The Cycle

The Tale of Two Parties

June 24th, 2011

"Dude, come on. It's a party! What do you mean you're not trying to drink?"

I huffed in exasperation. I'd spent the last fifteen minutes trying to get it through his head that I didn't want to make a drunken fool of myself, but clearly I had forgotten who I was talking to. Lars' brain didn't work like normal people. Parties, fun, and drunken idiocy all go hand in hand for him and that was the only way he understood. I, on the other hand, had different plans for this party; plans that would go much smoother if I had complete control over my motor functions.

Tonight was going to be the night. It had to be the night. I was already three weeks into the summer of my junior year; I was well past the deadline for me to accomplish The Goal. I looked over at Lars, who was shoving the french fries into his nose to see if they would stick and couldn't help but wonder if my choice of company had anything to do with my current predicament. There was no way I should be sitting in a burger joint on a beautiful Friday, watching my friend play with his food like a five year-old. No, there was supposed to be a beautiful girl sitting across from me, eating a salad (or whatever she wanted) delicately, while staring at me with a look in her eyes that made me feel like there was nowhere else she would rather be. And my face would reflect the same look back to her.

"Whoaa, Earth to Carter! Hello? Come in, Carter?" Lars was holding his french fry carton up like it was the broadcasting end of a CB radio. He made the "ccchh, over" noise,exagerrated and loudly causing me to check over my shoulders to make sure no one I knew was here.

"What's up, idiot?"

"You had that look on your face again. That dumb love-struck, "I'm-thinking-about-The-Goal" look." He eyed me suspiciously.

"I don't know what you mean." I answered. Although, I knew it was pointless. Lars had been my friend since Kindergarten. I couldn't lie to him anymore than he could to me. It wasn't that I had a tell or anything, we just knew each other too well.

"Yeah, right. So what, fantasizing about what's-her-tits again?"

"What's-her-tits?" I laughed. He was talking about this girl, Valerie, that I'd been crushing on for a while. "No, you dick, I wasn't. I'm over her," I lied, then decided to change the subject before he could catch me in that one too. "Dude, we're going to be seniors in like two months. Seniors, Lars. Don't you think it's about time you stopped sticking things up your nose and referring to girls by their bust?"

Always one with a witty retort he came back instantly. "Don't you think it's time for you to stop acting like some washed up celebrity that's looking for love on a VH1 show and get laid? While we're playing the ‘Don’t-You-Think Game’, don’t you think it’s even weirder for a 16 year old boy’s main goal,” he put the word in air quotes, “to be to fall in love?"

I laughed then fired back a retort of my own. "My bad, I suppose I should just go out and bang the sluts of the school like you? Nah, bruh, as corny as it sounds, I want my first time to be with someone that I at least like."

"Right. Well, you'd be surprised how a little alcohol can make everyone seem like someone you like," he said with an all too familiar grin. I'd seen that grin many times before, and nothing good ever came of it. I saw it every year on April 1st, when Lars would always find some way to embarrass me with whatever April Fool's joke he had been planning for the last few months. I still opened my door with caution, checking for falling amphibians, because of his this year's April Fool's prank--and it was the end of June now. Whenever Lars smiled like that, he was up to something. And I didn't want him sabotaging my chances at achieving The Goal tonight.