The Color of Darkness COMPLETE NOVEL

Adoxography

"Dude, my brother will be drunk before you even get there, don't worry!" Rick told us to show up at seven o'clock before taking off toward his house. Nova went back to her house to get ready, so I took a shower, threw some overnight items in a drawstring backpack, and puzzled out what to wear. Polo Shirt? Too preppy. T-shirt? Too casual. In the end, I settled on a black button down (un-tucked, of course) that wasn't too wrinkled. My dad wasn't home yet, so I splashed on a dab of his cologne and ran a comb through my hair. Rick lived about a mile away, so I left to gather Nova at 6:30, wondering what a real high school party would be like.

"Wow, look at you!" Nova smiled as she opened the door. She looked pretty great herself with a low-cut navy blouse and her newest-looking pair of jeans (only one hole this time). My heart skipped a beat as she reached out and mussed up my hair. "It looks better this way," she said. "Ready to go?" We set off for Rick's house at an easy pace, both agreeing that it would pretty lame to show up right on time. Before we even turned onto his block we could hear the bass-heavy tones of Daft Punk reverberating through the evening air. Already, almost a dozen cars were parked outside, crowding the narrow driveway. Rick's parents had a generous house that sat on a four-acre plot right outside town. By the height of the festivities, the house was sure to be lawn-deep in cars. Rick himself met us at the door and, checking to make sure his brother wasn't around, ushered us inside.

It was like a whole different world on the other side of Rick's front door; it was as if the lands of "Party" and "No Party" were separated by a veil of rebellion. I was immediately floored by the sheer amount of alcohol that seemed to stand on every flat surface: Jack Daniel's, Malibu, Skyy, Svedka, and about two dozen others I had never heard of. The music was blasting so loud that I felt like my eardrums would burst. Rick led us down to the basement where an entire keg had been clamped to a dresser, surrounded by Solo cups on every side. Being the gracious host that he was, Rick poured us each a cup and watched our faces while we tried it.

I've never tried beer before. I've never really had the desire to try beer; after that first sip, I wasn't sure If I ever wanted to taste beer again. It was blissfully cold, yes, but it was also frothy and sour and left such an earthy taste in my mouth that made me want to scrape my tongue out and burn it. Nova drank, though, so I drank. We both got down half a cup before she set hers aside, looked Rick in the eye, and told him it was the worst beer she had ever tasted. Rick laughed and shrugged, calling it "party beer," before his brother yelled his name down the stairs and he disappeared to see what Michael wanted.

"Some party," Nova observed, miraculously downing another significant sip of her beer before frowning and setting her cup aside with a grimace. When I asked her why she kept drinking if it was terrible, she gave me a sweet smile. "Why, Puck, you have to live a little! What's the point of going to a party with alcohol if you're going to stay sober?" I was a little taken aback by this but I saw her point; we were already at a party we weren't supposed to be at, why not have a little fun? This policy carried me through the rest of my beer and I was feeling pretty good by the time Rick reappeared.

"Having fun yet?" he asked with a grin. Nova nodded with a smile and I gave him a thumbs up. Already the house was starting to get a little crowded as more and more people trickled in. Some of the party spilled out into the back yard where it became clear that someone had decided that smoking pot would be a good idea, but it was relatively low-key for the most part. Nova even forced me to dance a little—if that's what you would call my awkward, choppy movements—but she laughed it off and told me I was great. We both finished another cup of beer with Rick, who also had a couple shots, before the amount of people in the basement reached claustrophobia level.

"Let's get out of here!" Nova yelled over the noise of the music and the alcohol-saturated teenagers. "Let's go upstairs!" She grabbed my elbow in one hand and snatched a small bottle of something golden-yellow off of a table and dragged me up to the main floor, then up to the second level. The first door we tried was the door to Rick's room, the first one to the right of the stairs. It definitely wasn't empty, though; a blonde girl I recognized as Michael's girlfriend and the douchebag captain of the varsity football squad (he called himself "Ace" Broadmoor, for crying out loud) were engaged in frantic sexual activity—on top of Rick's bed. Nova shut the door wordlessly, rolling her eyes and looking unphased, but I felt myself flush a little.