climbing the front steps of the house with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, which isn’t saying a lot. I can already feel my stomach twisting with the beat of the bass, the floors vibrating so hard I’m shocked the pictures on the walls aren’t falling off.
If the porch outside is crowded, then the inside of the house is most definitely filled to capacity. Seriously, I don’t think any fire marshal would let this go, even if you paid them. “Do you know if Sophie’s here?” Nathan asks, his voice barely registering over the music.
Meleika has to shout. “Should be!”
“Nathan! Mel!” Some humungous white dude waves, pushing through the crowd as he makes a beeline for us.
“God. Todd’s already wasted.” Meleika turns to me. And then I realize I do know Todd. Well, vaguely, anyway. He’s in my English class, but I pretty much only ever see the back of his head. “I’m going to go find Sophie, good luck.”
“Wait, don’t leave.” I try to catch her, but Meleika’s already gone.
“Hey, Todd.” Nathan steps in front of me, probably to hide Meleika running away.
“Hey, Nate.” Todd glares right at me. “And who is this?” Either he doesn’t pay attention during roll call, or he really is drunk off his ass.
“Ben,” Nathan answers for me.
“Hey, wait! I know this guy! We’re in Mrs. Williams’s class together.” He gives me his fist. I guess to bump it, but I just stand there, awkwardly, because my hands refuse to budge. And all I say is “Yeah.”
“You drinkin’ tonight?” he asks Nathan, unbothered by my rejection.
“Nah, driving.”
“What about you?” Todd looks down at me. Jesus. I never realized what a giant this guy is.
“Oh, I don’t—” I start to say, but it’s useless. Todd can’t hear me over the music.
“Hey, Megs!” He waves over to the table in the dining room and points to me. A girl, apparently Megs, hands me a red cup filled with something that looks like pee. “We’ve got the stronger stuff in the kitchen.” Todd smacks my back, nearly making me drop the whole thing.
“So, you’re drinking?” Nathan asks.
“I guess?” I stare at my cup, filled with the very pee-like liquid. I shouldn’t drink it, I know that I shouldn’t. I don’t want to in the first place, and all the warnings about my medication. But Todd’s staring at me, and there’s this desire bubbling inside me, almost like I need to impress him. And then I see Nathan, and I don’t want him to think I can’t handle this stuff.
I sip whatever is in my cup, and it takes everything in me not to spit it out. “Blegh, what is that?”
“No good?” Nathan tries, and fails, to hide his laughter.
“No!” I shout.
Nathan’s still trying his best not to giggle. “It’s beer. Try it again, first sip’s always terrible.”
I take another, but it’s still just as bad.
“Maybe you’re not a beer man!” Todd bellows and takes my cup, leaving it on some table. “You want to get drunk?”
“Not really.”
“Come on.” Guess he still can’t hear me, or is just choosing not to. Either way his grip on my shoulder is way too tight. Todd leads me around the house, weaving through the tight crowds until we finally find what he’s looking for.
The kitchen is less crowded than the rest of the party, maybe since the music isn’t as loud. There’s a couple making out in the corner, though with the way they’re all over each other, it seems like they’re more into voyeurism than anything else. Everyone else is huddled around the island counter, chatting back and forth. I recognize Stephanie, and a few people from the cafeteria and Calculus, but that’s it.
“Everyone, this is Ben!” Todd announces us, and they all cheer for me, raising their cups. Or in a few cases, bottles. But the second they’re done cheering, they go back to their conversations, like I wasn’t even here to begin with.
“Be gentle,” Nathan says. There’s something off about his expression, like he’s worried.
“Ah, party virgin, eh?” Todd asks.
“I guess.” He says “virgin” like it’s a bad thing.
Todd leads me over to the area of the counter covered in at least three dozen different bottles, all of them left open. What sort of animals are my classmates?
“Well, can’t have that, we need to break you in. What’s your poison?” he asks.
Break me in? “I’m fine, I promise. I don’t—”
Todd doesn’t let me finish though. “Come on, I can tell you’re a man of more refined taste. Here, try this.” Todd hands me a small shot glass with a pink liquid that’s a few shades away from Pepto.
“What is it?” I ask, swirling it around in the small glass.
“Strawberry tequila,” Todd says.
Someone from the counter crowd shouts, “Todd, I think that might be a bit too strong!”
“Just try it.” Todd smacks my back again. He really needs to find other ways of displaying affection. “Here, I’ll do one with you.” Todd pours his own shot.
All my research told me that mixing one beer with a low dosage of my meds wouldn’t be a big deal, but I know for a fact tequila is stronger than beer. A lot stronger. But everyone’s staring at me now, expecting me to take the shot. I don’t need to do this, why should I care what these people think about me? But there’s that shame again, this desire to impress these people. I down the shot and holy shit, it burns, and whatever sweet taste is implied by “strawberry” definitely isn’t there. But it makes Todd and the rest of the crowd cheer, so I guess I did something right?
“You want another?” Todd asks, already holding two more.
“I don’t think so.” But another one is already in my hand.
“Come on, one more.” Todd slips his arm around my shoulder, and I don’t ever think I’ve been more uncomfortable with someone my own age so quickly.
“Seriously, I’m good.” I guess that’s enough for Todd to drop the subject. Or maybe he just forgets.
“I like this one, Nathan. He’s good people.” Todd gets in close, and I swear I could get drunk off his breath alone. Jesus, the dude needs a mint, like, yesterday.
“Thank you?” I half say, half ask.
Nathan jumps up on a clear spot of the counter. “You okay?”
“I guess?”
My head already feels fuzzy, and there’s this weird warmth in my stomach. Just after one shot? Do people really pay to feel this way?
“So, Benny boy, you having a good time?” Todd’s grip around my neck tightens, his words slurring. He doesn’t wait for my answer before he’s yelling to everyone else. “This here is Benny’s first party, everyone!”
There are a few fake cheers, actually they sound more like pity cheers.
“You look like you’re having a good time.” Todd looks back at me. “But I don’t think you’ve ever looked this good,” Todd belts out again, and I get another face full of liquor breath. “Got to show off the goods for the ladies, right? I know the feeling.” Then he slaps my ass. I need to get out of here. Has it been a half hour yet?