Don't Look Down

eleven: don't fuck up royally

She smiles at my encouragement. "Each contestant takes turns saying something they've never done and if other contestants have done it, they have to take a drink. It's as simple as that."

"Is this what we're drinking?" I grab the clear fifth of alcohol from the center of my coffee table.

"Yep," Marsha replies. "You had a measly shot of rum left under your sink. Thank goodness I always come prepared."

Seth snatches it from my hand to inspect the label, flinging his legs over the side of the couch in the process so he's seated properly. "Whipped Cream Vodka. Superb."

I seize it back. "It's free, Seth."

He tosses on a fake smile. "And sounds delicious."

"You're welcome by the way," Marsha says, sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table. "I swiped it from the bar last night."

Seth's jaw drops. "You have a thief as your best friend and yet I'm still the one getting the judgemental looks?"

I wink at him just as Marsha snaps her fingers, demanding our utmost attention. "Alright, let's get this show on the road. Who wants to start?"

With a best friend ready to tag team my delinquent roomie, I'm feeling confident. I ready my hand to accept first dibs, but Seth beats me to the punch.

"Since I'm about to get steam rolled, I think it's only fair I get to take first shot."

Marsha nods. "Go for it."

As the rounds commence, we each take turns. Seth rattles off a string of never have I evers straight from my most embarrassing moments collection, and I know Marsha has been running her mouth like an Olympic sprinter this afternoon. Maybe the keeper of my secrets wasn't the best choice of babysitter.

I handle the situation gracefully, taking repeated swigs from the bottle, allowing the alcohol to soothe my humiliation.

However, while Seth is successfully achieving his goal of dousing me in nostalgic mortification, Marsha and I have only uncovered he's twenty-five (exactly one year older than myself), has a driver's license, and has never lived anywhere other than New York. We're failing. Miserably.

Seth's past is an elusive little shit.

It's time to get serious and in doing so I need to take a different approach. When it's my turn once again, I say, "Never have I ever been in love." I'm revealing an intimate detail about myself, but at this point, I'm unsure what other tactics to take. At least this way I'll uncover something about Seth I don't already know.

Marsha takes a sip of Vodka, which I already knew would happen since she's been in love once. But as she hands the bottle over to Seth, he shakes his head. He's never been in love. It shouldn't come as a shock since his lack of commitment is the reason he's my roommate. But I consider myself a rare breed. Love comes often and to many, especially those our age.

My brows crinkle because now I'm curious and slightly fascinated. "Really?"

He shrugs. "It's pointless."

That explains why love has eluded Seth. You have to be open to it in order to find it. And he's sealed up like a vault.

Marsha throws her fist into the air. "Hear-hear."

I ignore her because I'm interested now. His vague and cliché' answer can't be all there is to this. Either he's been hurt or there's something else he's failing to say.

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?" I may have never experienced it myself, but it doesn't mean I've written it off for good.

He tilts his head to the side, causing a few midnight locks to fall over his forehead. "Look, seven-billion people exist in this world and the concept that you find one and settle down with them is absurd. Everyone can work for each other-as long as the attraction is there. So why make the choice to stop having the fun in order to slow your adventure down and stand still with someone?"