Liars and Losers Like Us(21)
I interject to save him while taking a split second to bask in the idea that I am Sean’s very own something. “Yeah, I do try to talk to the showered ones only. Sure are a lotta people here,” I say tiptoeing over the crowd.
“I know,” Chris says. “For every one guy I told, an extra five showed up. I’m gonna hafta start kickin’ people outta here if it gets any crazier.”
Sean tells him to let him know if he needs any help and Chris says there’s beer and soda in the kitchen if we can make our way through the masses. We squeeze through a bunch of people barraging Sean with fist bumps and high fives. The kitchen’s a bright yellow room that’d be pretty spacious if it weren’t sardine-packed with high schoolers and probably some guys from the community college.
Sean rifles through a chunky blue cooler. “Any requests?”
“Coke or a bottle of water is fine.” I do not pride myself on my alcohol tolerance. No way I’m going to drink anything that could lead to me singing show tunes on the coffee table or getting sick in front of him and his friends.
He passes me a Coke and grabs one for himself. “I guess we’re both sober tonight huh?”
“The last time I drank didn’t end well for any of the parties involved, so I’m sitting this one out.”
“Yeah, makes sense. Last time I drank, I woke up with a hangover and—”
Someone yells across the kitchen. “Yo Mills—you D.D. tonight?” It’s Todd White. Molly Chapman is leaning on him, wearing a tight pink T-shirt and equally tight jean skirt. If he moves, she’ll fall down, big red cup and all.
“Nah, man,” Sean yells back, “I’m not gonna be good for a sober cab tonight—sorry bro.”
Molly yells, “Don’t worry, I’m not drunk! I can drive him home. I can drive everyone home. Call me a bus!” She ruffles his hair.
Kallie’s definitely at work. No way would this be happening if she was here.
“Oh shit, I hope he doesn’t let her drive.” Sean laughs.
“Yeah, good call,” I say, “but by the looks of it, I think she’d give Todd a piggyback ride home, if he asked for it.”
We laugh and head outside. There are a few people around a fire pit and some empty chairs so we grab two.
“So, is this everything you dreamed it’d be?” I ask.
“Not sure yet. The night’s young.” His eyes give off that smiley vibe and his smile looks like trouble. The good kind. “What do you think? Do you think our drunk friends are more exciting than a lady, a briefcase, and her long lost son?”
Instead of telling him that these are more his than our friends, I laugh. “I had no idea that kid was supposed to be her long lost son.”
We talk for a little bit until I realize my Coke’s empty and it’s been a while since I’ve used the restroom. It feels like I’ve been holding it since last Wednesday.
“I’m going to find a ladies’ room and I’ll be right back.”
“Okay. Don’t get lost.” He raises his Coke and winks.
“Excuse me. Just gotta squeeze through here. Sorry.” My shoulder leads me sideways through the kitchen group and thankfully I don’t run into Todd again or Molly stuck on him like one of his chauncy little bow ties. I scan the crowded rooms for a bathroom. All I find is a coat closet and a bathroom already taken by two girls sharing a cigarette. “Oops,” I say, closing the door. At the end of the hall is a staircase. I check my blind spots to make sure no one’s watching, and rush upstairs where there has to be a clean, unoccupied bathroom. Voices are muffled behind one of the doors so I twist the knob of the next one.
Yes. A bathroom. Clean. Vanilla candle scent wafting through the air. No pee on the seat. Score.
As I’m washing my hands, a girl’s sobs muffle through the wall. A guy speaks in-between her sobs. I dry my hands and tilt my ear against the wall. The guy is arguing something about waiting for a better time. The rise and fall of their voices, her crying, and the familiarity of his voice has me pressing my ear even harder against the wall.
The girl asks, “Then why’d we just do that again?” She ends the question with a rising whimper.
The guy answers her by telling her to calm down. “People are gonna hear you,” he says.
She speaks again, “I love you and it’s not fair we’re hiding everything.” And then she’s muffled again under the sobs. Did she say secrets and promises or seasons and Prom dresses?
I can hear him again. “Not yet. I told you. Just let me figure it out.” Damn, who is that?
“Before Prom, right? That’s what you said,” the girl says.
“Shit, I didn’t know it was gonna be so complicated. She’s got everything all planned out already. It sucks,” he says.
“Everything in my life sucks right now. You have no idea. What about me?” Her words get louder and bitchier, and a little slurry. Her voice is familiar too but I can’t quite place it.
I step back from the wall because being nosey is only worth it if it’s something good. This is some kind of tortured breakup makeup relationship. But just as I’m double-checking my reflection, the guy’s voice says something that sounds way too much like “Kallie.” My eyebrows scrunch as I press my ear against the wall.