The Big F

by Maggie Ann Martin

  My palms did that sweating thing again. Thankfully, Zoe could keep it calm under pressure. “What’re you having?” she asked.

  “We’re having beer, but if you girls want something else—”

  “Beer’s great, thanks,” I butted in.

  “Last time you were at a party you weren’t much of a beer fan,” Luke said, coming out of the bathroom. My insides flopped, and I wasn’t quite sure what my facial expression was. Probably an overly giddy smile that I would regret later.

  “She was designated driver last time,” Zoe said, coming up to him. “I’m Zoe.”

  “The best friend,” Luke said, taking her hand. “Great to finally meet you.”

  He came over to me, and I felt that same intense fluttering that I felt during our date. He leaned over and kissed my cheek and whispered that I looked great. I could have died right there and been happy. Zoe was grinning so hard that I thought she might cry. He rested his hand on my lower back and took a sip from the can he’d already been drinking from. Porter handed a beer to Zoe and raised his eyebrows in a silent question to me. I nodded, and he handed it my way. I stared down at the unopened beer can and suddenly felt like a baby in high heels. It’s not like I had never drunk before—Zoe and I had some pretty wild nights of alcoholic experimentation when her mom was gone for a weekend—but I never had socially before.

  Porter nudged my arm. “This is the only one I’ll drink tonight. I’ll stay nice and sober so the rest of you can have a little fun.”

  “Cool, thank you,” I said.

  He leaned in closer. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to, though. That’s totally okay.”

  In a surge of relief, I popped the tab of the can and shook my head. “Let’s have some fun.”

  Porter smiled. “I expect the sober buddy role to be reversed the next time, just so you know.”

  “Dude,” Luke said.

  “It’s okay. This is our thing, right, Danielle?” Porter asked.

  I felt Luke’s hand grip ever so slightly on my back, and I wondered if that bothered him. “I guess so. But I have no problem giving you a hard time, Kohl, don’t forget that.”

  Luke laughed, and his hand found a more relaxed position on my back again. Zoe still had a giant smile on her face. “This is so fun,” she said.

  “Hey, Porter, why don’t you give Zoe the grand tour? I have something to show Danielle,” Luke said.

  “Yeah, sure,” Porter said, turning to Zoe. “This right here is our very expensive and cracked laminate flooring that was put in here about fifty years ago. And here is our ancient stove…”

  I giggled to myself as Luke led me to his bedroom. It was pretty plain, only one poster for a TV show I’d never heard of hung on the walls. He crouched down and looked under his bed, which I assumed he had made for the first time since he’d lived here. If I remembered one thing from the old Upton house, it was that Luke’s room always looked like a robber had ransacked everything. He pulled out a shoe box and set it on his bed, quickly sitting down. He patted a spot next to him, and I joined him.

  “I found this at our old storage space that we left here. We didn’t have room to bring everything back with us, so we always thought we’d come up and get it once we moved. It was Olivia’s,” he said.

  “Oh my God, that was our time capsule. I thought your dad buried that thing!” I exclaimed.

  “I guess Olivia left it in there so it’d be easier to find,” he said. “You don’t have to open it now; I just thought you would want to have it.”

  I reached inside and peeled out a half-licked candy bracelet that stuck to the side of the box. I didn’t know whether to be grossed out or impressed that it stayed intact for so many years. A handmade frame containing a picture of High School Musical–era Zac Efron came out next, complete with two shiny lip gloss kiss marks on his cheeks. I pulled out a cracked CD with the title “Best Friends Forever” scribbled on it next, followed by the illustrious wedding planning book. I held it close to my chest, knowing full well that if I opened it now I might cry.

  I didn’t know what to say; the emotions and memories of my childhood came back quickly. I closed my eyes, remembering the day that Liv and I had said good-bye and she promised to keep this forever. When I opened my eyes again, Luke’s face was inches away from mine. We breathed shakily before he leaned forward to meet his lips to mine.

  It started out light, our lips meeting twice before he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. The book tumbled out of my lap as I scooted closer to him. It felt so familiar, so safe to be with him after all these years. I felt like destiny or fate had known when we were younger that our paths would cross again and that something so sweet would be able to form later in life. I pulled away, and we both had goofy smiles on our faces. “How about we go put Zoe and Porter out of their misery?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me off the bed. I kept my fingers laced in his as we left the room. When we came out, Zoe and Porter were on their hands and knees, looking under their futon. “What’re you two doing?”

  “Just showing her where we sometimes throw our dirty clothes,” Porter said. Zoe was still laughing and a part of me wondered why Porter was being so nice and charming with her while he’d been snarky to me since day one.

  “You never told me he was so funny,” Zoe said, patting Porter on the arm.

  “Who knew,” I said, shrugging. “Are you two ready to go?”

  They both got up, and Zoe and I left our drinks on their counter. We went down a different stairwell than we had come in and found Porter’s Jeep in the back parking lot. Porter and Zoe scooted into the front seat, and Luke helped me into the back. Once inside, he pulled me close, putting his arm around the back of my seat. Obviously I was in heaven.

  “So where are we going?” Porter asked.

  “One-ninety Birch Street,” I said. “Paige Masterson’s house. She went to high school with Zoe and me.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he said, turning up the radio. It had reached the point in the night when the radio played club remixes instead of the normal top forty, and I felt myself dancing to the songs that I’d recognized from work earlier. Luke tapped his fingers along to the beat, occasionally brushing my shoulder. I knew that it was killing Zoe not to peek back at us, but I secretly applauded her for playing it so cool tonight. She really was my saving grace in this entire situation.

  The house looked less trashed than the first party we’d been to. Maybe that was the difference of girls owning the house. Where Cody’s party had cans and kids streaming out of it, Paige’s house was clean; the only sign of a party was the occasional silhouette of a body passing in front of the curtain. Porter had to park a little way down the street, and Luke helped me out of the car. I suddenly wished that I’d decided against heels. Heels are hard enough sober.

  We walked in to find different groups of kids in the front two rooms—one group sitting around and talking, and the other side dancing. Paige Masterson popped her head out of the sitting group and waved at us. “Zoe! Danielle! How nice of you two to come! Kayla mentioned that you were asking—”

  “It’s great to see you too,” I interjected, cutting her off from admitting that my little brother had hooked us up with the party details.

  “So how are you guys?” she asked.

  “We’re great, it’s been too long,” Zoe said.

  Paige eyed Luke and Porter and held out her hand. “I’m Paige.”

  They both exchanged pleasantries, and then Paige turned back to me. “Drinks are in the kitchen. Just give Mike five bucks—your choice of keg or juice.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I took Luke’s hand again, and he led me into the kitchen. Luke and Porter both went up to Mike and handed him ten dollars in exchange for drinks. Porter brought his to an eager Zoe and Luke handed me the one he bought. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’ll just drink beer,” he said.

  “Let’s go dance!�
� Zoe said, tipping back her cup. Oh boy. Porter nodded and walked with her into the dancing half of the house where people were mostly just swaying. When the music picked up some jumping occurred, and Zoe grabbed Porter around the neck and danced with him.

  “Are you much of a dancer?” Luke asked.

  “Not so much.” I laughed.

  “Me either,” he said. “So this should be interesting.”

  He tipped back his beer, and I followed suit before he dragged me out to the dance floor. Zoe laughed as we joined her and Porter, and I just shook my head. We bobbed to the music, and I threw back whatever was in the cup. My dance moves started out incredibly awkward with my hand in his, sort of swinging it. Then he grabbed my waist and pulled me closer. Sure, I wasn’t much of a dancer, but I could get used to this.

  Time started to pass in a blur between dancing and more drinks. Sometimes the only thing I could see was Luke’s face, so I tried to focus on that to keep the room from spinning. Luke and I wove through the crowd of people that had suddenly appeared, and I struggled to keep ahold of his hand. It felt like the crowd pulsed around me, and the small size of the house started to really dawn on me. My breathing became shallow, and I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate. I stopped dancing, and Luke bent down to talk in my ear.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I think I need some air.”

  We made our way out the back sliding doors and any thoughts of claustrophobia disappeared. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You feeling okay?” he asked.

  “Fine,” I said, still trying to keep him from spinning. I leaned up against the house, and he trailed his finger down my arm, making me shiver.

  “We can go and sit down if you want,” he said.

  I nodded, and he led me back into the house. Another blast of music erupted as we walked in, and a tall guy almost ran into Luke and me. “Man, I need you for beer pong! You’re the best player here!”

  “Can’t tonight, man,” he said. “Danielle, this is Max—he’s on the team with me.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I think I said. The combination of the loud music and the biggest amount of alcohol I’d ever consumed made my words sound fuzzy.

  “Go ahead and play,” Porter said, coming up beside me. “I’ll get her some water and sit her down.”

  I turned to Porter. “Where’s Zoe?”

  He pointed toward the sea of dancers at my little drunken Zoe, who enjoyed dancing with random boys. “She’s fine, I’m watching her. Go play, man.”

  Luke turned to me. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, don’t let them down,” I managed to say. He leaned down and pecked a quick kiss on my lips before bouncing off with the beer pong guy. Porter led me through the people, keeping a light touch on the small of my back. We made our way to the couches where people sat and talked, next to a guy who had passed out. I managed to sink down next to the passed-out guy, and Porter leaned forward.

  “I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” he said.

  “Wait,” I said, grabbing his wrist. “Why are you being nice to me? I thought you didn’t like me, but you’re being nice now.”

  He smiled. “I like you fine, Drunky. Please don’t move.”

  I sank back into the couch and crossed my arms. I didn’t feel that drunk. Granted, sober me probably would have never said anything to Porter about being mean so blatantly, but it still kind of bothered me that Luke left. It’s not like Zoe and Porter splitting up—they weren’t on a date.

  Porter reappeared in the room with a large glass of water in hand. He moved the passed-out guy’s legs a little to the left and crashed down into the sofa extremely close to me. I scooted over a bit as he handed me the cup. “Thanks,” I said.

  “It’ll all be repaid in due time,” he said. I rolled my eyes. That was the Porter I knew. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small notebook. “I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to play a little game.”

  “Pin the tail on the dumbass?” I asked.

  “Her humor is still intact, ladies and gentlemen!” he yelled. People looked over at us, and I covered my face, laughing. “We’re going to play a little game of I Spy.”

  “I spy with my drunken eye a boy who has had too much to drink,” I said, pointing at the guy next to us.

  “That’s everywhere, Dan, be a little more creative,” he said. “How about we add on to that observation? See the girls across the room? One of them is holding a permanent marker. The other girl has obviously been crying, so my guess is that’s her boyfriend who had too much to drink and her plans for a fun night out are ruined. Now they’re thinking about what to draw on his face.”

  “Whoa,” I said. I watched him write bits and pieces of it down in a notebook and looked back up at him. “What are these for?”

  “Documenting the college experience,” he said. “I’m attempting to solve clichéd riddles of new adulthood.”

  I giggled. “You’re using some pretty big words to describe stalking.”

  “I prefer the term observing,” he said. “Besides, I’m showing you so you can help. You’re gaining the true freshman experience. Can you describe how your first night of partying is going?”

  I scoffed. “This isn’t my first drinking party.”

  “The fact that you call it a drinking party kind of proves my point,” he said.

  I curled my legs underneath me. “Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure.”

  “But you act like you know everything all the time. It’s really annoying,” I said.

  “Are you always this honest?” He laughed.

  I shrugged. “Only time will tell.”

  A very newly drunken Luke came stumbling into the room and crouched down by Porter and me. He wobbled, almost falling on his butt, but Porter grabbed him by the arm to keep him upright. “We won! They wanted me to play again, but I wanted to come see you.”

  Porter stood up, helping Luke into his spot. “I’ll go find Zoe,” he said. He left before I could tell him thank you again.

  Luke pulled my legs onto his lap and kissed me, making the room spin again but in a good way. “I had to ask if you would be my girlfriend before I forgot to do it.”

  “Oh!” I said, a little thrown off.

  “Please say yes,” he said, pouting before kissing my neck.

  “I mean, yeah. Sure?” I said. In a drunken pact, Luke Upton, the man of my eleven-year-old dreams, became my boyfriend. Not necessarily the romantic gesture I’d pictured so vividly for many years, but cute nonetheless.

  “So, as your boyfriend, am I allowed to go crush another team in beer pong?” he asked.

  “Go for it,” I said, giving him an encouraging pat on the back. He popped up from the couch and pointed at me and touched his chest dramatically like a baseball player who just hit a home run before leaving. The party slid around me in a blur of people and music. The lull of the constant noise made me sway in my spot until my body inched farther down the couch, my head hitting the armrest.

  I was shaken awake roughly, and the sound of the music that had lulled me to sleep now blasted in my head. I covered my ears and groaned, trying to roll over and fall back asleep forever.

  “Come on, time to go home,” someone said.

  “Zoe?” I asked, reaching out to grab her hand.

  “Zoe’s already in the car ready to go,” the voice said. “This is Porter. No, Danielle, you can’t fall back asleep.”

  “Five more minutes,” I said. I nestled into the corner of the couch for a few more blissful seconds before my body was lifted off the couch.

  “Zoe, you’re strong,” I said.

  “Again, very much not Zoe,” the voice said again. “Can you at least wrap your arms around my neck? This whole dead-weight thing is not going to end well for either of us.”

  “Fine,” I said. Zoe’s neck muscles had grown significantly since I last touched them. I
would have to ask which Zumba classes she’d been taking. We made a slow trip to the car, stopping a few times to hoist me up. Someone opened the car door and helped me buckle up in the backseat. My head rested on the window, and I was finally able to fall back asleep.

  “Hey, Danielle. Dan, wake up,” the voice said again. “You’re home. Where are your keys?”

  “In my bag,” I said, or at least I thought I had said.

  “I don’t understand sleepy English. Did you say in your bag?” the voice asked.

  I nodded, and the person grabbed for my bag, fishing around for my keys. The person placed them in my hand before patting the side of my face.

  “You’re really not going to wake up, are you?” the voice asked.

  My lack of response must have answered the person’s question. The person helped me to the front door and let us inside.

  “Can you crash on the couch? Or can you make it up to your room?” the voice asked.

  “I’m fine,” I said, wrapping the person in a bear hug. “Thank you.”

  I felt a small pat on the top of my head before they left the hug. “Lock this door behind me.”

  I saluted the person. I crawled onto the couch and silently prayed to any god who would listen that I remembered to set my alarm for seven a.m. before Mom’s clients would be over.

  FUTURE:

  an expected or projected state.

  My alarm blared promptly at seven a.m., and I opened my eyes, disoriented for a moment by being on the floor in front of the couch. My back ached from sleeping on the floor all night, and my head pounded. The only thing that kept me from falling back asleep on the floor was the smell of freshly brewed coffee coming from the kitchen. But if coffee was brewing that could only mean—

  “Good morning, Danielle,” Mom said, standing over me with her cup of joe.

  “Morning,” I said, lifting myself from the ground. “I fell asleep at Luke’s. I think he must have just been able to get me this far into the house before giving up.”

  “You are quite the heavy sleeper,” she said.

  I stood up, straightening out my wrinkled clothes. “I’ll just head upstairs before your clients get here.”