Hoops and Dreams

[11] Water or wine?

Our school body isn't very creative when it comes to parties after a game. After a football game, the party's on the football field, after a volleyball game the party's on the football field, after a basketball game the party's on the football field. This probably has something to with the fact that teenagers whose sole purpose is to get drunk don't really like to concern themselves with the logistics.

Anika's predictions were accurate. It seems like more than half of our three thousand strong student population is here. And if any more people show up we won't fit on the field. The floodlights are on and the glare of white light fills the field. A few trucks are parked on the edge of the field and one daring vehicle has maneuvered its way onto the end-zone. The administration isn't going to be too happy when they find out but that's a problem for Monday. With keg stands and stacks of drinks with varying alcohol percentages. A crowd flocks around the trucks like moths drawn to low-lit lanterns.

Music thumps from the sound systems of each of the trucks creating an interesting blend of trap and pop music.

"What do we do now?" I ask when Anika pays the Uber driver. Unlike me, she didn't have to commit grand theft auto to get us here. She just called an Uber.

"I don't know," She whispers. Her hand slips into mine and she drags me off the sidewalk and past the fence onto the green. "But when in Rome..."

We walk over to a table packed with cans of fizzy soda and iced vodka. I watch in self-righteous disdain as she grabs one and clicks up the tab. I have to maintain my moral high ground somehow.

"You won't take one? Even the soda?"

"Your drink is less likely to get spiked if you don't have one," I say in response.

"Whatever." She says it with a grimace either from distaste at my rejoinder or the taste of her drink. I can't tell.

"Didn't you tell your dad you weren't going to drink?'' I ask.

"Yup. But I'm giving in to peer pressure tonight."

I roll my eyes and scan the field. Looking over the groups of people who've decided to spend their Friday evening in tight, skimpy clothing on open ground, in breezy weather. I can't judge them too much on that front though. I'm stuffed into one of Anika's denim mini skirts and a flannel t-shirt against my wishes of course. I didn't put up much of a fight though. I kind of like wearing something more risque than my usual get-up even though the cold whips me at every turn.

Anika props herself onto the tailgate of the truck behind us. "Don't look now but there's a pyramid of drunk cheerleaders about to topple over at three O'clock."

I turn almost immediately in the direction she's staring.

She slaps my arm, "I said don't look."

"Oww," I say rubbing the spot on my arm. "You know I'm no good at subtlety."

"Oh there it goes," She says looking back at the pyramid.

In her line of sight is a group of cheerleaders giggling and laughing as they tried to assemble a pyramid. They're egged on by a growing crowd of boys. One of them leans across the shoulder of another precariously. Then the whole pyramid collapses and they tumble. Literally, head over heels. I scan the resulting pileup and I'm surprised to feel a shade of relief when I don't find Leah among them. Not that I care but she did promise to cool it with the alcohol. And from my personal experience starting a drunk pep rally is most definitely not cooling it.

Instead, I see her with the rest of the basketball team and their groupies. They're the loudest. Taking up the center of the field and holding court around one of the pick-up trucks. And Leah is at its epicenter, on somebody's lap. Clearly not drunk but holding a drink. She's the girl in black jeans and a crop top that just shows off her mid-section.