by Lauren Saft
“Tequila?” he asked.
“Tequila!” I handed him the bottle, from which he took a giant swig. “No twins?”
“No twins tonight,” he said. “Just me and you.”
Sam and his friend Austin, who I’d met a million times but who never remembered me, showed up shortly thereafter. Mollie immediately started yelling at him about something, but I could no longer hear.
I played a game with myself: every time either Drew or Veronica or the combination of Drew and Veronica was in my eye line, I took a shot. I seemed to be winning. Josh loitered around, not saying much. A few people he invited showed up, too, but I didn’t particularly care who they were or bother to introduce myself.
“ ’Sup?” Sam said to me as I stood by the overturned camp trunk that was serving as our evening’s bar, trying, unsuccessfully, to put some ice into my Solo cup.
“ ’Sup?” I replied. Curious as to why all of a sudden, after all these years, Sam deemed me worthy of speaking to directly.
“Sweet house,” he said.
“Sweet fleece,” I said back.
He chuckled and said, “So let’s spice this fucking party up, Holbrook. Let’s play some games or something.”
I was intrigued. “What do you suggest we play?”
“How about Truth or Dare?” he said.
“If you can rally the troops, I’m diggity down like Chinatown.”
“You’re fuckin’ hammered is what you are.”
“Fuck yes, I am.”
“Ya know, you were always my favorite,” he replied smugly.
The entire party formed a circle, terrified and eager for whatever exciting disaster this game would surely and always did inevitably bring.
Mollie sat next to Sam, her face white as a polar bear’s ass. Fernando sat next to me, his hand on my leg, which was a bold but welcome gesture. I wondered what his agenda was, what he wanted from me, why he came without Ned and Pete, and what he thought was going to happen. Did he think I’d put out tonight? That had to be the reason he was so all over me, he figured it was New Year’s and I was drunk and this was his shot to get laid. Fuck it, maybe I would put out. Maybe I wanted to. Would having sex with him be the end of our fun make-outs, though? There was some sort of electric charge in the room. In myself. I felt capable of damage.
Josh took me aside. “I’m going upstairs to check on Mom’s party so she won’t come down.”
“You wuss, she’s probably hammered. Play the game,” I said.
“I really don’t think I want to see this. I’ve played this game before, and you’re my sister. Shit’s about to get weird.”
I snorted and laughed a little.
“Pussy. But good call.” And he bounced up the stairs with one of his little friends. Fine, good. I didn’t want to see him make out with Mollie anyway. “Who’s gonna start?” I asked.
“Why don’t you start?” said Sam. “It’s your party after all.”
“Fine!” I screamed back at him, having lost the ability to control the volume of my voice.
I scanned the circle. Mollie bit her thumbnail and looked too scared to mess with. I couldn’t deal with Drew or Veronica yet, and clearly, I wasn’t going to subject Fernando to the first one.…
“Sam, you want to play so bad. It’s your turn. Truth or dare, motherfucker?” I said, or more likely screamed.
“Dare.” He smiled at me, his blue eyes glowing with mischief.
“Show us your cock.”
“Hey!” screamed Mollie. “What the fuck? No!”
“Babe,” he said. “It’s a game. This is how the game is played. Truth or Dare is a get-out-of-relationship-free-card game.”
“Wait, wait,” I said. “I don’t really want to see your dick. I was just kidding. Molls, I’ll do something else.”
She looked at me and looked at him. Then looked at me and looked at him again, and said, “No, fuck it. Do it. Show them. I don’t fucking care. Show everyone your big fucking dick. You want a get-out-of-relationship-free-card game? Fine by me!”
So he stood up, undid his pants, and showed everyone his penis. Mollie always talked about how big his dick was: it didn’t look that big to me. But then again, what did I know?
“Happy now?” he said.
“Okay, babe. Your turn.” He looked over at Mollie and smiled.
“What?” she said.
“Truth or dare, woman?”
“Dare.”
He looked around the circle, at me, Drew, the paralyzed and panicked sophomores, then over to Austin, who per usual had yet to speak to me or thank me for inviting him into my home and providing him with free alcohol and all this grade-A entertainment.
“I dare you to make out with Veronica for thirty seconds.”
“No fucking way! Ew!” she said.
“Wait, I’m not done… and for bonus points, I dare you to do it with your shirts off. You can leave your bras on.”
“Fuck you!” she screamed. “You can’t do that because it involves Veronica and it’s not her turn!”
“Collins,” Sam said, “will you participate?”
She looked at Drew and then at me and then at everyone, confused, but clearly excited, as Veronica lived to be the object of perverse gawking. Drew gave her a shoulder shrug and said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
She looked at Mollie, who gritted her teeth and exposed the whites of her eyeballs, like she was about to bark or pounce.
“I’ll do it if Mollie will.”
“Babe,” Sam taunted. “Come oooooon… it’s just a game. You told me you’d make out with Angelina Jolie. Veronica is totally just as hot as Angelina Jolie. It’ll be so hot, please?”
The boys started chanting: “Do it! Do it! Do it!”
And Sam said, “Please, babe? For me? It’ll be so hot.…”
“Fine!” she said. “You fucking perverts.”
They both got on their knees and crawled to the center of the circle.
“Shirts off!” Sam screamed.
“Thank god, I wore my fancy New Year’s bra today!” Veronica said to the crowd behind her as she ripped her shirt over her head in one graceful movement. Mollie took her time and used both hands to unbutton her pink top.
“I hope you all enjoy this,” she said. “V, I hope you brushed.”
And they leaned in and went for it as Sam and all the other boys counted to thirty. I couldn’t watch. It was like watching your parents make out or something. Except it was two girls, little lips, little tongues, both of them just standing on their knees, skinny arms straight at their sides, both of them clearly trying not to make any more contact with the other than necessary. I was oddly repulsed and jealous simultaneously.
At about twelve, Mollie broke from the lip-lock.
“Okay, enough!” she said.
A chorus of “awwwws” echoed in a wave around the circle.
“Sam,” said Marc Seidman, “you’re the fucking man.”
And they fist-bumped each other.
“My turn,” Mollie said, her eyes darting around the circle.
“Alex,” she said. She blurred in and out of focus. “Truth or mothafuckin’ dare, bitch?”
She was practically foaming at the mouth. Mollie knew way too many of my embarrassing truths, so I went with dare.
“I dare you to kiss Drew. With tongue. For ten seconds.”
The words pierced my gut, letting out everything that was holding me up. I felt hollow, deflated, and shaky, at risk of being pushed or dropped and shattering. What did she think she was doing?
“You’re not fucking serious!” I said.
“Oh, I am. Do it.” She smiled and nodded, her wise eyes pleading with me to trust her, promising me she was doing this for my own good, that she had a plan.
The crowd chanted again: “Do it! Do it! Do it!”
I looked at Drew. He smiled, bowed his head toward his lap, and shook it. He looked up, still with a big smile, which I hoped meant that he wasn’t c
ompletely disgusted by the suggestion.
“I don’t know if I like this!” Veronica squealed, putting her shirt back on.
“You just kissed me topless!” Mollie screamed at her. “You don’t get a veto. Drew. Alex. Kiss! Now!”
I looked at Fernando, who looked extremely uncomfortable.
“I’m so sorry!” I said. “I don’t have to do this.”
Fernando ran his fingers over his dark hair.
“It’s a game. Whatever.”
I looked back at Drew, who stood on his knees, grinning goofily, with his arms open.
“Come on,” he said. “It won’t be that bad. Just pretend I’m Fernando.”
I hid my face in my hands, then crawled to him.
“On three,” said Mollie. “One. Two. Three!”
And he went in. Kissing him was exactly like I thought it would be. Sweet. Safe. Warm. Almost like it was something I’d done a million times before. He tasted like he smelled, felt like he sounded. I tried to become undrunk, to enjoy it, savor it, make it count for the millions of times I’d wanted to kiss him before and would want to in the future, but wouldn’t be able to. He put one hand on my cheek, one hand on my waist, and pulled me in closer before breaking.
MOLLIE FINN
My cold, black heart almost broke when Alex and Drew kissed. I wondered if she was aware of what a favor I’d done for her, if she’d thank me later, or if she’d be pissed.
Veronica stared at Alex, whose facial redness was probably a combined result of the liter of tequila she’d guzzled and the general flustered, weak-in-the-knees, singing-birds type sensations she’d likely experienced from having finally kissed the guy she’d been secretly in love with for the better part of a decade. God, I remember when kissing Sam felt like that.…
I saw Alex mouth I’m sorry to Veronica, but V just shrugged. Muahaha. Stupid slut. Now she knew how it felt.
Alex crawled back over to Fernando and kissed him. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she sat back down next to him, and he put his arm around her, all happy and snuggly-like. Poor guy. He had no idea what he’d gotten himself tangled up in.
“Anyone else?” Sam asked around the circle. The meek, terrified sophomores just stared into their shaking laps. They seemed to have figured out that this game wasn’t really a game and they weren’t really playing. “Alex, it’s your turn again,” he said.
“I already went. Give someone else a turn,” she replied, her dark, drunk, tangled head buried in Fernando’s neck.
“Fine,” he said. “Carson, you go.”
Drew rubbed his eyes and took a big chug of beer. “I dunno, man. I can’t think of anything. I’m done.”
“Fuck that.” Sam looked around the circle. “Seidkick, you go.”
Marc Seidman: Drew’s second-in-command in the stoner troupe, thirty pounds overweight, fancied himself a wiseass, and was always saying grotesque and hilarious things. Not my least favorite to have around. I wished Sam had friends like that. Fat, funny ones. I always enjoyed that type. Jocks were good-looking and all, but not so much in the wit department.
“Okay, fine then. Carson,” said Marc, scratching his stubbly chin, “truth or dare?”
“Let’s mix it up a little. Truth,” Drew said.
Marc leaned his chubby forearms over his soft lap and said, “Why are you fucking Veronica Collins when you’re obsessed with Alex Holbrook?”
The room went silent, with the exception of a few snickers and suffocated giggles. I gasped and threw my hand over my mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. Slow clap for Marc Seidman.
“Fuck you, dude,” Drew said.
“Right?” he asked, addressing the whole circle. “It was the obvious question!”
“You’re an asshole.”
I looked at Alex, who just sat there, hiding her drunk smile behind her long fingers. Marc Seidman and the rest of Drew’s posse keeled over in laughter, heaving and pointing and smacking their legs. Veronica rolled her eyes and looked around lost, per usual.
“This is a joke, right?” she asked.
“Yes, he’s kidding,” Drew said to her, rubbing her bare, bony back. “Seidman, you wanna ask another question or is this dumbass game over?”
Sam and I elbowed each other, but touché Marc Seidman. The ultimate silent predator and clear victor of this retarded game. I had a sick desire to take him aside and join forces. Unite our camps in the name of perpetuating good (i.e., getting Alex and Drew together) and fighting evil (i.e., Veronica).
“Okay,” interjected Alex, “this game is over. It’s almost midnight.”
We all got up and refilled our drinks, as the game brought on an unwelcome gust of sobriety. We turned on the TV to watch the countdown.
“Babe,” I said, falling into Sam’s arms. “Happy New Year! I’m so happy to be starting another year with you.”
“Me too, babe.” And we kissed. God, I’d kill myself if I didn’t have a boyfriend on New Year’s. What do those girls do? Sloppily make out with Marc Seidman–types, I guess, as it looked like some of Josh’s sophomore friends were gearing up to do.
“Okay, everyone!” screamed Alex. “Get the confetti!”
Then it was five… four… three… two… one! Happy New Year!
Sam and I made out for a while, which was weird, because we never made out anymore. We kissed all the time, but lip-to-lip smacks. Kisses were an obligatory preamble to sex, unconscious extensions of hi and bye or occasionally a public declaration of our relationship when I felt we were in a situation in which our relationship needed to be declared. The making out—like full-on, tongues, hands, face touching, body groping hours of kissing—stopped months ago. Maybe even years. It used to be hard for us to even talk, because I couldn’t look at his face without kissing it. Nowadays, it was harder for me to look at his face without punching it than it was to not kiss it. I wasn’t sure if that was normal.
I looked around: Drew and Veronica were passionately groping each other and sucking face on the brown corduroy couch. Alex and Fernando were kissing, too, hugging, smiling, looking sloppy and drunk. The other boys were making out with the sophomore girls who Josh had invited. Though I hadn’t seen Josh all night. Thank god, taking my shirt off and making out with Veronica in front of Alex’s little brother really would have been an unnecessary addition to my shame list for the year. Christ, and thank god it was New Year’s, and I got to start a fresh one.
AFTER MIDNIGHT, TIME SEEMED to move really fast. I played some beer pong, took some shots, and for once didn’t feel like the drunkest person in the room. Alex had disappeared. Were she and Fernando sleeping together? There was no way that could be true and she wouldn’t have told me.… I know she’s all into not telling me things anymore, but there is no way she wouldn’t have told me that. We planned the logistics of my virginity loss for weeks. How could she not have told me that she was at least thinking about it? She probably went upstairs to check on her mom’s party or something. There was no way she’d have sex and I’d hear about it later. Had she even given Fernando a blow job? Had she given anyone one?
Veronica flitted around the stoners and Sam and Austin, and when they all went into the back room to smoke a joint, I had to pass, because weed makes me paranoid. As if I weren’t already paranoid. But then I was left, sitting alone, on that crusty corduroy couch, hungry, wondering what kind of delicious food the Holbrooks were hiding upstairs, willing myself, begging myself, not to break the seal and eat something, because I was drunk enough that once I started, I knew I wouldn’t stop.
But then Josh came over and sat with me. I hadn’t really seen or talked to him since the incident at Veronica’s party in September. God, had I really not been inside Alex’s house since September?
“Hey there,” he said with his goofy smile that looked like Alex’s dad’s. “Having fun?”
“Always,” I said with a sarcastic smile. “Josh, I…”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, shaking his head and
patting my back. “Seriously, you’re like my sister. I got your back.”
I smiled and let my shoulders relax for the first time all night. I gave him a hug.
“Well, I’m not your sister, and you didn’t have to do what you did that night, which I guess now is like embarrassingly long ago. You could have minded your own business, or left me on the lawn. You saved the day, so just shut up and let me say thank you.”
He smiled, leaned back, and switched his baseball hat from backward to forward. “You’re welcome.”
“Any cute sophomore girls you have your eye on?” I could always feel it on my skin when I tried to be sweet. I saw myself from the outside, saw how stupid I looked and could hear my inner bitch laughing and rolling her eyes. Many people out there only saw this person, and probably believed she was real. My teachers, parents, older girls at school. I truly wondered if anyone was actually sweet. Who truly cared about whom Josh Holbrook had his eye on or recycling or that someone gets well soon or has a safe trip. Did everyone fake that, or was it just me?
“Nah,” he said, giggling, “my eye’s not on any of them.”
“None of these girls are good enough for you anyway,” I said.
“So, Sam is good enough for you?”
I giggled uncomfortably, staying actively in Sweet Mollie mode. “Sam is the hottest guy in school! He’s out of my league.… And that’s what you deserve, too, Josh, a girl who’s out of your league—date up, that’s my advice.”
Josh shook his head. “Mollie, that doesn’t even make any sense. Anyone who treats you the way Sam does is fucking bush-league.”
“That’s adorable, but that’s just not how life works.”
“That is actually exactly how life works. And despite what it looks like, I know your life’s not working.”
I knew it was wrong that what I got out of that sentence was that it looks like my life is working, and that the words washed over me like a compliment and a wave of relief.
“Yes, it is. I’m as happy as I’ve ever been.” I swallowed hard, and my spine twitched as I said it. “I have everything a girl could want.”
Josh smacked his palm to his forehead and spun toward me. He put his hands on my shoulders, grabbed them hard, and shook me, quite aggressively, making it seem like his melodramatic actions were an act of playfulness, but I knew that despite the sass in our tones we were having an actual serious conversation.