I watched my friends roister around the cabin. Carola sat on Davey's lap and Lee and Russell engaged in a shot competition. A couple other old high school graduates played beer pong, some had disappeared to the bedrooms, and others danced to overplayed music. I glanced to my left to see Rosalie making out with her drug dealer. Their bodies were pressed tightly together.
Despite the odor of the room, it was somewhat nice. I was happy to see the people buzzing and I was pleased to be shielded from the frigid Colorado air.
"Haven't seen you in a while," Lance approached me from the right, crossing his arms and propping his shoulder against the log wall behind us.
I studied him casually. In high school, Lance rarely ever spoke to me, but when he did, it was usually a quick exchange of words for my physics homework.
"College does that to people," I shrugged, pressing my back against the wall. "Thanks for inviting us." I nodded my head at my old friends.
"No problem. I've missed seeing everyone. No one from Glassholt seems to come back, even on the holidays." Lance turned away.
"Did you invite me because you need answers to more AP Physics problems?" I pursed my lips.
My question took him off guard. He laughed a bit and tilted his head. "You always gave me the wrong answers."
"You always asked for answers. You never asked for the right ones."
"You bitch." He smiled.
Lance's smile was nice. His face was nice, quite frankly. Lance's sharp jaw and white teeth and light eyes and dark skin and smell... His smell was quite nice. He's how a boy should smell.
He smiled some more, "Anyways, I was wondering if you brought any weed."
"Check Russell." I responded flatly.
He shot me a thumb, gun type signal with both hands and walked away.
"So, you only talked to me for some damn weed. I love it," I groaned under my breath.
"Love what?" Rosalie stumbled over to me with frizzy hair and smeared lipstick.
"I just love to party is all," I deadpanned.
"Come drink with Rosie, come on doll," Rosalie tugged at my sleeves like a small child. "Rosie will show you a good time. Where is Russell?" She mumbled.
I studied the simple interior of Lance's cabin as Rosalie pulled me along. Leather furniture, a green, stained rug, that sprawled from the stone fireplace to the beer pong table, and log walls all made up the house.
I took three shots of vodka, one shot of tequila, and two shots of rum. Three shots were dedicated to my embarrassing moment with Lance, I had really thought he was coming on to me, two shots were because everyone was coupling off but me, and another shot was because Rosalie basically forced it through my closed teeth. I disliked drinking. I disliked smoking too. I disliked parties, but I liked people, and I liked fun.
Russell sat criss cross in a large, leather recliner. He lit his red, glass pipe quickly and exhaled into a pillow
"Dude, you can't smoke in here!" Lance barreled in from a side door with dry eyes.
Russell sat fumbling with his pipe. "Relax man, you can take a hit too!"
"Hey Russ, come on, leave Lance alone." I whined.
"Get the fuck out, Russell," Lance shouted.
Russell sat up and jumped over to Lance. "Bro, I offered you a hit." Russell shoved his pipe into his pocket and brought his fist back. He was too drunk to stand upright and he wobbled around before making contact with a lamp.
