Only the Good Die Young

Chapter 16.4

I want to be cool, so I suck on the straw and pretend it's lemonade. The liquid flows into my mouth and floods my tongue. It's sweet but has a gross metallic tang to it that bites at the sides of my tongue. I swallow it quickly and try not to appear disgusted. Then, for emphasis, I sip some more. Kyle looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

"Hey, Rebecca," says Jesse, "what – "

"Can you keep it down for a second?" says Kyle. "I came here to hear the band, after all."

Jesse winks at me and I wink back. We sit in silence for ten minutes, sipping our respective drinks while Kyle concentrates on the stage. Eventually Jesse gets bored. "Hey, Red," he says, ignoring a glance from Kyle, "want to play a game?"

My body is warm and tingly. Is it from the drink or from Jesse being so casual with me? I take another sip. "What kind?" I ask.

"I used to play it back in Nelson. It's called 'I've Never.'"

The fingers of Kyle's free hand rapidly drum the table. "I don't like drinking games," he says.

This is something I've never understood. If the point is to get drunk, why do people make up arbitrary games instead of just downing everything in sight? Are they trying to hide a problem?

"Oh, lighten up," says Jesse.

"How do you play it?" I ask. Kyle can pout if he wants. After everything that's happened today, I'm having a good time.

"It's simple. You – "

"You go around in a circle," Kyle cuts in. "You say something you've never done. Anyone who's done whatever you've said has to take a drink."

"It's just a way of getting to know people," says Jesse.

Normally I would raise all sorts of walls around me if a guy suggested something like this, but for some reason I don't feel defensive. A picture forms in my head of hundreds of cartoon construction workers clutching half-empty bottles of booze, asleep.

"Sure, why not?" I say. "Who goes first?"

"I'll go," says Jesse. "But there's not a lot I haven't done." He thinks. "I've never kissed a guy."

I remember my first grade kiss with Tyler Campbell back in Toronto. "That means I have to drink?" I ask. Jesse nods.

"Your turn, Red," he says, when my glass is back on the table.

I grin. "I've never played the drums," I say. Then I hastily add, "or the guitar."

Jesse smirks and takes a large sip of his beer. Kyle's body language clearly shows he wants nothing to do with this, but on his face is the fear of being left out. He raises his bottle and the two of us drink.

"I've never downloaded songs from the internet," says Kyle, looking pointedly at me.

"I've never downloaded rock songs," I say, somewhat defensively. "Does that count?" Kyle shakes his head.

"I think you're a little isolated, Red," says Jesse. He takes a swig of his beer.

"Maybe a little," I say, taking a sip. I'm working on it.

The metallic tang of the Long Island Iced Tea is becoming less offensive. I'm either getting a taste for it or my tongue is losing feeling. Isn't alcohol a local anesthetic?

"I've never failed an exam," I say, staring at Jesse, waiting for him to raise his beer. This is a lie. I failed a math test after Kyle and I argued over Dangerous Liaisons, and it was the first one in my life. I expect Jesse to drink, but instead he just flashes me a smile.

"Bullshit," says Kyle.

"What can I say?" says Jesse, facetiously puffing out his chest like a gorilla. "I'm a genius."

"Maybe," mumbles Kyle, "but you're a shitty drummer." Then he glances at both of us and says, "I've never cheated on a test." Jesse shrugs and takes a drink. I raise my glass.

"No way," says Kyle.

I nod. "It was in kindergarten. I couldn't remember what colour you'd get if you mixed blue and red – "

"Purple," the boys chorus.

"Yeah, purple. So I took two crayons out of my pencil case and scribbled on my desk."

Jesse scoffs. "That doesn't count."

My story of elementary school misconduct wasn't the hit I thought it would be, and the three of us reach for our glasses so we're busy during the awkward silence. I can't decide if this game is exhilarating or retarded.

"This is boring," says Jesse, setting his bottle back on the table. "Where's the dirt?"

"I've never done drugs," I challenge. Get a shovel, dear.

Jesse laughs and takes a sip of his drink. Kyle hesitates, then takes a sip. "Just pot," he says. "I wanted to see if it would help me play better."

"Kyle, you bad, bad man," mocks Jesse. "Did it?"

Kyle picks at the label on his beer. "I can't really remember." Jesse laughs and playfully punches him in the shoulder. Kyle half-smiles, but it's obvious to me he wants to drill Jesse in the face. "I've never dropped the beat," says Kyle, setting his bottle down and looking directly at Jesse.

Ooh, this is getting interesting. I like drinking games.

Jesse stands and goes to the bar without saying a word. When he's out of earshot, Kyle turns to me. "I don't know if this is a good idea, Rebecca."

A strange excitement runs through my body. I'm happy and giddy and confident and charming. I'm having the time of my life.

"Oh, lighten up," I say. I try to wink at him but end up squinting ridiculously. Giant breathy laughs escape my throat.

Jesse returns with another round and the game continues, but after fifteen minutes or so, "I've Never" starts to bore us. "I want to play something else," I announce. The boys are on their third beer and I'm on my second Long Island. Or is it my third? I can't remember.

"Forget this," says Kyle. "I came here for the music."

"Don't be such a stick-in-the-mud," says Jesse. "I know another game. It's called 'The Worst Day of My Life.'"

"Sounds retarded," mutters Kyle, shifting his chair to focus on the stage.

As Jesse explains the rules, I feel someone behind me and look over my shoulder.

"Can I play, too?" says Alex.