Never Have I Ever

by Clearwing, August

  The hours wore on, and the guests slowly trickled out to their cars. Out on the back porch, I nursed my drink and lit up a cigarette while I watched the water in the pool lap against the edges. It rained on and off for a while. The nice buzz I had going coupled with the drizzle to relax me.

  “Do you have a lighter I can borrow,” a male voice requested from behind me. I spun around to see who was asking.

  He couldn’t have been too much older than me, maybe twenty eight on the high end, with straight black hair that sort of feathered itself down across his forehead and around his ears. His hazel eyes were bright and welcoming. Even the light, scattered freckles across his cheeks were attractive. They gave him a splash of boyish charm. He also followed Anya’s rules about parties; he wore a black and red button down which he kept unbuttoned over a black undershirt that could have been just a tad small for his slender, toned frame. I glimpsed the outline of his pecs through the fabric. His blue jeans came pre-torn in strategic, flattering places.

  Once I took in the bit of eye candy beside me, I fished through my clutch purse for my Zippo and passed it to him. “Yeah, no problem, here you go.”

  “Thanks.” He flicked it open, lit the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and took a long drag from it before passing the lighter back to me.

  I glanced around the back porch. No one else was around. I made out the time on the wall clock in the kitchen through the sliding glass door. It read 12:47. The living room and kitchen looked barer by the minute as everyone either claimed a back room or was dragged from the party by their designated driver. I should have been among the crowd that left long ago.

  “How do you know Anya?” I asked the stranger absently.

  “Oh, I don’t, not really. More of an acquaintance. I’m here with Declan. Someone has to keep an eye on him. That’s not weird, is it? I kind of feel like I’m crashing the party.”

  “Not weird at all. I only recognize a handful of people too. And I may have undone all of your hard work tonight by introducing him to a girl.”

  He laughed and flicked some ash from his cigarette off the back porch. “So, you’re the one to blame for him ditching me.”

  I shrank back toward the house a bit. “Yeah. Sorry. He asked me to.”

  “It’s hard to say no to that man when he asks you for something,” he agreed with a smile. Then he pointed to my glass. “What are you drinking?”

  I looked at the brownish red liquid swimming in the ice. “Jack and Coke… I think?”

  He motioned for a sip to test it. I handed him the glass.

  “Nope, that’s Sailor Jerry.”

  “Rum,” I sighed and accepted the drink back. “That explains a lot. By the way, I’m Piper.” Having decided to at least attempt to meet people, I offered my hand out to shake.

  He was about to introduce himself, but then his sights were glued on the events unfolding in the living room through the large bay windows behind me. “Fuck me running,” he breathed out the words more than spoke them.

  I turned to see what he was referring to. Most of the guests meandered away from the party by this point, and the living room consisted of seven people; Anya, Declan, and Sarah, the girl I thrust onto Declan earlier that night, were among them. They all gathered into a circle around the coffee table.

  “Excuse me a second.” He snuffed his cigarette and placed his glass on the table beside us before walking briskly to the sliding glass door. I couldn’t hear much of the conversation above muffled voices, but watched inaudible dialogue through the glass between him and Declan for a minute before he returned.

  “Is everything okay in there?”

  He took his drink from the table and bobbed his head towards the doors. “Probably not, but we should be in there anyway.”

  For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what he meant. I followed him back into the house, securing the door behind me. “What’s going on?”

  “Piper!” Anya called. Everyone around her mimicked her, calling my name out in another round. Somehow my name had become a universal greeting for the night.

  “Are you playing?” Declan asked. He was busy fishing my bottle of Stoli from the freezer. I was surprised to find it was more full than not, though I had a sinking suspicion it wouldn’t be full for long.

  “What are we playing?” I asked, taking a cautious step forward.

  The man with whom I was speaking a few moments ago just shook his head and mouthed a silent “No” at me.

  Declan rounded the corner of the kitchen and clapped him on his back. “Don’t puss out on me now, Noah.”

  Noah. So, that was his name. Handsome, charming guy. Equally handsome, charming name.

  Declan uncapped the bottle of Stoli and placed it delicately on the glass top of the coffee table. He explained, “We are playing a game called Never Have I Ever.”

  Noah’s head dropped. “Bad idea, man.”

  “Why? It’s just a game,” I said. I slipped between the sofa and loveseat to sit on the floor in front of the coffee table. To make myself seem braver than I actually was, I added, “I’m in.”

  Holy shit, the drinking loosened me up well tonight. The normal Piper would never agree to play a game she didn’t even know the rules to.

  Anya laughed, “That’s the spirit! Live a little, my dearest nerd!”

  Noah spun a wooden chair from the dining room around on one leg and sat across from me and beside Declan. He rested his glass on the coffee table and motioned for it to be filled. As Declan grinned and poured him a glass Noah said, “Fair warning to all of those involved: this game usually leads to most participants getting naked.”

  Declan stopped pouring. “That was one time, dude.”

  “Twice,” Noah said as he held up two fingers. “I’m counting the summer camping trip.”

  “Fine. No getting naked. Yet.” Declan agreed. It was the closest anyone was going to get to a surrender from him, so we all took it.

  He reached for my glass and filled it with another two shots of Stoli. I topped it off with the leftover can of Sprite that was sitting on the table.

  “How do we play?” I asked.

  Anya filled her glass. After she passed it to the two girls occupying the loveseat she explained, “Someone makes an assertion. If you’ve done the thing that they say, you drink. If you’re the only one drinking, you will probably have to give us details. If no one drinks to your turn, you have to drink.”

  I nodded. “Seems simple enough.”

  “I’ll go first,” Anya said. She raised her glass. “Never have I ever rented a porno.”

  Every single man and one of the girls on the loveseat took a drink. I at once realized what this game was meant to do.

  “You’re a bitch,” Declan said as he swallowed an ice cube. Then he smiled knowingly and tilted his head toward her. “Never have I ever had a sex dream about a professor.”

  Anya and one of the girls on the loveseat took a drink. I was finding out more about my friends—and total strangers for that matter—in one night than I ever should.

  Sarah spoke up. “Never have I ever… gotten lost in the woods.” Nobody drank, and the poor girl sighed and took the hit, sloshing back a whole mouthful.

  Noah was next. He drove the conversation in a less sexual direction. “Never have I ever cheated on a test.”

  The two guys, Declan, and I all drank.

  “Wait, no, hold up,” Anya commanded. “Piper, when the fuck did you cheat on a test?”

  My voice hitched, “Um, sixth grade. It was on an English test. Lowest moment of my life.” Everyone laughed. I tried to justify myself, “No, I’m serious! I suck at English. I’m entirely left brained.”

  The first girl on the love seat was next. She smacked her lips as she thought about her statement. “Okay, I got one. Going back to the topic of sex dreams; never have I ever had a dream or a fantasy about being raped.”

  “Marcia, that’s awful,” her date chided. “Why would you even say someth
ing like that?”

  She shrugged. “Because I want to know.”

  My entire body stiffened. This was a game of truth or dare without the dare, and I was stuck in a difficult spot. Nobody, especially Declan and Anya, had ever heard about my deepest desires, my fantasies, or anything about my sexual past for the most part. I was content with it staying that way. There was no reason to kiss and tell, and it was certainly none of their business.

  As the seconds ticked on, my throat tightened, and my stomach plummeted so fast I thought it would break through to China at the speed of thought. While they were all berating Marcia for her tactless statement, I took the opportunity to sneak in a sip of my drink.

  Then I heard Declan’s voice pitch, “Holy shit, really?”

  All eyes were on me before I could take the glass away from my lips. Anya’s jaw slackened. “You are the most uptight and prudish girl I know. How is this only now coming to light?”

  I glared at her. “I’m not a prude, Anya, I just have standards.”

  “As in, rich and famous?”

  “Sweetheart, I make sixty grand a year with all the work I do and I’m not even full time on anything yet. I think it’s safe to say I’m financially secure.”

  “So, just famous then.”

  I rolled my eyes. Where had she gotten that idea?

  Declan waved away the tension. “Okay, you don’t have to go into detail with that one, but you do have to tell us which it was; fantasy or a dream?”

  I stared at my drink. Liquid courage don’t fail me now! I tilted the glass all the way back and killed the remainder of the alcoholic mix. It was mostly vodka by that point. After I swallowed it down, I locked my attention on the glass as I set it delicately on the table. “Both,” I admitted.

  A round of whooping and good-natured laughter rose up from both the nameless men and the two women. Even Declan applauded.

  My cheeks were flushed solid from the alcohol as well as the embarrassment. When I looked up, Noah leveled his gaze at me. He raised his glass towards me in a toasting motion and said, “That is the single bravest thing I have ever heard anyone admit to in this game.”

  I gave him a wan smile, but reached for the bottle of Stoli in an attempt to look busy and not seem so fucking awkward.

  “Someone else say something,” I implored. “Please.”

  The second girl sat up a little straighter on the loveseat and said promptly, “Never have I ever smoked weed.” To which Anya, Declan, Noah, and one of the other guys took long drinks.

  “You’re up, Piper,” Anya said.

  Lightning crashed and thunder ricocheted over the house. I looked out the bay windows at the backyard as the rain began to pour. I don’t know why I thought about it, but I was more than a little sure it had everything to do with the liquor. “Never have I ever kissed anyone in the rain.”

  Anya tried to hide a chuckle as she reached down from the sofa to hug me around my shoulders. “Aawww, honey.”

  Everyone except me took a drink.

  My outburst of admittance about the rape fantasy was drowned out by the completion of the round of Never Have I Ever and, three rounds later, most of us playing the game were plenty hammered. The questioning ran the gamut from the mild, with statements of skinny dipping and petty theft, to more bold claims of sexual exploits and certain places in which no one had ever done the deed. It was later explained to me that most of the time the game dwindled into sex talk. In my inebriated state, I accepted that with open arms. To my credit I came to find that no one drank less than me. After the first round, my life became boring by comparison.

  Marcia, for example, not only had been skinny dipping, but found time to fuck in all the unusual places I always heard so much about. It meant a laundry list of locations if she was telling the truth. In a cave under a waterfall, in the back of a truck, in a sleeping bag while camping and on top of a high rise, to name a few. She admitted that most of those were with the same partner, so in some ways it made her seem like less of a tramp. To add to this, Anya confessed to being arrested, falling asleep in a theatre, breaking hearts, owning a fake ID and many other adventurous things which now became clear that I was too scared to attempt.

  One by one everyone began to fade. Too drunk to drive, Marcia and her male counterpart sought refuge in one of the empty guest beds. The other couple left together, the girl half asleep in the passenger’s side of a Ford pickup while her sober date assured us that he was fine to drive. I only saw him take a sip or two from whatever drink the girl happened to be carrying, so I believed him.

  I had every intention of sobering up enough to drive myself home, though the prospect seemed less and less plausible the harder the vodka began to smash into my brain. I excused myself from Anya, Declan and Noah long enough to step outside, have a smoke, and clear my head.

  Rain pattered on the roof of the overhang on the back porch. I sat on the bench at the edge of the dry space and watched it fall. It collected in little rivers along the walkway and in the pool. As I lit a cigarette and studied the pattern of rain over the backlight of the pool I thought about what Anya said; the accusatory nature in her tone when she labeled me “Prude” and the shock in her voice when she discovered something no one should ever know. I wished I possessed the words to explain the reasoning behind the fantasy, but I just couldn’t find them.

  With the exception of the rain, there was no sound from anywhere. The others inside calmed down in their respective stupors. I glanced at my phone. Three o’clock already. I needed to sober up faster.

  The sliding glass door opened behind me. I only glanced back briefly to see Anya slowly meander towards the bench, her face flush and her eyes glazed over a bit. She half sat, half flopped down beside me. “I’m drunk,” Anya declared. She huffed out an inebriated sigh and lolled her head against my shoulder.

  “No shit,” I chuckled. “Me too.”

  “How come you’re not passed out? I figured you’d not be long for this world after the, you know, thing.” And there went Anya’s linguistic skills.

  “You mean the drinking game?”

  She snapped and pointed at me. “That’s it.”

  “Damn good question.” I took a drag off my cigarette. The door slid open again, and Noah emerged. “Hey,” I offered in greeting.

  “Hey yourself,” he replied casually. “Dec and I were trying—unsuccessfully mind you—to get her to go to bed. How’s she doing?”

  Anya grumbled, but didn’t lift her head from my shoulder to say, “She is completely conscious and can hear you talking about her.”

  “Care to join us?” I asked him. It was clear Anya harbored zero intention of moving at that moment. I was attempting not to laugh at our combined state of intoxication. Noah silently took a seat in a white metal chair off to the side to await his turn for custody of our hostess.

  “Piper,” Anya said abruptly.

  “Anya,” I replied.

  “Am I a bitch?”

  I wrapped my arm around her and rested my head against hers. “Oh, sweetie; after the year you’ve had you’ve every right to be a bitch for a while.”

  “I just keep wondering what’s wrong with me. Eight years, Piper. Eight years of my life are gone with the stroke of a pen. Suddenly it’s like it never happened, and we don’t know each other. Something’s wrong with that. It’s criminal.”

  “Don’t think of it as eight years wasted,” I soothed. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Anya. The best you can do is learn from those years. If it’s platitudes you want, I have them in spades. Better to have loved and lost and all that bullshit. You don’t need platitudes, though. You just need time and nights like this one with good friends, good booze, and good memories.”

  “I just thought it would get easier for some reason. I talked myself through everything, you know. ‘Cause that’s what I do. All the crap therapists try to talk you through after something life-altering. But it still hurts. Why does it still hurt?”

  I ran my hand over her
hair and asked, “Did it mean something to you?”

  Anya snorted. “Eight years. Of course it meant something.”

  My grip around her tightened a little. “That’s why it hurts.”

  “Anya, you’ll feel better after you get some sleep,” Noah finally interjected. He stood, offering out his hand to help her up.

  “I can walk,” she assured him.

  “Sleep well, hun,” I told her, giving her a warm hug she probably wouldn’t remember in the morning.

  “Love you, girl,” she said. I let her out of the confines of my arms, and she slipped past him. “L,” she added as she went inside. She’d held up her hand in the shape of an L also.

  I smiled and returned the hand signal.

  With Anya securely inside, I tried again to rub the haze from my eyes.

  “L?” Noah asked.

  “It’s Anya’s version of ‘See you later’.”

  He took a moment to consider that. “Humanity at its finest; to be able to take a phrase like ‘See you later’ and continuously shorten it to ‘see you’ or just ‘later’, then devolve it further into ‘L’. It may be the alcohol talking, but I’m not sure whether that’s a sign of efficiency or laziness in our culture.”

  “I guess it depends on if you’re an optimist or pessimist.”

  “Eternal pragmatist,” he said with confidence. “I like what you said, by the way, about it hurting because it meant something to her. A very succinct and honest response.”

  “Thanks. I try.”

  Noah backed away towards the door. “I’m going to go make sure she doesn’t miss the bed this time.”

  “Good call.”

  I took one more drag off my cigarette and extinguished it in a bucket of sand nearby. The rain looked so inviting and cool. I slipped off my heels, set my phone and pack of cigarettes aside and stepped into the wet grass. The earth squished between my toes as I walked along the perimeter of the pool and out into the yard. Water saturated my dress while I lifted my face to the sky and allowed the rain to wash away my makeup, hoping it would take the haze of my drunkenness with it.

  It almost worked, too. I shook my head, the water splashing from the straightening curls of my hair, and wiped the wet from my eyes. I lost time, unsure of how long I stood in the middle of the grass.