Fate is not something to be tampered with. It is impossible to beat his twisted game of chess. No matter how well you hide your secrets, he has a way of winding inside of your mind and figuring them out. He knows what you want, what you desire. And it is he who decides whether to give you those things. It seems as though Fate favors some over others. Fate seems to enjoy making you crazy, twisting your thoughts and making you think that something is meant to be- before snatching it from your grasp like an ice cream cone.
Tonight, fate is melting all over me. He toys with me, taunting me with sugary sweet cream and promises of a new beginning. I am terrified of Fate. I like to believe that I decide my own destiny. But not if Fate will have his way. No, he will continue to make me a pawn in his spiteful, manipulative game.
Checkmate.
“This can’t be happening.” I turn the key and try to start my car for the tenth time. “It’s not possible.”
But apparently it is. Apparently, cars can work one minute and not work the next. Fate must be terribly good with sparkplugs.
“Dang it.” I slam my hand on the steering wheel and lower my head.
I deserve this for being stupid enough to consider coming to a party. My parents would kill me if they knew I was here, rather than at the youth lock-in at church. Literally, they would lock me in my room and deprive me of food and water until I withered away in my bed. But right now, I would rather be dead than sitting down the street from Brian Phillips’ party. My eyes start to water and I curse myself for not owning waterproof mascara. A knock on the window shakes me out of my tantrum.
“Everything alright?”
I open the door and see Riley Sutton standing there holding a case of beer. He has on his leather jacket, like always. Even in the dark, I can tell he is beautiful. The street lights cast shadows on his perfect ace.
“Audrey,” he smiles. “You made it.”
“My car won’t start,” I tell him. My face flushes and I wipe my cheeks.
“Where are you going?” He asks. “You just got here, didn’t you?”
“This was a mistake,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t be here. This isn’t my scene. Nobody wants me here and I-”
“I want you here,” he says. “I asked you to come, remember?”
How could I forget? We were in woodshop putting the finishing touches on our dollhouse when he brought it up.
“What are you doing Saturday night?” he had asked.
“Nothing,” I told him.
“That’s not true.” He smiled at me. “I want you to come out. Brian Phillips is having a party and everyone is going.”
“I couldn’t.” I shook my head. “I don’t drink.”
“You don’t have to drink.”
“My parents would never let me go.”
“Don’t tell them.”
Every excuse I threw at him, he provided a solution for. Riley has the ability to get me to do anything. He got me to hold a drill, to listen to what my mother calls ‘Devil music.’ His voice is smooth and creamy, and I indulge in his every word. He wrote down the address on a piece of paper and stuck it in my notebook.
“In case you change your mind,” he had told me. Then he winked at me. That scene has played over and over in my head over the last week.
So I did it. I lied to my parents and told them I would be at the lock-in with the rest of my church youth group. I made a plan to sleep at Dakota’s house and go home in the morning. I put on jeans and a floral top that ruffles around my breasts. I left my grandma’s pearls and put in a pair of hoop earrings. And I drove to the address Riley had written on the piece of paper.
“I remember,” I tell him. “I just don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Well, I don’t think it is just coincidence that your car won’t start.” He smiles. “Sounds like fate to me.”
“I don’t know.” I close my eyes.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he says. “You come inside and stay for an hour. Just an hour. And after that, I’ll come back out here with you and take a look at your car. I am a mechanic, you know?”
“I know,” I mutter.
He holds his hand out and stares at me. In this moment I have two options. I can keep trying to start my car, and eventually have to call my parents to pick me up. That would mean months of grounding, and the end of any chance I ever had at seeing Riley. The other option is to take Riley’s hand, and go to the party. It is only an hour, I tell myself.
How much could possibly happen in an hour?
Riley walks slowly with me down the sidewalk towards Brian’s house. I breathe in and out and try to remind myself that I want this. I have always dreamt of what this would be like.
“You look great,” he tells me.
“Thanks.”
“Wait a minute.” He stops me a few yards away from the house and opens the case of beer in his hand. “Try one.”
He offers me a bottle of Yueng Leng. The dark green bottle is cold and heavy in my hand. Everything in my heart screams at me to stop. My heart rate quickens with panic. But Fate punches me in the brain and my body says otherwise.
“Here you go.” He twists the top off. “If you don’t like it, you can give it back to me. I won’t be offended. I just want you to try it.”
Suddenly I am brave. I lift the bottle to my lips and take a quick sip. The beer doesn’t taste as terrible as I had imagined it would. It is surprisingly smooth, cold. Good. I take another drink, this one longer.
“I guess you like it.” Riley laughs. “I thought you would. A good drink can take your mind off of anything.”
“Thanks.” I take another sip from the bottle and hand it back to him.
“That’s it?” He chuckles. “That’s all you’re going to drink?”
I nod.
“Audrey, you are too good for me.” He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t even be trying with you. You’re too good, too sweet. I’d kill you.”
“Too good?” I didn’t even think that was possible. What the hell is so wrong with not being an alcoholic whore? What is wrong with wanting to make good grades? When did it stop being okay to be good?
“Yeah,” he says. “You’re too good. And I’m bad. You’ve got too much going for you and I would just screw you up. I’m fucking crazy.”
“You aren’t that bad,” I tell him. “And you’re not crazy.”
“What the fuck are you doing with her?” Evelyn’s voice shatters my newfound bravery as she comes storming across the lawn.
“Evelyn, chill out.” Riley rolls his eyes. “We’re just talking.”
She ignores him and turns to me. “What the hell are you doing here, Bloody Mary? Don’t you have a book to read or something?”
“Don’t talk to her like that.” Riley steps in front of me.
Evelyn puts her hands on her hips. “What is she, your girlfriend? Riley Sutton doesn’t have those, remember?”
“Shut up, Evelyn.”
“Did you hear that, Goody-Two-Shoes?” Evelyn looks at me. “He’s just going to use you to get what he wants. That’s what men do. They use you.”
“I’m done with you.” Riley hurries off and Evelyn trails after him.
“Don’t walk away from me!” She struggles to keep up with him.
I stand there on the sidewalk with chills running down my spine. Fate had just taken a boy that made my entire body freeze and ignite in flames at the same time. Fate put him in front of me, enticed him to give me a beer, and urged me to accept it. Fate led me to believe that the most beautiful person I had ever laid eyes on could actually be interested in me. And then Fate pulled him away and pushed him into the hands of a harlot who used her body for everything she wanted. And as mad as I am at Fate right now, there is only one thought bouncing around the walls of my head.
Where can I get more beer?
Alcohol makes you brave. It makes you believe you can do anything. It allows you to put on a disguise, to be someone completely different. And for a girl, alcohol is very easy to come by. I walk cautiously to the back of the house. In the backyard, several kids stand around a keg. I don’t even know how the thing works, but after watching a few people, I think I understand.
“Whoa,” a guy says when I walk up to the keg. “Who are you?”
“Audrey,” I mutter. I stumble over my words. “Can I have a beer?”
“Sure.” He nods. His hair is dark and curls around his face. I assume that he is one of Brian’s friends, assigned to run the keg. “Usually it’s two bucks a cup. But you’re so pretty that I’ll make an exception.”
His words catch me so off guard that I cannot respond. He couldn’t have been talking to me when he said that someone was pretty. That is not a word that is ever used to describe me. But he fills up a plastic cup and hands it to me, free of charge.
“Drink up, beautiful.” He winks. “Just be careful.”
I take the cup from him and make my way across the backyard. I take long sips of the beer. It is not as smooth as what Riley gave me, but at least it was free. I venture up the steps to the deck where a few guys are playing a game. They take turns trying to throw ping pong balls into cups on the opposite end of a table. People stand around and cheer for them. The game seems stupid, but I stand and watch for several minutes.
I drink my beer faster than I thought I would. Just when I notice my cup is empty, a boy nudges against me.
“I’ve never seen you before.” He smiles. “Do you go to Five Points?”
“Yes,” I mumble.
“I’m Dillon. What’s your name?”
“Audrey.”
“Pretty name.” He looks at my cup. “Looks like you’re running a little low.” He pulls a bottle out of a book bag at his feet.
“Try some of this.” He pours a clear liquid into my cup. “It tastes like candy.”
I take his word for it and do not hesitate to take a sip. He is right- the liquor tastes like liquid strawberry candy, with a bite.
“Thanks,” I say.
He puts his arm around me and pulls me close. “So tell me about yourself, Audrey.”
I decide that him being this close could be dangerous. Taking alcohol from a guy I’ve known for five seconds could be twice as dangerous. But there are other people around us. And the liquor tastes so good. Riley was not lying when he said a good drink can make everything better. I decide to give Fate a run for his money. And a hard kick in the balls, while I’m at it.
With each refill, my head gets cloudier. Each sip is a train into vulnerability. I help Dillon finish off his strawberry rum and take a beer that his friend offers me. Dillon asks me to be his partner for the cup game, which I later learn is called beer pong. I am terrible at it, but with each drink, my aim gets a little better. When the ball lands in one of the cups, Dillon nuzzles his face against my neck.
“Good girl,” he says each time. “That’s a good girl.”
Sober Audrey would never be here. She would never allow a guy to put his hands on her, would never indulge in drinks provided by strange boys and giddy girls. She would never talk to every person she saw. But sober Audrey is the one who brought drunk Audrey to the party in the first place. So maybe I have always been a drunk. There is a reason my parents have kept me away from this stuff throughout high school. Because they despise happiness. And alcohol makes me feel happy. It changes who I am, strips away all of my worries and my fear.
It makes me feel incredibly good.
“You want to get out of here?” Dillon whispers in my ear after our sixth game of beer pong. He rubs his hand over my stomach.
Although I am drunk, I am not stupid. And I am still coherent enough to know that going home with a boy who has hands that wander like Dillon’s, is a stupid idea. But when his breath tickles the hairs on my neck, it is hard to want to say no.
Who am I, and what have I done with Audrey? I push him away softly and laugh. I cannot even remember the last time I actually laughed.
“I can’t,” I tell him. “I’m a good girl.”
He and the guys around me laugh. “Good girls don’t exist, sweetie,” Dillon tells me. “There are bad girls, and girls who are meant to be bad, but try to fight it.”
He pulls my shirt up and exposes my stomach. “Don’t fight it anymore.”
I push his hands away. “I’m a fighter. I am a good girl. I don’t drink.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” one of Dillon’s friends says.
“I don’t,” I insist. “I’m good. I want to be good.” My tongue feels like it weighs a hundred pounds as I try to speak.
“Don’t make me get rough.” Dillon wraps his arms around me and presses my body against his. He is stronger than I would have expected.
Fear fills me up until I think I could puke. It is a very sobering feeling. What have I done? What happened? I put my hands against Dillon’s chest as he kisses my forehead firmly.
“Fight!” Someone yells from inside the house.
“Dude, there’s a fight!” One of Dillon’s friends pulls on his arm. “Let’s go check it out!”
Dillon follows his friends in a drunken stupor and I let a deep sigh escape my lungs. I do not go inside, as Fate has just handed me a free move to get away from Dillon and his wandering hands. I make my way down the steps carefully with Dillon’s book bag strapped over my shoulder. I figure I deserve whatever he has left after letting him get a glimpse of my pasty stomach.
I stumble to my car, ignoring all of the screams and yells coming from inside of the house. When I get to my car, I remember that Riley was supposed to fix it. I reach into my phone and dial his number.
No answer.
Not that it really matters anyway. I am intelligent enough to know that trying to drive in my current condition would be lethal. I open the back door and climb into the backseat. In Dillon’s bag, I find several liquor bottles and a few cans of beer. I pop open a beer and lay across the seat.
As I fill up on a few more beers, my head begins to feel like a fish tank. My thoughts get lost, swimming around in the cloudy waters like little tadpoles. Dirt and leaves clog my brain until I am no longer awake enough to care about the thoughts swimming around. They gasp for air, beg to be brought back to life. But for the first time in my life, I do not think about anything. I simply slide down into the seat of my car and let myself swim. Gasp. Suffocate.
Pass out.
No comments:
Post a Comment