The Art of Faking Straight

Chapter Sixteen

         The worst thing about parties is that it seems like behind every door, every turn, and every hallway, there's two people making out so passionately that you're sure if you watch for more than five seconds you'll probably get pregnant yourself. Yet, you usually watch anyway because typically that means you're not getting much action yourself. Which technically, I guess that's true for me as well. If it's not sex, then you can always guarantee you'll smell puke or at least puke yourself. 

         Puke or sex.

         Sex or puke.

         Either way, an odor of some sort.

         Connor's not here. Jack's off talking with people and showing off Callie to anyone who has yet to hear about her. I'm walking around aimlessly attempting to make my way through groups of yelling teenagers, but never sure of where I will end up or if I want to ever get there. I know Connor said he'd be late – and bring someone with him – but really, how late is late?

         I'm mingling with other guests, but I'm not really into it. I've yet to drink anything, wanting to stay sober. Yet, it's getting boring quick. I'd much rather be off somewhere messing around with Connor, but he's taking forever.

         The football players are all mostly drunk already and dancing with their girls to the awful music Jack decided to play on the stereo. For some reason he picked some over-played pop songs that everyone but me seems to like. I find myself singing Bowling For Soup songs in my head, half wishing I had the guts to bring my own C.D. 

         It's two hours into to the party when I finally give in to drinking more than just a few sips of beer.

         “Want something to drink?”

       “Sure,” I say, then suddenly the guy is handing me a shot glass and I'm tipping my head back and finally letting myself lose a tiny bit of control.

         One shot.

         Two shots.

         Three shots.

         Four shots.

         Five shots of vodka.

         I down them all as if I've been an ongoing alcoholic for years. I've been to my fair share of parties, but I'm usually not a very heavy drinker because I honestly cannot handle my alcohol at all. I usually end up throwing up after a few girly drinks and I think that's actually what happened last time I went to a party with Jack. Throwing up in your car is okay, I mean sure you'll have to clean it and it's an awful odor to withstand through, but throwing up in someone else's brand new Mustang is definitely worse. Needless to say, I haven't drank since for the sake of not only my car, but everyone around me that has a car as well. See what I mean, wherever there's drinking, you can count on puke or sex. Usually I just get puke though, having wild sex at parties isn't something I'd recommend. Girls turn into nameless bodies, unknown faces, and just fixes for the time being.

         “Slow your roll there buddy,” Jack says smiling with the biggest grin on his face I've ever seen. “You're gonna get hammered before midnight if you keep at it like that.”

         “It's not even midnight yet?” I ask annoyed. I just want this to be over, Connor's not coming, Chelsea showed up and decided to talk to me earlier. Tonight is just turning out as awful as the rest of my day has been.

         Jack shakes his head as if to say no it's not midnight yet, which makes me that much more annoyed. Now even time is against me.
      
         Groaning and eager to complain I begin to chew him out for even asking me to come to this stupid party. “I don't feel like being here. Time seems to have slowed, and you don't even need me here really, you have it all under control. Oh and then you even invited Chelsea after I told you not to when we were at the game. What part of I don't want to screw the girl don't you get?” 

         “Oh y'know,” he starts to say, but then I cut him off because I already know how he plans on finishing his sentence.

         “And don't say the screw the girl part,” I snap. Doesn't he realize I'm not in the mood to play his childish games?