Blurred Lines

If I leave a little around midnight I can get back by 1. 

“Hey, I’ll be back by 1. I’ll text you if anything changes though.”

“Okay, sounds good. Be careful! We’ll be here,” my sister responded from the coach sitting with her husband watching tv. 

The drive was definitely further than I wanted to go. I went back and forth for a while, but I hadn’t seen Nick probably since graduation, so I thought it’d be good to go catch up and see how he was doing. We had always been close, so I didn’t mind not having money laying around for gas; I’d make it work. On that thought, I certainly didn’t have money laying around to pick up drinks for myself either. I thought I’d just bum a couple from the guys. I didn’t plan on staying long anyway. 

About an hour into the drive, I reached the address Nick had sent me. It was dark and only a couple cars were parked in the driveway. I called to make sure I was in the right place. 

“Hey, I think I’m here!”

“Okay, nice! I’ll come out.” I heard several deep voices in the background. I was sure some of his teammates had parked around back. 

The front door opened. I saw Nick wave from the warm light. As I got out of my car, I figured I’d forget to set my alarm for the morning at 1am when I got back, so I quickly set my alarm for 8am before I got to the door. 

“Glad you made it!” Nick shouted and wrapped me in a bear hug, lifting me into the house. 

I laughed, “I’m glad I made it too. An hour drive isn’t so cheap anymore!” 

“That’s true. Well, we’ll have fun and it’ll all be worth it!” He led me into the living room where four guys were sitting, already a beer in each hand and a few empty on the old coffee table that looked like it had never been cleaned. “This is Shawn, my roommate, and these are all guys from the team,” he mentioned their names, but I almost immediately forgot them. Nick played on the baseball team for the school, so I was sure several other nameless boys would wander in and out of the house tonight. 

“Welcome to the pregame!” one of them lifted their can to me. I laughed in acknowledgement. “You want a drink? I’ve got a good one,” he jumped off his chair and ushered Nick and myself into the kitchen. As he concocted my drink, I kept an eye on the ingredients – don’t get drugged at a party. Rule number one, duh. 

But there was no mal-intent here. The boys chummed up conversation around me while a few other people came in the front and back door. The last ingredient, to my surprise, was a jolly rancher from a massive bag sitting on the counter. This must be a regular choice served I thought. 

“Here you go!” Obviously proud of his creation, he sat back and waited to watch my first sip.

I took one. “Oh wow. That is actually pretty good! Thanks.”

“No problem! I’ll have ‘em ready all night!” 

I shook my head, “That’s okay, I don’t plan on staying all night. So maybe one more after this, but then I’ll stick to water or something.”

“No problem. We have some water bottles and gatorades in the fridge; when you want them, just take one.” 

We stayed in the kitchen a while longer while another handful of people ebbed through our little circle. Nick and my barista asked me about school and volleyball. I offered similar questions. Soon after I looked around and realized how full the house had gotten. Then I saw the dirty fold up table going up in between the kitchen and living room. 

At about the same time, Nick shouted, “We have the next game!” I assumed he alluded to my barista as his pong partner, but he turned to me and asked, “You in?” 

Already relaxing and feeling my competitive nature take over, I was quick to respond, “For sure!”

A crowd seemed to grow in order to watch the first match. I had finished my first drink with several cups still on the table, so my barista was quick to whisk away my solo cup for a refill before it was my turn to play. Of course the rules were you can’t play without a drink in hand. 

Drink two in hand, and the losers taking their leave, I stepped up to the table end with Nick. Through the game, we joked and kept conversation about school and past memories. We paused occasionally for senseless strategizing.

We won. And won again. After the first win, I remember trying to stick to much smaller sips to avoid too many refills, but I had a personal barista it seemed and I was on at least my third cup. When we got to the fourth game, I couldn’t take any smaller of a sip, so I announced that that would be my last game either way. 

Suddenly a girl, somewhat sloppily, bumped into Nick and said, “Nick, you two are so cute together! Hi! What’s your name?”

“I’m Brittany,” I smiled back to her but Nick and I both scoffed a little, “but we’re not together. Just old friends.”

“What?!” she demanded. Dissatisfied, she retorted, “Well, you should be!”

We laughed and continued to shoot, but I felt this random girl’s comment blur into my thoughts from that point on. 

I got a water after our last game and went to sit on the coach. It seemed like the same guys who were sitting there when I arrived were still posted in the same spots. I also noticed that around the living room there were a couple small coolers placed within each of their arms’ reach. They really didn’t have to move far in order to accomplish their goals for the night. 

However, there were now some girls perched on laps and arm rests to add to the scene. They all seemed to know each other pretty well, so I just sat listening, drinking my water. Nick eventually came to join me on the coach and chime into their conversation. 

At some point, one of the original guys got up and disappeared. 

“Where’d Shawn go?” one from the group asked. 

Another voice responded, “To check on his girl.”

“Has she been here all night?” the first one asked skeptically. 

“Yeah. Guess she didn’t feel good so she’s just back in his room.”

“Ha! He won’t be out for a while. Can’t sit in a guys room all night at a party and be a prude.”

I was shocked at such a blatantly ignorant, misogynist, and classless comment. I didn’t feel like I could effectively hide my distaste in my facial expression, so I checked my phone for the time. It was only 11. I got up to go to the kitchen because I would much rather chat with my barista than this pig. 

I should have known chatting with a self proclaimed barista requires a drink in hand. I wasn’t worried though. I felt like the water was helping already. I stopped fuming after a minute or so and felt the drink calm my shoulders. 

From somewhere in the house, music percolated. It started as a soft background noise as the house “DJ” was finding the right song. Once he or she found it, the speakers blared. No matter what people were doing, there was an inevitable sway in the house now and a “dance floor” starting in the living room. 

Knowing the music was much too loud to hear the ridiculous comments from the boy I previously was avoiding, I decided it was safe to return. Of course, on my way out of the kitchen though, my barista insisted on filling my cup. 

Fully intending on setting my cup down somewhere never to pick it up again, I kept my eyes peeled for a safe location that wouldn’t get knocked over. I figured I would keep it in hand until then. 

When I got to the dance floor, I was glad to meet Nick again. As much as I like to dance, I would have lost interest quickly if I was having to fight off every handsy boy who walked by. 

I never found a spot to put my drink. Before long, it was empty again. 

Eventually, I checked my phone again. 

Midnight. 

Shoot. 

I definitely was not ready to drive home. I texted my sister. 

Hey, gonna be a bit longer. Should be back by 2. 

The music and the voices had merged together into one loud buzz in my brain. I shouted through the sound to Nick that I was going to go to the bathroom. 

I closed the door to dull the sound. A muffled quiet presided. 

I sat down and tried to think. How did the time get away from me so quickly? I wondered if they had anything to snack on. 

A loud knock interrupted me. 

“Almost done.”

“Hurry!”

I hurried and opened the door to two disheveled girls. One didn’t wait for me to exit. She joined me in the small bathroom and lunged for the tub. It was a good choice. That kind of projectile wouldn’t have likely gone well in the toilet. I decided to stay and help them. 

After we got the vomiting girl cleaned up, I stepped out to the hallway. It was a different scene altogether from what I left it. The music had faded. People were sitting on the floor, limbs in disarray. Couples on furniture either in a stumbled makeout or asleep. And the front door was left open. I went to shut it. 

There was a whole other scene transpiring outside. Instead of shutting the door, I opened it to understand. Drunk boy with keys tripping down the sidewalk. Drunkish girl following, crying. 

Oh shoot! It hit me that this guy was trying to drive home. 

“Nick!” I yelled back into the house just hoping he was close enough to hear me. I didn’t think I had time to wait on him so I stepped outside toward the two drunks. My feet didn’t work like I wanted them to and I almost toppled down the steps instead of walking. 

Great. At that point, we were just three drunks instead of just two fumbling in the front yard. 

Nick came up behind me and helped me stay upright. He wasn’t the most stable, but we somehow stabilized each other like the legs of a newborn horse. 

Nick went for the boy, and I helped the girl back inside. It took some prompting and convincing, but we finally retrieved the keys and felt that the situation had fizzled enough that there was no longer a danger of drunk driving. 

I checked my phone again. 1240. And I still didn’t feel great. I turned to Nick.

“Hey, I’m sorry, but do you care if I crash here? I’m not okay enough to go home.” As I tried to be so sensible, I felt my eyes betray me – eyelids closing unsynchronized and my head bobbing to stay awake. 

“No problem,” and he pointed me to his room. 

I texted my sister again. 

Hey, never mind. I’m just gonna stay here to be on the safe side. See you at church. 

I went to the bathroom again. The same girls I met there the first time were sprawled on the floor. I went pee, ignoring their company, then opened the mirror cabinet to look for tooth paste. I put some on my finger in a sad attempt at personal hygiene. 

I went to the kitchen to grab another water to take to bed. I didn’t see Nick, or any upright human for that matter, but I noticed that the back porch light was on, and I heard some voices. I figured some of the baseball guys were out there having one more drink. 

I went back to the room and didn’t bother turning on the light. There was enough light from the hall to simply find the bed. Without thinking, I removed my jeans, too tight to sleep comfortably in, and got under the covers. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. 

There was no telling what time Nick staggered into the room. I only woke because he tripped into the bed. I tried to ignore him and go back to sleep, but he kept rummaging in the blankets. I assumed that he couldn’t find the edge, so I threw back the sheet for him. 

His mannerism changed. He moved closer to me and touched my leg. The weirdest thing he had done all night. Maybe he wondered about the sloppy girl’s comment from early in the night too. I never thought we were more than friends, but I wasn’t sure. Especially not in the state I was in. 

I grunted, unable to formulate actual words or movement. 

He moved closer still. 

“You want to?” he slurred. 

I started getting nervous. I didn’t respond. 

He moved one of my legs. I hated that I had taken off my pants before getting into bed. I hadn’t even thought this would be a possibility. Then I faintly remembered the ignorant comment from the boy in the living room. Can’t be a prude. Surely Nick didn’t think that way. I hoped. 

I wasn’t entirely aware of what was happening past that point. I felt his hands on my legs, and I was rolled over to my back from lying on my side. A flash of the girl’s projectile vomit in the bathtub rushed through my whole body. I couldn’t get up though. My limbs were vague and my head was a fog. 

I started to panic. I grunted again, trying to iterate some kind of intelligible thought. Nothing. In fact, I was still just trying to wake up to understand what was happening. 

I suddenly felt the weight of his body. 

“No.” It wasn’t urgent, nor was it very loud, but it’s all I could muster. It wasn’t near as powerful as the whirlwind of dread, stress, and exhaustion fighting in my head. 

He didn’t hear me, or maybe he didn’t understand the unintelligible mumble that barely crept from my throat. He didn’t stop, and I was too weak from the evening to do anything about it. 

Tears burned my cheeks as I fell asleep.  

8am. My alarm went off. I jolted awake and turned off the beeping. I grabbed my things, swooshed some toothpaste, and slipped out the front door. I still felt a hint of the fruity buzz in my head and fought drowsy eyes for the entire drive to church. I remember thinking why I was even going after a night like I had had. After what happened.