I Think I Love You | Randy

track 03. december 1963 (oh what a night) - franki valli & the four seasons

I felt the rush like a rolling bolt of thunder, spinning my head around and taking my body under.

***

Before this night, I thought I'd been to parties before. I thought I understood how they worked. People danced, got drunk, hooked up, threw up, and the next morning everyone would relive the details with exaggerated flair, spinning the best memories into legends. 

But this party really wasn't like that. For one, there was this unsettling yet strangely liberating feeling of anonymity. During college parties, I'd usually know about eighty percent of the people around me, but here the only familiar face was Rye's. Everyone seemed to be in their own worlds, finding their own pleasure and not giving a fuck about what anyone else was doing. There were no clustered groups gossiping, no crowds cheering or booing around what other people did, no loud popular crowd dominating. There were just bodies moving together in a big amalgamated mass, the individual people separate but connected, like tentacles branching off from some greater organism.

We were dancing- or rather, we started out dancing, but as we got drunker it was more accurately just moving to the music. Bodies pressed up close and swaying with some semblance of rhythm. I didn't even know who I was up against at this point, it could have been Rye or Brooklyn or some complete stranger. All I knew was that he had brown hair, and I was past the point of caring about details.

I only became aware that it was in fact Rye, when Brooklyn slithered up next to us out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around us both to pull us into a huddle so he could speak.

"I have something for us," he said, presenting his palm face up it the middle of us. I looked down at his hand, three innocuous looking white squares resting in his palm. I made eye contact with Rye and we grinned at each other. This night was about to get a whole lot better.

 "Andy?" Brooklyn turned to me, sticking his tongue out and resting one of the squares on it, the offering clear by the cheeky glint in his eyes.

I smiled. "Sure, fuck it," I said, pulling him towards me by the neck, my mouth connecting with his. I swiped my tongue against his, picking up the tab, our lips moving together for a few moments- just enough to taste the sugary alcoholic taste of him- before I pulled away to let the drug dissolve in my mouth. I realised I hadn't even questioned what it was I was taking, and the thought of that made me a little giddy for a second, but I was too drunk for my anxiety to make any real moves at this point.

"Rye?" Brooklyn offerred, trying his luck by sticking his tongue out towards Rye the same way he had for me. I watched Rye's eyes flick down to Brooklyn's awaiting tongue before he leaned forward. I wondered if he was actually going to do it, and I found myself weirdly fascinated by the idea of watching them if he did.

But just before their lips met, Rye smirked, raising his hand instead to steal the tab off Brook's tongue with the tip of his finger. I found myself relieved and disappointed at the same time, not really able to explain either emotion.

Brooklyn then took the third and final tab for himself, and we went back to our swaying as we waited for them to disintegrate in our mouths. I moved my hand around a bit, testing the air to see if it felt any different. I was definitely fucked up, but the alcohol had already gotten me to that point, and I couldn't say I was experiencing anything beyond what I had been before.

"MD usually takes about half an hour to kick in," Brooklyn explained, seeing what I was doing.

"I don't feel anything," I complained, "just drunk."

"Just feel the music. Let it happen."

"Okay," I replied, smiling as Brooklyn wrapped both of his arms around my neck, syncing up his hips to move in time with mine.