bamboo doesn't grow in dark spaces. [80K Words / Complete]

chapter twenty-nine. 🖤

It was after midnight, and at the end of an unpaved cul-de-sac in Thurmont, Maryland, a house thrummed with a party. Music blared through the speakers, so loud the bass crackled with static. The living room was dark and stuffy, the air thick with body heat. Case hadn't kept track of how many standard drinks he'd had throughout the night. He let the freshman girl pour more and more down his throat, even when he knew he'd hit his limit. She was still on his lap, only now the sudden sense of vertigo and need to vomit gave him the self-assurance to tell her to get off of him. If only he'd said so two hours ago. If only he'd known a little confidence to say no, to not be a constant people pleaser, would have saved him a future of pain.

The girl let him stand, and it all hit him. He's wasted. Oh, god, he is so fucking wasted. He could barely stand, his sense of balance gone like one of those spinning top toys he had as a kid. He swayed, almost stumble-falling into the people sitting opposite him, and he had to squeeze his eyes tight to save a shred of his senses. Hands were on him, a bunch of someones keeping him upright, asking if he's alright.

Case inhaled, conjuring a moment of clarity. "I need some air," he managed, and he was off, stumbling out of the house and into the cool, calm quiet of night. It was dark, and there were no back patio lights, but he could make out the large silhouette of a car parked in the gravel driveway. He staggered forward, not realizing the freshman girl had followed him until her hand was on the small of his back and she was guiding him further from the house and deeper into the shadows.

He let her touch him, choosing to believe she was only looking out for him. Only here to make sure he didn't pass out or get lost. He let her hold him up, let her guide him to the dark space between the car and the garden hedge. He let his drunk, barely responsive body slump against the hood of the car. He let the freshman girl press against him, let her pin him to the car with her tiny body and her sour raspberry kisses. Her hands started to tug at his belt buckle, and he knew he had to stop letting this happen.

"I have a girlfriend."

She chuckled through her teeth. "That hasn't stopped you all night."

He tried to walk away. She tried to hold him back. Somehow, he ended up on the ground, landing with a thump that echoed in his spinning top head. The freshman girl was on him, straddling him. Not that he had the energy or the coordination to hold her back or push her away. She kept kissing him, and it felt like his mouth was stuffed with cotton as he kept trying to say:

Stop. Don't. I'm too drunk.

She got his jeans undone, shimmied them down his thigh, gravel crunching into his skin.

"I'm too drunk for this." He was soft, but she used her hand and then her mouth and then his body was responding. I'm drunk.

"I bet I'm tighter than her, aren't I?"

She started moving, bouncing, updownupdownupdown, making his head spin worse and he couldn't keep his eyes open and he wanted to be sick and he didn't understand why she wasn't listening to him and then he slipped away into darkness.

He woke up again around dawn, safely tucked into Miles's bed but feeling like he was caught in a whirlpool. He groaned, wanting to vomit.

Someone helped him to his feet. Someone . . . he was double-visioned and disorientated, but he knew it was Miles, carrying his lump-weight and guiding him to the ensuite attached to the bedroom. Miles set him in front of the toilet, hanging his face down in the bowl. His breathing came out hard and deep, drawn out as his body braced itself to be sick.

Miles rubbed his back, telling him "It's alright, you're alright. It's gonna be okay."

After a few minutes, Case slumped against the bathtub. His mouth tasted like raspberry and bile. A headache throbbed behind his temples, but he was starting to think clearer. He saw a flash of sneakers, the white toe-cap streaked with mud, on the gravel in front of him. A flash of himself sitting in the back of Jay's car. A lot of hazy shapes and shadows.