Page 23 of Strange Love

“Wait, your brother’s okay with us crashing his party?”

Taz laughs, “I didn’t really ask, but who cares?”

“Yeah, OK. Sounds cool,” I tell him. Taz only lives a few blocks from me, so I can walk over later. “I’ll come over in an hour or so.”

A little bit later, I walk through the front door, greeted by the smell of sweat, alcohol, and marijuana. Van Halen’s “Jump” blasts from the massive stereo system. Drunk and stoned upperclassmen from school stumble around, their voices loud and wild.

In the corner by the stereo, a group of girls are dancing, wearing only bikini tops and jean skirts, their limbs flailing wildly to the music. I find it hard to tear my attention away when Taz calls out my name from the kitchen. I push through the throng of people and join him in the kitchen as he hands me a clear plastic cup filled with a red liquid.

Holding the cup up to the dim light, watching the liquid slosh around inside, I ask, “What’s this?”

“Jungle juice,” he grins mischievously. “My brother’s famous recipe.”

“What’s in it?” I inquire, curious but somewhat apprehensive.

“Just some juice and Everclear,” he answers with a shrug.

“What the hell is Everclear?” I question further, not wanting to appear naive but far less willing to drink something I’ve never heard of.

“It’s basically straight alcohol,” he explains with a smirk. “Might as well be drinking gasoline. It’s gnarly, but you’ll get a hard-core buzz.”

I take a hesitant sip, expecting it to taste disgusting based on his description, but instead, it’s surprisingly sweet and goes down easily. I turn back to the girls dancing in the living room, hoping to catch another glimpse, but they’ve already dispersed into the crowd.

A few of my teammates are scattered throughout the house, and we congregate in the kitchen. A short brunette approaches me, her tight dress showing off her curves. I’ve seen her around school before but don’t know her name.

“Hey there, Cutie,” she says with a flirtatious smile when she reaches me.

I lean casually against the counter. “Hey,” I reply with a grin.

“You’re a Sophomore, right?” she asks, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

My first instinct is to lie. If she finds out my age, she might bolt. But my friends are standing here watching this interaction and will call me out if I try it. “Yeah,” I confirm with a nod. “How’d you know?”

“I’ve been keeping my eye out for new faces,” she says, leaning closer to me, her dark, curly hair bouncing around her shoulders as she speaks. “I’m a Senior. My name is Nicole.”

My friends make crude jokes and smirk behind me, but she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “Do you wanna get out of here and chat somewhere?” she asks, her brown eyes sparkling mischievously.

Grinning back at her, I flip off my friends before taking her hand and following her upstairs to Taz’s bedroom.

Her lips are soft and taste like cherry Chapstick as she presses them against mine. I feel a surge of excitement and nervousness since this is the furthest I’ve gone with a girl. But between kissing and hands roaming, she won’t stop talking about stuff I couldn’t care less about. The chatter about materialistic things drains me as she rambles on about the new car she wants, the latest sweater from the mall, and girls she doesn’t get along with on the cheer squad.

The final straw is when she brings up her ex-boyfriend, his name dripping from her lips like venom as they kiss my own. Talk about a mood killer. I’d rather be at home instead, lost in fantasies, as I stare at the poster of Heather Locklear on my wall.

I’m about to get up and leave when she descends my body with a purpose, her mouth finding something to do other than talk incessantly. The only sounds now are wet, sucking noises, and suddenly there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

My friends pestered me for details about that night for weeks, but I refused to give them anything. I preferred to keep what happened behind closed doors, but Nicole had other plans. She took every opportunity to share her version of events with whoever would listen, and my popularity shot through the roof.

As a hockey player, it wasn’t hard for me to attract attention from girls, but after that night, they seemed even more enamored. It boosted my ego and social status, and I shamelessly basked in the attention and admiration from all angles for a while.

Chapter 15

“Walk This Way”

Ivy - Age 18, 1988

“So I’m assuming by now we’ve all read the book we will be working on?” Mr. Payton says with an expectant look on his face. As his words hang in the air, I glance around the classroom and notice that most of my classmates are avoiding eye contact with our teacher. I can feel a sense of unspoken panic growing in the room as he reminds us about the upcoming project deadline. My own thoughts drift to my notes, where I’ve meticulously planned out my portion of the project, only to realize that the lack of communication from my group members hinders my progress.

“This project is due in less than three weeks. I suggest you all figure out how to budget your time to complete it.”