Sober

Throughout grade school, I was one of the kids who would get looks after summer break like, “What? I thought they would’ve gotten held back.”

Sure, I would complete my work, but whenever anyone of worth saw me, I was always off doing some dumb shit. While I never got suspended like a few of my friends, and only got detention for skipping class now and then, I was still sneaking out past curfew, breaking minor laws, and, primarily in high school, was always acting like a fool.

Thanks to my brothers, my looks, and my personality, I was the middle schooler who would get invited to high school parties and eventually became the high schooler who got invited to ones residing on college campuses.

As a kid, it seemed like a flex, whereas now it was a regular occurrence in my schedule.

Despite being a junior in college and having practical ways to kill time on the weekends, I always chose to spend my Friday and Saturday evenings at various frat houses and brothels.

I would still show up to work on time and make sure to cram in some studying and well-needed sleep, but these were my definition of catching up with friends. Hell, they were my stress relief and had become a primary hobby of mine. I was passing my classes, so who cares what else I spent my time doing?

Given that it was another Friday of the first semester, everyone knew where to find me.

I glance at the clock, and despite the party only having started an hour ago, I could already count at least three kids who blacked out and many others who were so shitfaced that it wouldn’t be long until they joined the group.

And that was only in the living room.

I sit on the couch surrounded by chicks which is a norm for me, along with my best friend, who, despite knowing them like the back of her hand, stood out like a sore thumb.

A few guys I recognize cheer her on as she chugs each beer they hand her, and as she slams her third bottle down, I laugh while watching her crop-top creep up her stomach. Though, as she catches my gaze, she sticks her tongue out, flashing the small gem that resided in the area. It always looks like she has glitter in her mouth because of it. 

“Hey, Kyler!” Deja beams and reaches out to hand me a bottle. “Why don’t you join me?” 

I politely decline, which only makes her more eager to recruit me.

“Aw, come on, I noticed you haven’t had a single drink.” The girl smirks as half of her afro falls into her eyes, though she bats it away like a fly. “What? Are you in AA now or something?”

I snicker while hiding my face a bit. “Fuck no, dude!”

Given Deja is my best friend from grade school and my current roommate, her top priority is embarrassing me or pissing me off since she often thinks I’m cute when I’m mad.

“There’s nothing good to drink.” I continue. “I understand we’re all broke college students, but damn, half of y’all have no taste.”

My friend shrugs. “Eh, you know me—I’ll pretty much drink whatever.” And her posse of frat boys nods in agreement.

“If you’re that pressed about options, just bring your own shit.” A guy leaning on the doorway adds. That has always been his thing—eavesdropping from across the room and then providing unnecessary comments.

“Shit sounds like a you problem.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s not our fault your dumb barista jacked up your tastebuds. If you’re that rich and cool, why the hell are you here all the time?”

I scoff. “I’m a bartender, Adam, not a barista. I’ve said it about a hundred times by now. Is your skull really that thick?”

The blond leaves the room in a huff, given that he’s the type to start stuff and never finish it. 

“Barista or bartender, you often bring your own concoctions or whatever the hell,” Deja muses and sits in front of me on the coffee table. “They’re fuckin’ awesome!”

“Yeah!, Ky,” The chick next to me chimes in. “Honestly, you could probably start your own business!”

I smirk and curl her red hair with my finger. “You’re just saying that cuz you’re a business major and you wanna be my partner in crime.”

“Is that so bad?” She whispers, leaning into me as I kiss one of the strands.

Out the corner of my eye, I catch Deja cringe and I hold in my laugh.

“What? You jealous?” I tease and open my legs. “Don’t fret love, there’s plenty of me to go around.”

She gags, and we break into laughter. “God, no! I’d rather die!”

“Damn, you’re harsh! Even if we were the last two humans on Earth?” 

She leans on her hands, grinning. “I’d. Rather. Die.”

“Well, you’re missing out!” One of the chicks adds in, and the rest of our clique laughs, though Deja takes it as an opportunity to rat me out and hopefully get them to fall for her instead of me.

I chuckle as I watch her display, though I notice the front door open and glance towards the sound, given that the guests were late as hell.

I recognize the mahogany-haired kid, mainly because of his piercings, though his plus-one immediately pushes through the crowd, hiding in his hoodie while carrying something.

He kept his head down, though just when he glanced up and we locked eyes by mistake, he bumped into someone and scampered off, embarrassed. As soon as I blinked, I lost sight of him.

“Kyler! You bring any of that good shit?” His friend asks with a giant grin after running over to our corner of the room, though Deja quickly answers for me.

“Nope.”

As did everyone else during the night, he sighs. “Damn, seriously? I was looking forward to them this time.”

“I mean, you do realize I have to make stuff to bring right? I’m not just stealing from the bar.” I rise from the couch and stretch, trying to play off my vertigo after sitting for too long. “I didn’t have the time, and I wasn’t in the mood.

The man scoffs. “Yeah right, you probably just left ‘em on your kitchen counter or something.” He shakes his head. “Dork.”

I feel my face heat up as I start walking off. “Tch, what the hell do you know? There weren’t enough people at this party for me to feel like wasting a shit ton of money on vodka, juice, wine, and whatever the hell else I might need.”

He shrugs me off, though I turn to face him again. “Hey, you’re Zeke, right?”

He nods.

“Who came in with you?”

He gives me a confused look and then realizes who I’m referencing as he grabs a beer. “Oh, him? He’s just my roommate. Total wet blanket. Don’t bother seeking him out.”

Deja looks at me and then back at Zeke. “Then why the hell is he here?” She asks, annoyed.

The taller guy shrugs and takes my place on the couch. “Don’t worry about it.” He says flatly and starts chitchatting with my girlfriends. They don’t seem too amused by him but proceeded to be polite just for shits and giggles.

I lean against the wall and scan the house, watching as more people start dancing as each room gets louder by the second. If I took a shot for every blacked-out person I counted now, I think I’d have alcohol poisoning.

Deja walks over to me and smiles, adjusting her spiked belt. “Zeke took your girls—you on a quest for more?”

I laugh. “Not necessarily.”

The darker woman fixes her hair band and looks around before turning back to me. “Can’t blame you. There’s a lack of hot girls here, and it’s making my skin crawl, and I doubt there’s more in the basement. I just wanna work my magic,” She says and sighs.

“Well not to mention none of them are giving off that vibe,” I say and shrug.

Deja takes a sip of her beer and nudges my side, making me flinch. “Yeah, that’s cause they’re all hungry for your dick. You’re hypnotizing them!” She says and shoves me.

I snort and she starts laughing as well. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“C’mon,” She teases and attempts to mess with my bun, but I lean my head back. “They’re always lookin’ at you. And I didn’t think popular kids were a thing in college,” She mumbles. “I thought we were too old for that.”

I give her a side hug as we look around. “Then get top surgery and shave your head!” I say and point to my undercut. “Maybe then they’ll mistake you for me,” I say and wink.

My friend continues to laugh and shoves me again. “Kyler, that’s awful!” She exclaims. “I mean, not only would I look terrible with an undercut, but what am I supposed to do after all that? Whitewash myself?”

We start dying as passersby get confused by our obnoxious laughter, which causes Zeke to turn around, though he’s locked on Deja.

“Hold up,” He interrupts. “You’re that lesbian, right?”

She looks around awkwardly. “I mean, I’m a lesbian. I’m not sure what makes me that lesbian,” She says, still chuckling.

The darker male adjusts his worn T-shirt as he gets off the couch, and from the right angle, I can see fishnet underneath. “No, no, no. There’re plenty of lesbians. You’re just the one whose ensembles consist of Hot Topic clothes that are several sizes too small like you’re a goddamn middle schooler. Hate to break it to you, but that store doesn’t really…fit you.” He snickers.

Deja and I glance at each other, though I give her a wary look knowing damn well she’s not gonna take that well.

“You wanna repeat that?”

Zeke rolls his eyes. “You heard me—you know it’s not eye candy. Someone had to tell you someday. Though that won’t stop you from trying to seduce all the straight girls here.”

“I’m sorry, what?!”

“Reina was telling me how you were flirting with her like thirty minutes ago!”

Reina then pops up from another one of the couches and laughs at Zeke. “Yeah, but I never said I was straight!” She exclaims and then smiles a bit at Deja before butting back out.

Zeke rolls his eyes. “Kay, so she’s the one percent of lesbians you’ve ever found at a party.”

Deja glares and steps closer to Zeke. “Keep talking, and I’ll pour this shit beer on your head.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right. I doubt a lipstick lesbian could do any real damage anyway.” He hops around. “Oh no! What are you gonna do—mace me?”

The woman snatches a bottle from the guy beside her and swiftly dumps it onto Zeke’s, giving him the worst shower possible. As the commotion around us dies down, I nervously place my hand on her shoulder.

“D, I think you better get outta here before he beats your ass.”

She laughs and slams the glass on the floor, shattering it. “Oh, c’mon pretty boy, you think I can’t fight this wimp? If anyone should run, it’s you.”

I put my hands up and start walking toward the stairs. “Okay, okay—I tried. If you need me, I’ll be in the basement,” I mutter, though I hadn’t even reached the stairs when I heard Deja and Zeke shouting, signaling that the fight had begun. 

Deja gets into fights at every other party, I swear. I was never a fan, but she always won and amused the drunks. Speaking of—most people previously residing in the basement ran to spectate after noticing a fight broke out. 

It was so empty that if I wanted to, I had a chance to play foosball or even change the channel on the enormous flatscreen. Still, I’m more distracted by the mix of Axe body spray, cigarettes, and body odor that attacked my sinuses as soon as I came down the stairs.

I gag a bit, and as I wander around the room, I notice the kid from earlier sitting in the corner with his face in a book. With no other way to spend my time, I casually walk and join him on the floor, putting my arm around him, which causes him to flinch.

I look off to the side with a smirk. “Name’s Kyler Wells. Junior, majoring in dance. You?”

I turn back to him, but he doesn’t respond and continues to read, so I proceed to examine him, though my gaze quickly makes him uncomfortable. 

“What?” He snaps.

I look at his book and then back at him. “Wait—are you studying?! If you’re gonna do that, then why the hell are you here? Not to mention this is a terrible environment to try and concentrate,” I mumble.

He shoos me away and turns the page. “What’s it to you? The hell do you even want…” He trails off.

I smile and play with his hair while trying to see his expression, but his bangs reach down to his nose, and I can just barely see whenever he looks at me.

“Why are you hiding down here all alone?” I whisper into his ear as he flinches again, though I eventually scooted away in fear of him smacking me.

“Have you been to one of these before? I feel like I’d recognize you if so…but—I don’t know, why’d you come back? This doesn’t seem like your thing.”

He sighs and slams his book. “Why the fuck won’t you leave me alone?”

I chuckle and stare at him for a couple of seconds. I notice his eyes are a stunning shade of green, almost emerald-like, despite being hidden behind all his hair. It was like being lost in a forest, and I was almost jealous. Hence, I couldn’t look away, though it made the smaller guy antsy.

“W-Why do you keep staring at me? Seriously, what the fuck is your deal?” He scrunches up his nose and avoids my gaze.

I let out an awkward chuckle. “You had a drink yet?” I ask, attempting to change the subject.

“No.”

“Want me to get you one?”

He continues to face away from me and, yet again, says nothing.

“I mean, most of the beer around here is total dogshit, but I could probably dig around and find you something good. That’s sorta my thing.” I state proudly and touch his red ears, though he quickly smacks me and scoots back.

“Y-Yeah! How about you go do that!” He yells, scrunching up into a ball, clearly flustered.

I could tell he just wanted me to leave, but I still smiled and ruffled his hair. “Don’t go anywhere!”

I quickly return to the first floor, and the kitchen is more packed than it usually is. The fight had already ended, and I could kinda see Deja in the other room surrounded by girls. Zeke’s whereabouts were unknown to me and honestly, they could stay that way.

“Who won?” I ask the guy in the kitchen with me.

He laughs. “Deja of course! Woman’s a beast—I’d love to ask her out,” He confesses with a sigh. “Zeke’s like an entire foot taller than her, and she went apeshit! Isn’t that hot?!”

I scratch my neck. “Um, I suppose,” I respond awkwardly while beginning to dig through the fridge. In the back, I find two six packs of some brand that I’d never had before but recalled people asking for at work. 

When I get back downstairs, the bedhead kid’s still there, just scrunched up further into the corner. He had put his book away and was partly using his backpack as a pillow.

I make my way back over and sit down, starting to rub his back. “Hey, are you okay?”

He hastily moves my hand and sits up. “I’m fine.”

I smile. “Okay, good. It looked like you died for a second,” I joke, yet he doesn’t respond and I gulp.

“A-Anyway, I found two of these, so drink up, I guess!” I hand him a beer and begin to drink my own. He looks at it in disgust and sits it down.

“What? Not your brand?” I tease.

He looks at the ground. “I don’t drink.”

I scoff. “Like I’ll believe that! I tried to get the good stuff for you!”

He blushes, moving some of his hair out of his eyes and grabbing the bottle. “Why?” He asks, still not looking at me.

I wrap my arm around him and take a couple of sips, scanning the room again as more people return to the basement. “Why not?” I respond with a grin. “I mean, if this isn’t your type, I can whip up one of my own brews for you at my place,” I say with a wink.

He ignores me and finally opens his beer, but he keeps staring at it. Then, out of nowhere, he leans his head back and chugs it in about thirty seconds, slamming it on the floor once he’s done. He combs his messy hair back with his fingers, and I finally see all the beautiful features of his face.

Once again, he catches me staring at him.

“Quit doing that,” He commands harshly, clearly annoyed by my existence again.

“What’s your name?” I ask and cautiously hand him another beer. 

I shudder as he grabs it and quickly downs it all in one go, closing his eyes.

“Nick.”

He takes the rest of the pack and glances at me.

“And you say you don’t drink.”