Overheard at a Party

4/7/14

            My heels pressed into the grass as the tequila flowed freely through my body. I waited patiently for the feeling to reach my head; ready for my weekly dose of invincibility. I felt my weight shift forward as Adam hoisted me up onto his back, and we started walking.

            “You don’t have to carry me,” I said. My head tingled.

            “I’m going to carry you. You need to have more fun,” Adam said.

            “Another party? I’m already drunk, do you really think this is a good idea?”

            “Absolutely.” He shifted me higher and he picked up his pace. I shrieked before I even knew I was opening my mouth. Burying my face in his neck, I pictured myself as a koala bear, clinging to its mother, swinging through the trees.

            “I’m drunk,” I announced to myself.

            “And about to get drunker,” Adam slowed down to a walk. Lifting my head, I saw a house.

            “Have I been here before?” I asked.

            “A few times.” Adam walked up the porch steps and into the open door. Despite my blurred vision, I could make out people in clumps around the living room. People shouted greetings to Adam, some asked who the girl on his back was, and one person addressed me as “Your Majesty,” which filled my ego with all the hot air I needed to survive the night.

            Adam put me down in the kitchen. My legs wobbled under the weight of my own body, and I grabbed a stranger’s shoulder to steady myself.

            “Sorry.” I didn’t wait for a response. I scanned the room for Adam. I spotted him near the stove, handing a red cup to Eric, a mutual friend. Crossing the room, I smiled at the sight of his familiar face, and playfully hit Adam to get his attention.

            “I told you, you’re babysitting me tonight.” I said. “Don’t leave me. I don’t know anyone.”

            “You know Eric,” Adam gestured toward him. “I have some things I have to do.” With that, Adam saluted us and took off toward the living room.

            “And by ‘I have to do some things,’” I said, “He means he has to do some sorority girls.” Eric smiled.

            “That’s the life he leads.” He sipped out of his red cup. “C’mon,” he took my hand, “You’re wasted so you’ve got to dance.” Eric pulled to the outskirts of the dance floor. A country twang burst forth from the house speakers. Eric spun me around I couldn’t stop laughing. Our dance felt so out of place in a room full of undergrads grinding on one another. Equally drunk, Eric doubled over laughing at a couple who had fallen over due to their rigorous dancing. I watched him for a moment. Was he always this good-looking? He looked like a-

               “DIPSHIT! What a fucking little dipshit.” A brunette girl was flung her hands in the air.

               “She really is,” said her blonde friend. “She has some balls in, like, the worst way.”

               “I can’t even-” The brunette looked down at her phone. “Why would she do that?”

            “Because she has social issues, like, major social problems.” The blonde put a wavering hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” The brunette took a long pause.

               “It’s fine, it’s whatever.”

            “Are you okay?” A voice floated close to my ear. A hand grasped my fingers; the sensation sent a shock down my spine. I yelped.

            “You were spacing out, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to puke. How much have you had?” Eric said.

               “No, I’m sorry, I’m fine. I haven’t had too much. Not enough to throw up.”

            “We may have to change that.” He poured vodka into a shot glass and handed it to me. For a moment, I contemplated whether another shot would be a good idea.

            “Do it.” I heard a boy’s voice cut through the air around me. “Just do it. Just ask her.”

            “But she’s at least three times hotter than me.”

            “Man, she wants to go with you, believe me.”

            “What if she isn’t free that weekend?”

            “You’re over-thinking this, bro. Ask her to formal. She’s right fucking there. Just go. You’re drunk, she’s drunk: it’ll work out in your favor.”

            “Bro, I like her.”

            “She’s looking at you, GO!”

            “Megan?” Eric’s voice hit me hard. I stood with the shot glass to my lips, my head tiled backward and the glass forward.

              “No, don’t even worry, the class is so easy, I had that professor for intro. I suck at tests and I got As on all of hers, you’ll be fine.”

              “I don’t even know what fraternity this is-”

               “Is this going to be a one night thing? Or are we-”

               “…actually, going to the bathroom sounds like a good plan-”

               “…because I need to be EVEN DRUNKER, that’s why!”

               “Megan, goddammit, don’t pass out on me.”

            I blinked. I was standing in the middle of the room. Conversations pressed onward. Adam was making out with a girl in the corner. A boy from my Abnormal Psych class draped his exhausted body over an armchair. Three girls I had met freshman year shielded themselves from an overly-aggressive senior in the line for the bathroom. I was still standing in the middle of the room, shot glass in hand, waiting for Eric to spin me again.