Against The Wall

by Julie Prestsater

  The party is mostly filled with my English department colleagues. Teaching English can really facilitate the need to party. Reading paper after paper written by kids in high school who still can’t decipher when to use to, too, and two or who still don’t know A LOT is two words is a joke. Couple that with this insane era of technology and the need for students to write like they’re sending a text message or updating their Twitter status can really drive a person to drink. Heavily. Hence, my well-stocked refrigerator full of beer.

  Maybe one day, I’ll just have a keg and a beer tap installed in my kitchen. I can totally picture it. A tap right next to the sink. Or a button on the fridge dispenser: Ice, Cold Water, or Heffeweizen. Imagine it. I should patent that shit before someone steals my idea.

  As we walk around and say hello, I notice there’re a few people from each of the other departments sprinkled in. Mostly people my age, but some of the oldie but goodies came. The ones that can hang. Actually, some of the oldies can party harder and longer than the rest of us.

  Matty and Tyler veer off from us to get drinks. Mel and I take a seat outside with some friends.

  “Hey ladies,” we all seem to say in unison. They stand up, and hugs all around.

  Before our asses hit our chairs, Margo asks, “So Mel, who’s the hot guy who was all over you when you walked in?” Here we go.

  “He is pretty fucking hot, huh,” Mel begins. My smile fades, and I roll my eyes. This is my big brother she’s talking about. “His name is Tyler and I got him for Christmas.” I grin. She’s funny, even if she is talking about my own flesh and blood. I’d probably do the same.

  “Damn, I need to have a talk with Santa,” Jessica says. “All I got was a new cardigan. I hope you’re enjoying your present.”

  “Oh, I am,” Mel responds, fluttering her brows. “I’ve enjoyed him quite a few times actually.”

  The girls fling their heads back with howls.

  “Okay, enough,” I shout, throwing my hands up.

  “What’s wrong Shelly? Santa didn’t bring you a man for Christmas?” Jessica says, pouting her face.

  “I thought Fuller might’ve been your present,” Margo says, with a questioning stare. She raises a brow at me. I’d love to give in and stake my claim on Matty, but I can’t.

  I look at Mel, not knowing what to say. “Ah, she’s just pissed cause I’m talking nasty about her brother,” she changes the subject for me.

  “That hottie is your brother?” Jessica says.

  I nod.

  “Mel, you’re scandalous,” Margo tells her. “You can’t be talking about her brother like that. In front of her anyway.” She turns to me. “Shel, go get something to eat so she can give us the dirty details about your bro.”

  “You guys suck,” I yelp.

  I’m a few yards away when I hear the hooting and hollering. My brother must be good to get the cheers he’s getting. Gross!

  I’m almost to the coolers when I hear my name. “Hey, Shel,” Chase says. He puts his arms out to hug me. I’m not sure why. With my arms at my sides, I don’t reciprocate the gesture. “Happy New Year.” He releases me but keeps his hands on my shoulders. “I can’t remember the last time I didn’t kiss you at midnight.” He’s drunk. His eyes and nose are red, and he’s smiling like an idiot. Someone, take this guy home already.

  “Well, it won’t be happening tonight. So you can remember this one,” I say, standoffish, wiggling free from his grip.

  “Nah, we don’t want to ruin tradition,” he says, “not after ten years.” He runs the back of his hand down my cheek. Ah, his old move that made me weak at the knees. Yet, somehow it’s not working tonight.

  I try to ignore him, but can’t help but ask. “Where’s Summer?”

  He grins. “I don’t know. We’re done. I moved out before Christmas. She says I’m not over you, and she doesn’t feel like waiting around.” He cups my cheek in his hand, and I feel myself getting irritated by the look in his poop-colored brown eyes. The look that used to make me swoon.

  He’s not over me. What? He’s talking crazy. The idea does peak my interest though. Thinking about Ms. McGallian breaking up with him because he still wants me is quite satisfying. Serves the skank right. And if he even thinks he still has a chance, he’s effing crazy. That ship has already sailed, even if it does make me feel good to know he still thinks of me.

  “What are you thinking, Shel?” he asks, taking a step closer to me.

  I step back, pushing his hand away from my face. “I’m wondering why I still don’t have a beer.”

  “No need to wonder anymore.” Matty puts a cold one over my shoulder. I look back and there he is, looking concerned. I want to tell him he has absolutely nothing to be worried about, but I can’t. Not here. Not now.

  “Thanks, Matty,” I say, and then take a drink of my opened bottle of beer. I love that he always removes the cap for me.

  “What happened to Mel?” he asks me, looking around.

  “She started dishing the dirt on my brother to the girls so I had to leave,” I explain. I joke placing my finger in my mouth to mimic a fake gag.

  “Nice,” he says. “You mean you didn’t want to get the low down on the squeaky springs in the guest bedroom?” A low chuckle escapes from both of us, and I lean into him just like I would at home.

  Chase interrupts, bringing his voice down to a whisper, “Shelly, you’re not really with this guy, are you?” He must sense the answer to his question by the look on my face. With a look of hurt in his eyes, he says, “You don’t belong with him.”

  I put my hand on his arm and look into his eyes. “Chase, just go away. Okay,” I say softly. I turn around to Matty, hook my arm in his and guide him far away from Chase. “Let’s get drunk, my friend,” I tell him. We stop at the bar, and he pours me a Jager bomb. Nothing like a little friendly bonding.

  Hours later, there are about ten of us sitting at the dining room table playing Quarters. And we’re getting hammered. I find it ironic that we’re a bunch of high school teachers playing drinking games we played when we were in high school, which was a very long time ago. I guess it’s a good sign we’re not filling our glasses with a bottle of Boonesfarm Strawberry Hill. I saw it on the shelf at the store and was tempted to pick it up for tonight as a joke. But I didn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to pay $2.49 for a bottle we used to pool left over lunch money to buy for only $1.29. That’s just wrong. Inflation sucks.

  “And another shot to Mel,” Tyler says. After making three consecutive quarters in the miniature glass, he gets to pick someone to toss back a shot of tequila. About thirty minutes ago, I don’t remember who, but someone made up this outrageous rule and it went from a fun, easy going game to everyone getting shitty real quick.

  “Damn, Ty, I’m getting slizzard,” Mel says, sending everyone into bouts of laughter.

  “Dumb ass, you don’t have a G6. You can’t get slizzard in a frickin’ Prius,” I joke with her. We all laugh again, and Mel starts snorting. I take a deep breath before I start wheezing like a total dork.

  “That was good,” Mel compliments me. She holds out her fist for a bump, and I’m so happy to oblige.

  “Ty, you better stop picking on her, or you’re gonna be holding her hair back later when she’s puking,” I warn him. It wouldn’t be the first time. He always took care of Mel when we were younger.

  “Thanks for reminding me,” he says, after making another 3 bounces in. “A shot to Shel.”

  “You ass!” I yell at him.

  “Don’t worry, Shelly, I’ll hold your hair back for you, babe,” Chase yells from across the table.

  “No thanks,” I wave him off. “I’ll use a clip.” I down my drink. Hot and nasty—the tequila, and Chase.

  “If he keeps it up,” Matty whispers, referring to the endless amount of Chase’s comments tonight, “I’m gonna kick his ass.”

  “Just ignore him. He’s drunk and stupid.” And so am I, I think. I hope Matty’s not too drunk. I don’t want
to see him go to blows. That would totally be a buzz kill.

  “I’ll try,” he says. I feel his hand on the small of my back and under the influence of alcohol—a lot of alcohol—tingles spread from my eyeballs to my pinky toes. I don’t say anything or make a move. Matty touching me in front of people from work doesn’t bother me like I thought it would. His touch always feels good, more than just good at the moment. I have to cross my legs to suppress how good it feels.

  It’s my turn and I haven’t made one all night. I’m the worst Quarters player in the history of the game. Not much has changed since back in the day. Once, I almost broke my friends glasses, when I bounced it too hard and it flew full speed right at her eye. My friends can’t help but talk shit while they wait for me to throw the coin.

  “Poor, Shel. She’s never gonna get lucky again,” one person says.

  “Yeah, she can’t even use her hand to guide it in.”

  “It just bounces all around, but never makes it in the hole.”

  Nice, real nice. Somehow a drinking game involving banking a quarter in a shot glass gets turned into something sexual.

  “Shut up. This is it. I can feel it,” I begin.

  Someone cuts me off, “That’s what she said.” Funny. Haha.

  I adjust my grip again. “This quarter is gonna be my bitch.” I bounce it on the table at an angle, and for the first time tonight, it makes it in. “Woohoo,” I yell. “Go, Shel, it’s my birthday, I did it. I made a shot,” I sing and dance around with my hands in the air.

  “Matty, you’re up,” I tell him, meaning he needs to take a drink, but I can’t say the word because if I do, I’ll have to drink too.

  “Body shot,” Tyler calls out. Really? My brother is the whore of rules. How many has he made up tonight? Jeez. I lost count. But shit, according to Ty—the professional Quarters player—Matty has to do a body shot off of me.

  I look at Tyler with a sneer, and both he and Mel are giddy as hell. They’re practically jumping out of their seats. The rest of the table, including Chase, is quiet. I know my brother is enjoying this, knowing Chase is going to watch Matty lick one of my body parts. Just effing great.

  Matty looks at me, and I smile. This is a bit funny. And I’ve been dying to touch this man all night. Finally, he has an excuse to put his mouth on me, where ever I want him to.

  All the fixings are passed to us. I pull my hair over to one side, and rub a lime on the spot on my neck where it meets my shoulder. Then I shake a little salt. Did any stick or did it just go down my shirt? My train of thought is interrupted with whistles. Matty eyes are locked to mine. “Whenever you’re ready,” I tell him, dizzy with anticipation.

  I feel his familiar arm wrap around my waist and draw me toward him. The touch of his strong hand on the small of my back squeezes my girl parts. I tilt my head to grant him access to my neck and he dives right in. His tongue is warm on my body as he licks and sucks off the salt, lingering a lot longer than necessary and sending shivers down to my core. When he’s done with his taste of me, he fixes his eyes to mine again before downing the shot. I hold the lime up to my mouth, egging him on to come and get it. When his lips are close, I move the fruit out of the way to take Matty in for the kiss I’ve been hungry for all night. He doesn’t hesitate. His lips cover mine, and then our tongues mingle, taking me to a place I’ve never been with just a kiss. He has one hand on my waist and the other wrapped up in my hair as our mouths continue to make love. I squeeze his hips, pressing our bodies together. He backs away planting a few kisses on the bridge of my nose and just under my eyes. I know he’s smooching my freckles. I reach up to cup his face in my hands. His lips touch mine again, and my fingers rush through his hair as he trails kisses down my chin, neck, and collarbone. When he’s had enough, he puts some space between us, rests his head on my shoulder and we’re both still as can be, in each other’s arms.

  I hear a bunch of chatter all at the same time.

  “Now that’s one hell of a body shot.”

  “Just buddies, my ass!”

  “They are so not just friends anymore.”

  “Doesn’t look like she’s gonna take you back, Chase.”

  “Wow, I think I just came!”

  “Alrighty, Shel, you get to go again unless you need a minute to cool down,” Tyler says. “And Fuller, watch your back. I’m gonna wipe that smile off your face when you least expect it.”

  Everyone laughs.

  Mel chimes in, “You’re the douche who just called body shot on your own sister. Don’t get mad Matt just full on manhandled your baby sis.” She winks at me. “She didn’t look like she minded though.”

  More laughter.

  I look up at Matty, who runs his left hand through his hair. It doesn’t matter that he’s had a few, he’s still embarrassed. Trying to comfort him, I rest my head against his shoulder and he kisses the top of my head.

  “Are we going to play or what?” Chase shouts.

  Chapter Eighteen

  As the countdown nears, what Chase said earlier hits me. For the last ten years, I have kissed him at midnight. Whether we were at a party, or bringing in the New Year at home, it was always Chase. It’s feels a little weird we’re both here, but we won’t be sharing this moment together. Time to move on, I guess, but just when I think I have, things like this creep up on me.

  Margot and Mel run around passing out plastic champagne flutes to everyone, while I ponder what will happen at the stroke of midnight. Someone else dishes out noise makers. Speaking of noise, I’ve already heard several gunshots, which always makes me nervous. Jessica turns on the TV and changes the channel to the countdown in Times Square. Less than five minutes.

  This year is going to be so different from last. Teachers usually think of a year in terms of an academic calendar, but this time, I’m going to take the plunge and make a New Year’s resolution. I’m not sure what it’s going to be yet, but I know it doesn’t involve needing a man to be happy and fretting over jackasses who have done me wrong.

  This year is going to be my bitch, just like that quarter was.

  “5—4—3—2—1—Happy New Year!” is heard all around.

  This first person I celebrate with is Mel. We hold out our arms and give each other the biggest girly hug ever. “I love you,” I tell her. And she tells me the same.

  Next, I hug my brother. It’s comforting to have him here, and in this moment, I really feel how much I miss him and wish he’d come home.

  And then … Matty. I fling my hands around his neck and yank him down for my first New Year’s kiss. He lifts me off the ground and hugs me so tightly I feel it in my ribs. I lift my legs to encircle his waist and I don’t want to let go.

  “Sorry,” I say into his ear. “I couldn’t resist.”

  “Shhh. This is perfect.” He kisses me again, this time on the cheek before I feel my feet touch the floor.

  For the next few minutes, we circle the room exchanging hugs and best wishes for the upcoming year. It reminds me of square dancing in the fifth grade. You dance with one person and then turn to another, constantly changing partners until …

  Chase is right in front of me.

  He opens his arms to me. My first thought is to punch him in the gut, but then I realize if I stay mad at him forever, I may never move on. I have to work with this guy so I need to fix it. Sure, he’s a total dick for what he did, but holding a grudge forever makes it seem like I’m holding on to him. And I’m done with the past. I know I’m over Chase. I don’t feel that yearning for him anymore, or even the pain of what he did.

  I’ve really moved on.

  I get it now.

  Finally.

  So I open my arms to him too, and we embrace. It feels a lot like a goodbye to my past. Like I’m finally letting go. I don’t feel sad. What I feel is more like relief, that I’m free from his hold on me. I’m free to start fresh this year, and not be tied up with all the nonsense of Chase.

  I release my hold on him and try to step ba
ck. I look up at him and smile a farewell. At least, it’s what I feel like I’m doing. Chase doesn’t get it though because he takes this as his chance to plant a smackdown on me with his lips mashed into mine. I put my hands on his shoulders to push him back, but then I just relax in the moment. If I wasn’t sure before—even though I was pretty fucking sure—I know now it’s totally over. Chase’s lips are totally smothered all over mine right now—his mouth is closed, thank God—and I feel nothing. I let it continue to be sure, but still … nothing. Not a damn thing. Zilch. No wobbly knees, no tingling in my thighs, no heat penetrating down there. No love making my heart go pitter patter. Nothing. Zip.

  It’s over.

  We finally separate. I pat his chest and tell him, “Thank you, Chase. That was just what I needed.” I give him one last smile and turn to walk away forever—metaphorically speaking though, because I will still see him at work on Monday. But when I turn, I see Matty, who does not look too happy to see me.

  He doesn’t say anything. He walks away, and as I hurry to follow him, Mel stops me.

  “Did I just see you kissing Chase?” she asks, with a disgusted look on her face.

  “Yeah, but it’s not what you think.”

  “I’ve heard that before. What the shithole, Shel?”

  “I’ll explain to you later. Right now, I need to talk to Matty,” I reply.

  I wander around outside but there is no sign of him. I look throughout the house, but he’s not there either. The car, maybe he went to the car.

  I grab my coat and head outside. I walk past many houses and when I get to where we’re parked, he’s not there either. I must have missed him inside.

  When I get back to the party, I see Mel first.

  “I can’t find Matty,” I tell her.

  “He left,” she says.

  “What? No he didn’t. His car is still here,” I explain.

  “He gave your brother his keys and got a ride with John.” She throws her arm around me and squeezes. “He’s pretty upset. You kissed Chase? Of all fucking people?”