Where Do We Go From Here?

“Wanna grab something to drink?” Tony asked.

I nodded my head and followed behind him as he led the way to the kitchen. Apparently, the living room was the designated beer pong event and just down the way—where there was a small loft with yet another table—was where a group of tipsy kids were playing suck-and-blow. I smiled politely to anyone who managed to make eye contact with me as Tony grabbed me a soda from an unattended cooler. Tony grabbed himself a beer which made me a little wary since he was driving.

I started nervously tugging at the leather jacket I was wearing and glanced around the room. There were people laughing, drunk conversations, and countless of hormonal teenagers grinding on each other to the—at least in my opinion—tasteless music playing through the speakers. However with all that was going on and with everyone resembling some montage of what a party scene should look like, I didn’t feel all that cheerful. Even Tony, who probably knows a lot more people here than I do, was sipping quite pensively and quietly next to me. Finishing off the last of my caffeinated beverage, I sighed.

It was then I saw Gielle and Carmen just in the distant, looking photo shoot beautiful while simultaneously taking a jab at my self-esteem. Carmen was scantily dressed in a dress that seemed to hug her ever curve while coming up mid-thigh. She paired her ensemble with thick black pumps that made her legs appear miles long. A montage of unnecessary images flooded my mind as I gazed upon Carmen’s perfectly slender figure—albeit she was graced with voluptuous curves that gave her an envious figure. The images were particularly scenarios of her and Tony rolling around in some messy bed, making me a little nauseous just from thinking about it. And although she was far from showing, I couldn’t help but imagine the baby bump that will soon fill out her nonexistent tummy. Once again my stomach was doing cartwheels.

I rolled my eyes before darting away from the kitchen. Tony was a little shocked at my sudden movement and followed me just as he always done when he notices that I’m upset. I stumbled across and unattended, half-drunk bottle of Jameson on the coffee table which was pushed aside to make room for the larger tables where the games were taking place.

“Verity, what’s—“ Tony’s question was cut off as I uncapped the bottle and tilted my head back to welcome in the burning taste of the Irish whiskey.

Two gulps down and I stopped, coughing for air since the burning sensation in my throat seemed to refuse any entry of oxygen. It took me a moment to gain my bearings as the fiery feeling subsided.

“What was that?” Tony asked incredulously. He was looking at me with wide eyes and hints of regard.

“I needed a drink.” I shrugged in a slightly strained voice. My throat still felt a little raw and hoarse.

“So you wanted to chug down Jameson?” He asked skeptically.

“Apparently.” I answered before bringing the bottle back up to my lips and taking another swig. It didn’t burn as harshly to feel the whiskey in my throat, but it did burn nonetheless.

“But you don’t drink.” Tony pointed out.

“There’s always a time to start.” I answered.

My mind didn’t feel as cluttered as before, which was the reason why I took another swig—a much larger one. The liquid now felt warm, leaving out the bite I first endured.

“What is going on?” Tony asked. “Is there something wrong?”

I smiled at him, allowing the alcohol to taint my veins, my blood, my mind. “Of course not.” I giggled. “Everything’s fine.” I added before walking towards where Callie was.

Callie was nursing a beer as I stood next to her, watching a rather entertaining round of beer pong. There was one of the kids I knew from my freshmen gym class going up against one of the guys on the basketball team. Names were hard to recall since I was nearing the end of the Jameson. What once was the burning molten lava making way to the pits of my stomach, now felt like lukewarm tea. I held brief conversations with a Kimberly and even had the pleasure of chatting with Isabelle—Mike and Vic’s cousin.

“You’re here?” I heard someone sneer from behind me.

The Jameson flooding my veins tucked away my usual unpleasant behavior. At the moment, I was charming and a little more forthcoming than usual.

“So it appears.” I answered while turning around, only to be face to face with Carmen, who apparently was holding onto a red solo cup which wouldn’t allow me to distinguish what kind of beverage she was drinking. However from the potent smell it was emitting, I knew that it was more than just coke.

“What is a loser like you doing here?” She asked; her voice snipping at me like a rabid dog foaming at the mouth.

“Surprisingly enough, I was invited by my boyfriend.” I answered truthfully with hints of mockery in my voice. Narrowing my eyes at her, I asked “Should you really be drinking that?”

Carmen’s eyes grew wide. I bet she couldn’t possibly have known that I would be acquainted with her little secret. “That’s none of your business.” She snapped.

I smiled smugly before saying “You should take care of yourself.” And with that I turned back to the unfinished conversation I was having with Isabelle and Callie.

Carmen huffed out a breath of frustrated air before placing her drink down—rather dramatically—then stormed out of the room and into some other room. If I had been sober then I presume that I would’ve behaved immensely differently. I think I might have acted with more class rather than what I displayed, which was teenage crass. I guess a small part of me felt sympathetic towards Carmen and her sticky situation. However, I was still upset with her for many reasons—one of those reasons was that she slept with Tony.

The entire night though seemed to pass by rather quickly. I joined in for two rounds of beer pong, in which I was paired with Callie for the first round and for the second round I was paired with Tony. Some time throughout the night, Callie and Mike made up and were inseparable while seeming permanently attached to their lips. I tossed back a few more shots, but seemed to only gravitate towards Pepsi drinks and Jameson. Before I knew it we were counting down the last ten seconds of the year. I was standing next to Tony—well, more like leaning on him since my legs seemed to feel a little wobbly. With Tony as my support, I turned my head up at him and drunkenly said “I love you.”

10…

9…

8…

7…

Tony looked back down at me and smiled.

6…

5…

4…

3…

“I love you too.” He replied.

2…

1…

“Happy New Year!” Everyone cheered.

My new year was sealed with two plump lips, sealing over mines.

Notes

Bleh! "/

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