“You’re going to drink?”Collin asks in surprise.I almost never drink.And when I do, it’s usually one.I don’t like feeling buzzed.Definitely never been drunk.
I shrug in reply.
How many is that?”Collin asks me, eyeing the bottle in my hand.The party swirls around us, loud and chaotic.
I’ve lost track.
Jonathan is here.And I startedfeelingagain.Instead oftalkingto him, I picked up a bottle of some fruity drink.Besides, talking isn’t our thing, and whatever this is tastes good.So, I got another.And I think one, maybe two more.I can’t remember.But at least I’m notfeelinganything right now.
Feelings are so stupid.
“Drinking to avoid emotions is such a cliché ’90s movie,” Collin comments like he’s disappointed in me.
“Molly would be proud of me,” I tell him, welcoming this numbing buzz.
“She’s from the ’80s.Get your movies straight.Have I taught you nothing?”
“Sorry,” I say, taking another swig.“What should we do?”I look around at the groups, not really wanting to engage with anyone other than Collin.Not even the card game at the kitchen table or beer pong in the dining room.
“They’re about to start the wrestling matches downstairs,” he says, wagging his eyebrows.“Maybe you should sign up.Better way to work through your drama than a bottle.”
“Okay.”Parties are pretty dumb, but whatever.I’m here.And I’ve always had a hard time saying no to Collin’s absurd ideas sober, so this is an easy yes.
“Are you serious?”
“Sure.Might as well.It’s aparty, right?”
Collin laughs.“This is going to be epic.”
The first to enter the pool, and our only girls brave enough—”
“Or crazy enough,” someone hollers, and everyone laughs.
“What the hell am I wearing?”I ask Collin from behind the shower curtain, where he hands me clothes to change into for the match.
“His sister is thirteen.It’s the only thing available other than the bikini he originally offered.”
“My boobs are now nonexistent,” I say pulling at the Lycra sports bra suffocating me and squishing the very little I have.This is getting dumber by the second.“And please tell me these bike shorts are not Darren’s.”
“They’re his dad’s.”
“Gross!”I slide them on, and they sag around my hips.
“Dude, you’re going to be rolling around in Jell-O.Who cares?”
I roll the top of the shorts to make them snug.His dad isn’t a very big man, thankfully.
I’m braiding my hair when a fist pounds on the door.Cheers erupt from the basement.
I slide the curtain back in a dramatic reveal and flex my muscles.“Let’s do something stupid.”
“You’re mastering it.”Collin holds out a fist for me to tap.Then hands me a shot glass.“You’ll need this.”
I know I’m beyond any buzz I’ve ever had before, probably drunk.But if I’m leaving this bathroom, looking like a twelve-year-old tomboy, I’ll take it.My courage needs courage right now.
As soon as I exit the bathroom, I want to turn around and go back in.Not because of the hollers, cheers and stupid, “Take it off!”comments.It’s because the girl on the other side of the pool is Livvy.And she’s wearing a cute turquoise sports bra that shows off her cleavage and matching booty shorts.
“This isn’t a pageant,” Collin counters when I groan.“It’s wrestling.So, put your mean face on and take her down.”
