Without You

Chapter Five

Laurie hands me a cup of some mysterious liquid. "What's in it?" I ask, looking in at the colourless drink.

"Bottoms up," Laurie says with a smile. "Remember, tonight is all about having fun, okay? No thinking."

I nod, and down the whole cup. My head spins slightly at the strong, warm taste of the alcohol."That's strong," I comment.

"Vodka," she says, holding the bottle out to me. She pours a splash of it into my cup. "Don't drink too much too fast, okay?"

"Okay," I say, a mix of excitement, and nervousness rushing through me.

The music begins to get louder as more people enter Laurie's backyard.

"Look, there's Oscar!" Laurie squeals, shaking my shoulders. "You should go talk to him!"

I look back at her nervously. "I don't think I'm drunk enough to do that," I admit.

Laurie takes a sip of her drink. "Just go," she whines, pushing me in his direction.

I walk hesitantly over to Oscar, and his group of friends, who have already made their way over to the cup pong table. I drink the vodka from my cup, and throw it in the garbage.

"Hey," I say.

Oscar turns around, and his face lights up when he sees me. "Hey, Austin," he says, slightly slurring his words. I tense at the way he calls me Austin. The only person who ever called me that was Max. It was our thing. The words didn't feel right rolling off of Oscar's tongue.

He slings his arm over my shoulder, and pulls me next to him. "Wanna watch me beat George in cup pong?" he asks, craning his head to look at me.

"Sure."

He takes his arm off of me. "Hold my drink for me?" he asks, extending it out to me.

I take it from him, and watch as he begins to play against George. A crowd has surrounded the table, some people cheering for George, and others cheering for Oscar.

I watch as Oscar throws the ball, and it bounces off the rim of one of George's cups.

On George's turn, he manages to land two balls in, and Oscar downs the alcohol quickly.

As I watch a few more rounds, it's clear that Oscar is going to lose.

"Boo, Oscar!" someone yells, causing a chorus of people to yell it.

I watch the scene quietly, and honestly quite bored. I decided to leave for just a second, and get some more booze.

I make my way over to the table of alcohol. There's a girl standing on the opposite side of the table, wearing a floral skirt. I swear I have that same one.

Wait. "Emma?" I say.

Emma turns around. "Oh, hey," she replies, opening a bottle of beer.

"You're wearing my skirt," I comment.

"You literally never wear it anymore, so it's fine."

"Whatever," I say, picking up a raspberry-flavoured white claw.

One time in eighth grade, Max, Laurie, Pat, and I took one of Beau's white claws from the fridge. We went to the beach, and shared it together, claiming that we were 'so drunk.' That was one of my favourite days.

"Don't get too drunk, tonight," I tell her.

Emma looks at me knowingly. "Says you. You're already struggling to walk in a straight line."