The October Music, Stanza 2 - Day 19

After Party

            It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, you know. It was simple, just a Halloween house party. Lots of drinks, costumes, ridiculous decorations, loud music, and maybe a bad decision or two. We’re all young and reckless and invincible. That’s what you do when you get the freedom you need. That’s what college is for.

            Whoever was running the sound had fine-tuned it to ensure maximum bass infliction. When it was turned on, the rumble was so intense that a few plates shattered. Didn’t crack. Shattered. Then came the shots. Tequila mixed with something sweet. Tequila mixed with something sour. Tequila mixed with tequila. The world got blurry in the best way and that constant thrum of anxiety in my chest burned away with agave flame.

            She was on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. Catwoman but not the classy Julie Newmar kind. Catwoman – the slutty Halle Berry kind. Straps of leather covering strategic locations. Curves that would make a racetrack breathe hard. Black hair done up tight under a mask. And here I was, standing around and pounding shots of tequila as Batman. Fate, it seems, works overtime at parties.

            Since I had drowned my nerves in liquor, I found myself unable to prevent my legs from walking over to her. I couldn’t stop myself from growling that she had escaped prison and I needed to bring her back to justice. Her eyes – green and slightly glazed – glittered as she looked back at me and told me she would only go back if I escorted her personally. I told her I would do that and took her hand. It was soft and warm and tiny. She grinned and directed me to the hallway upstairs. This was her house, she whispered, and her bedroom was right down the hall.

             The rest of the night is nothing but a blur of masks – she demanded they stay on – and kissing and touching and sweat and screams and giggles. It was the best night of my life. I wasn’t in love but the way we connected was something magical. As I drifted to sleep, I wondered if I could see her again.

            Now it’s the next morning and I was staring at the ceiling. All the bravado the liquor provided was gone, replaced with an aching anxiety. What did I do? I needed to talk to her, needed to figure things out. She was still asleep next to me, so I reached out to wake her up when I noticed she wasn’t breathing. I shook her and there was no response.

            I turned her onto her back to perform CPR and two things made my heart stop. One, she was cold and blue. No hope. Two, I recognized the face. I would push her on the swing when she was little. I held her when her high school boyfriend dumped her. I promised I would protect her at college and now?
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            How am I going to tell our parents?