Sober

About twenty minutes later, Nick finishes yet another beer. I had lost count, which was worrying, but it also didn’t help that everyone else here also scattered their bottles and solo cups all over the floor. I was only on my fourth and sure as hell wasn’t sober or merely buzzed, but I was doing better than Nick, whose personality and reasoning did a complete 180.

Somewhere along the way, he threw his hoodie at me because he got hot, despite not wearing anything under it. He tried to take his pants off too, but couldn’t master his dollar store belt.

He even went off and started talking to the other guys in the basement, and I often followed him around to make sure he didn’t bust his ass, yet no matter what, he always came back to me. After mingling once, he returned to me with a lampshade on his head, and though that logically would’ve been the focal point, I couldn’t stop staring at his chest.

He stumbles back over to me and falls into my lap with a curse since he might as well be walking around with blackout glasses.

“Nikki, do you want the last beer?”

He punches me in the arm. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

I chuckle and lift the lampshade a bit so I can see his expression. “Really though, do you want it?”

He shakes his head, and as he takes the lampshade off, his hair falls unevenly, though I can still see a good portion of his face for once. He stares at me for a good while, still sitting with his legs behind me. He looks so lost, but I feel the same way—like a warm, wet noodle.

Nick wraps his arms behind my neck and leans his head on my shoulder with a groan. I flinch, feeling his breath against my ear, not to mention he was radiating so much warmth that I thought I was gonna catch on fire.

“You smell good,” He murmurs, pressing his face into my neck, and I tense up. I sure as hell didn’t think this is what I’d be getting myself into when I asked him to drink. Then again, it’d been forever since I had a guy on my lap instead of a girl, and I forgot how good it felt.

“Thanks,” I chuckle and rest my hands on his waist, though the action makes him groan again, and I freeze up.

“Can…you do me solid? Just sit here and like…be a pillow. I swear,” He hiccups. “Only for a couple of seconds… D-Don’t let anything happen to me… I just…”

The brunette continuously rubs one of his hands up and down my neck, almost holding me like he’s trying to kiss my jawline. 

“I’m just tired,” He finally finishes, and I exhale.

For someone who’s tired, he sure as hell shuffles around a shit ton. I scoot back against the wall, and Nikki wiggles some more, holding me tighter with his face still in my neck. Though, just as I’m about to tell him off, he starts snoring quietly in my ear.

It’s the cutest yet most mildly obnoxious thing ever, and I chuckle to myself because of it. 

I begin to zone out, staring into space in the basement, but then my eyes focus on Zeke walking over to me. His cheek is terribly bruised, and his eye is swollen and black. 

“Don’t say a word,” He snaps, clearly embarrassed.

I chuckle in response and then he smirks.

“I see you’ve found my roommate, and he’s drunk at that.”

I nod.

“Want me to get him off you?”

“No, it’s fine.”

Zeke groans and kneels beside me, combing some of his mahogany hair out of his eyes. “God Kyler, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. Nick has no substance. All he does is read and write, regardless of school, and has no interesting stories, hobbies—nothing.”

I shrug awkwardly, mildly unsettled by his opinions of his roommate. 

“He contributes nothing…except for when he’s drunk. He’ll literally do anything,” He says with a weird grin.

I feel my stomach turn, and I rub Nick’s back slightly. He continues to sleep on my shoulder, the volume of his snores varying every few seconds.

“Like, I remember once he mistook some soap for chocolate, and many times, he’s genuinely talked to his reflection. Once we were all buying garbage from infomercials, and he bought over a hundred dollars worth of candy!” Zeke laughs as I continue to sit there, confused.

“Let’s see, he’s given Nathanael Khan a lap dance, stolen traffic signs—one of which he mistook for a person.”

Zeke continues to go on and on, and I quickly zone out, mindlessly nodding my head every time he glances at me. Eventually, he ran out of fingers to count all of Nick’s feats.

“Anyway, the shit he’s done is top tier and funny as hell!”

I missed half of what he said, but to most drunk people, everything is hilarious, so I suppose he amused plenty of people.

“We have an album of a bunch of drunk mishaps led by my friends and stuff, and he’s got most of the pages. Though he hasn’t come to one of these in a while, and I think everyone needs a laugh,” He says as his eyes drift to Nick’s limp body.

“And… I’m not sure what your girlfriends would think if they came down here and saw a guy sleeping on you.”

I blush and roll my eyes. “He just passed out. I didn’t pull him into me.”

Zeke squints, glancing at my arms which were still around the smaller guy’s waist.

“He’s literally in your lap.” He states, skeptical while glaring at me. His eyes match the shade of his hair, both of which contrast oddly with his dark skin tone, and I have trouble deciding whether he’s hot or terrifying. Not to mention, the scar through his brow looks like he got attacked by some rabid animal.

My face starts to burn, and I scoff. “F-Fine, whatever. You can take him.”

Zeke’s face lights up, his demeanor changing immediately, and he scoops up Nick. “Much obliged. To be honest, I don’t know how you don’t recall any of his dumb antics since you’re at like, almost every party.”

I scratch the back of my neck. “Uh, yeah I guess,” I mumble. 

Maybe I’ve just been going to the wrong parties but based on what this kid told me, maybe it’s better that I missed out. I’m sure there are some notes in that book somewhere about these idiots getting arrested or at least fined.

Zeke starts walking towards the stairs, and I grab Nick’s hoodie, chasing after him. 

“What, you wanna see what he can get into?” He asks me, turning his head back as light from the TV reflects off his lip ring.

I shrug as we venture back to the first floor. There were still tons of people, and Zeke’s clique swarms him when they see Nick in his arms, chanting the name ‘Baker’ which I assume is the darker guy’s surname.

He places the brunet on the couch, and I stare at him worryingly. Someone suddenly grabs my shoulder, and I whip around, almost punching them until I realize it’s Deja. 

She flinches with a laugh. “Where’ve you been? You missed the whole fight! I beat Zeke senseless!!” She says and places her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, I can tell.” I smile and glance beside me, watching as Nick sits up while rubbing his eyes. He mumbles something to himself and then hiccups, though Zeke notices instantly and returns to his friend, presenting some cash.

“Nick!” Zeke yells. “I’ll give you fifty bucks if you manage to impress us tonight like the good ol’ days!”

The smaller guy looks right past the money and at me instead, though, in his drunken state, it looks more like he’s staring through me. He wobbles over to me and Deja but doesn’t say anything. 

“H-Hey,” I mutter with a smile as Zeke goes off on another tangent with the crowd.

Nick blushes and stays quiet.

“Alright, alright!” Zeke begins. “Deja, oh darling Deja,” He says in a bothered tone and then coughs. “Since you, y’know, won the fight and all, how about you initiate the first dare?”

His group cheers for her, and she freezes up, unsure of what to do. Nick, completely unaware of the current situation, leans into the crook of my neck, hugging me again. I end up locking eyes with some woman across the room and in a flash, grab his shoulders and make him face away from me. But since he won’t stand up straight and stop wobbling, I use it as an excuse to keep my hands there.

As Deja proceeds to stand beside me, brainstorming and confused, Zeke goes and whispers something in her ear that causes her face to light up.

“Wait, really?!” She exclaims, and he nods in response to whatever it was.

“Well okay,” She begins with a grin and then turns to Nick, smirking. “Would you give Ky here a lap dance for fifty dollars? I’ll even give you an extra twenty—I’ve heard you’re experienced,” She says with a smirk.

Immediately, a rush of heat courses through my body as the crowd murmurs and laughs, all while Nick turns to look at me. Just him sitting on my lap earlier was enough lap action I needed for one day. 

I scowl at my friend. “D, are you fuckin crazy? What would I even get outta that?! If you wanna see him do that so much, how about you ask him for one?!” I yell.

Deja jumps. “Okay, okay—I’m sorry! I thought it would be funny! I couldn’t even think of anything, blame Zeke.”

I massage my temples and glance at Nick who’s still standing in front of me. And this was supposed to be fun? He completely lost the glow he had when we were alone in that corner downstairs. Now he looked either seconds from vomiting, crying, or both.

“Are…you okay?” I ask, but just as I reach out to touch his face, Zeke pulls him away from me, startling the both of us.

He starts handing Nick more beers which he chugs, and my stomach turns at the sight. I glance at Deja, who seems to be intrigued just like everyone else, meanwhile my hands won’t stop shaking. I should’ve just kept him downstairs with me.

Why do I care if a girl sees me with him? I’m not even into them, so why do I feel like it matters so much? Not to mention, people are scattered around the house doing that kind of shit too. At least we’re not banging in the middle of the hallway!

Zeke’s friends start chugging beers with Nick, already ready to do some dumb stunt. At this rate, Nick was gonna drink himself into the hospital, and not just from alcohol poisoning.

“Deja,” I whisper as I grab her arm. “I need to talk to you.”

“W-What is it?” She asks as I pull her into the kitchen and lean against the wall.

“What time is this thing over?”

Her eyes widen. “Huh? Since when does Kyler Wells ask when parties end?!” She asks in disbelief.

I attempt to take a deep breath as my heartbeat keeps increasing. “I… I don’t like Zeke and his crew and whatever the fuck they’re doing with Nick,” I state, pulling at my shirt collar.

“Ky, before today you didn’t even know who he was. And not only that, literally nothing has happened. You’re overreacting,” She scoffs.

“I know… I mean, I just feel like this is gonna go downhill really fast.”

D sighs and rubs my shoulder. “Dude, it’ll be fine. He’s just that one drunk guy—this is normal. Stuff like this goes down all the time. You just never see because you’re too busy getting pussy,” She says and laughs.

I punch the wall, and she jumps away from me. “Deja I’m being serious! Why the hell does this sit so right with you?! That guy looks dead inside! Doesn’t that concern you?!”

She gives me a very anxious look but doesn’t respond.

“God, I’m not doing this. I’ll see you back at the apartment,” I hiss as I grab a beer from the fridge. 

Deja snatches my arm. “Um—that’s not how it works, and you know it! We go home together! It’s not even two yet!”

I pull my arm back with a groan. “Come on!”

The woman steps into my face. “No, Kyler! How about you go and busy yourself in the basement or some shit?! Just sit down, shut up, and drink!”

I laugh. “Oh, sure! I’ll just sit there for three hours with no one to talk to!”

“Says the ENFP who befriends like ten new people at each of these things.”

I ball up my fist and Deja glances at my hand, raising her eyebrow. “Really? You’re gonna fight me over some little bitch boy who can’t hold his alcohol?”

“No! It’s that you have no empathy at all! You know me! We’re friends—roommates, too! Yet me being genuinely uncomfortable about something doesn’t faze you at all!”

Deja shoves me. “You’re overacting over a complete stranger! Even if you do something, he probably won’t even remember you tomorrow!”

I tense up and feel a twinge in my throat. “S-So what! I don’t need to be rewarded by a memory—I just don’t want him to die!”

“Kyler, he will be fine! Get yourself together—you’re acting like a baby!”

“Yeah, well you’re acting like a bitch!”

Just then, Deja smacks me right in the face, and it causes my eyes to water. I struggle to look at her, and neither of us says anything. Part of me feels bad for what I guess was overstepping, but just because I haven’t known Nick for twenty-four hours doesn’t mean I can’t try and be a good friend.

As Deja silently leaves the kitchen, I hear a ton of commotion coming from the living room—or at least more than there usually is.

I chase the sound and run into Zeke who’s utterly plastered, filming with his cell phone. Nick’s at the bottom of the stairs in a laundry basket, and at the top, I see more of his friends, prepared to follow his example.

“What the hell happened?!”

Zeke swats me away. “Shut up, shut up! You’re gonna mess up the video!!”

Just as the other guys are about to slide down, I yank Nick out of the way, who can’t even stand up. He clings to my shirt for dear life, but due to his lack of balance, he eventually slides onto the floor.

I quickly look away as the other guys crash and boom down the staircase and surprisingly run back up, preparing to do it again.

Zeke finishes filming while cackling like an idiot and then shows me the video he had already gotten of Nick. It makes me sick in the same way the scent of the basement did, so I quickly give it back.

“What the hell dude?! This kid could’ve seriously gotten hurt—he’s so drunk he can’t even stand. At this rate, he’s better off passing out somewhere!”

Zeke and his friends groan, which is a lot, mind you. The crowd mutters over the boom box that keeps blasting annoying pop music in the background.

“Come on Kyler, learn to laugh a little. Otherwise, why even go to a party? This is normal.”

“Why can’t you just fuck around with your regular friends? Nick doesn’t even belong here!” I shout as Zeke rolls his eyes.

“Well, what’s it to you?” He scoffs and grabs his friend back. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know he exists.”

I exhale. “That’s it, I’m leaving.”

Just as I place my hand on the doorknob, Deja comes out of nowhere and clings to my arm. Truthfully, I hoped she had run off and gotten distracted by something else.

“Kyler, but what about me?!” She cries.

I grab her arm and drag her out of the house, slamming the door behind me. She attempts to keep my pace as I storm down the sidewalk.

“Dude, what the fuck?! You know I wanted to stay—there’s something seriously wrong with you!”

I let go of her and quickly turn around. “Well, you can either stay in that cesspool of a frat house with those idiots and get left behind or leave with me right now! You can stand up for yourself, so I don’t see why we need to be each other’s chaperones!”

Deja glares at me, and her voice starts shaking. “Why did you have to go and ruin everything?! I was having fun, and so was everyone else! I get that you weren’t, but we all can’t win—sometimes you have to make sacrifices.”

I stare intently at the ground, tensing up again, and against any control, tears start falling from my eyes, and Deja gasps.

“K-Kyler? Wait, are you crying?” She asks and takes a step forward.

“Shut up,” I mutter. “Just shut your fucking mouth and go back to that stupid party, okay?! I don’t care what you want—I’m going back home!”

Before she could say anything, I sprint off in the opposite direction, sobbing like an idiot. It took me ages to calm down, and by the time I returned home, an hour had already passed. I was sick, exhausted, and moments from throwing up.

Due to my pounding head, I collapse onto the couch, unable to make it to the bedroom. I stare at the ceiling as the room spins around me and my brain faintly replays the whole night.

That was appalling.

I haven’t cried like that in ages—especially in front of Deja.

I managed to run all the way home, holding onto that random beer bottle, but I sat it on the floor since drinking it now would definitely make me puke.

And then I noticed Nick’s hoodie still draped over my arm from when he stripped and threw it at me hours ago. I forgot to give it back, though as I roll over, engulfing my face in the scent of it, it hits me.

“Dammit,” I mutter to myself. “I cried over that idiot.”