Stampede, p.17
The First Thing About You, page 17
Driving up that ramp might have been the bravest thing I’d ever done, but for once, my wheelchair wasn’t going to hold me back. In the end, though, the board lost the battle and suffered a considerable crack right down the middle.
“Don’t worry,” Lex said, “my dad has more in the garage. I’ll put another out before you leave. Now, let’s have some fun.”
I heard Zander breathe a sigh of relief as we entered the foyer, which was between a dining room and a living room. Music poured out of the living room, playing from speakers connected to a MacBook, which was being controlled by some kid trying very hard to look like a DJ.
“Where do you want to go first?” I asked.
“I guess let’s head to the kitchen. Maybe there’s food.”
We went down a narrow hallway that led directly to the back of the house. I was careful not to run over any feet, but it was hard to get couples making out to move out of the way, so in those cases I just hoped I didn’t inflict too much pain.
“You want a potato chip?” Zander asked. He held one in front of my face.
“No, I’m kinda grossed out by everyone touching everything. Did you see Nory?”
“No, but you know what? This isn’t much of a Halloween party. There aren’t any decorations, and we’ve been here for almost a minute and I haven’t heard ‘Monster Mash.’”
“I don’t think they’re going to play ‘Monster Mash.’”
A couple of guys from the football team pushed past us to reach a keg. Jameer was with them, wearing his Louis Leakey costume—a shirt, tie, and fedora. I was probably the only person who knew who he was.
“Hey, man. Can I get you a beer?” he asked.
“No, I’m good.”
“What about your sidekick friend?”
“I’ll take a Yoo-hoo, if there’s any left,” Zander told him.
Jameer shook his head and walked away.
“Why do you always make it weird?” I asked Zander.
“What? I like Yoo-hoo. I’ve never been to a party without it. At least, not a good party.”
“How do you think they got all this alcohol, anyway?” Zander shrugged. “Do the parents buy it, or is every popular kid connected to an adult who’s a bad influence?”
“I think it just appears. Like, the parents leave, and some party god snaps his fingers, and voilà—beer.”
A few girls I recognized from the lunch table walked into the living room. The music had gotten quieter, so I thought I’d be brave and mingle. Maybe I’d find Nory in the crowd. Whatever her favorite color was, I knew it was more social than mine.
“I’m gonna wander around,” I said. “You want to come with?”
“No, I’ll stay here by the food. I’ll shine the Bat-Signal if I need you.”
Most of the furniture had been pushed against the walls to make space for dancing. There was only a single couch in the middle of the room, occupied by the girls from the lunch table. Nory was still nowhere to be found. In that moment, I’d never felt so lonely, and I really wished I hadn’t left Zander.
“Hey, Harris,” one of the girls said. She was a cheerleader; I think her name was Laila. “I never see you at parties.”
“Yeah. This is my first one ever.”
“Well, you’re so brave for coming out,” another girl said. “Especially after your accident.”
Laila gasped. “Oh, right, your accident. Are you still able to enjoy the circus?”
“Circus?” I asked. “Did someone tell you I’m in a wheelchair because of the circus?”
“Yeah. I heard about how you were at the circus with your family and you volunteered to hang from the trapeze, but you fell when the tiger walked across the tightrope.”
The rumors had gone too far. I was going to tell them the truth, I swear, but then Lex appeared.
“I see you girls have met my man Harris!” he yelled like a drunk person. “You know he’s a supergenius?”
“No, I’m not. I’m just regular smart.”
“He’s lying. But you want to know something else about him?” Lex leaned close to the girls to whisper. “He’s never been kissed.”
Laila and her friends giggled, stood up, and walked toward me.
“What are you doing? I’m fine.”
“Come on, Batman. Don’t you want to be kissed by Charlie’s Angels?” Lex asked.
Never in a million years would I have guessed that’s what the girls were dressed as, but the next thing I knew, I had girls on either side of me with their lips on my cheeks and another girl sitting on my lap. Lex snapped a picture with his phone, and then they all scattered.
I wasn’t alone for long, though. As soon as I turned to find Zander, a girl almost fell into my wheelchair, then dropped onto the floor in front of me. She laughed hysterically, clearly wasted. I was getting tired of everyone being too drunk to have a conversation with. That was the main reason I avoided parties; it didn’t make sense to me for people to get together, then become unable to speak clearly or remember what happened.
The drunk girl smiled up at me like . . . well, kind of like a psychopath. Mascara was running down her cheeks, which I assumed was part of her costume, since I’d seen her at the lunch table and her makeup always looked normal. She was wearing a short white dress and a tiara.
“I’m a sexy bride,” she said.
“I can see that. You’re really pulling it off.”
She laughed and almost fell over again, even though she was already sitting on the floor. “Are you flirting with me, Harris?”
“Nope. I don’t think so. Just pointing out that you do indeed look sexy.” The girl crawled toward me until her chin was resting on my knee. I tried not to wet my pants. “So, what’s your favorite color?”
“My favorite color? Well, right now I’m wearing pink panties.” She laughed, hiccupped, and then got very serious and drunkenly slurred, “I saw this video where a guy was paralyzed and he was dying, but before he died, he told his friends he wanted to have sex. But, like, he didn’t even know if he could have sex. So his friends brought him to Amsterdam or something and hired a prostitute to have sex with him, and he had sex, and then he died.”
“Um, I’m not sure what the point of that story is. Are you asking if I can have sex or offering me a trip to Amsterdam?”
Her dilated puppy eyes looked back at me. Then my new friend fell backward, laughing uncontrollably. Eventually, I realized she wasn’t going to stop, so I drove away.
“Bro, were you just talking to Tess Santoro?” Lex asked.
“I guess.”
“You’re on fire tonight. First Charlie’s Angels, and then slutty bride.”
“I think she’s a sexy bride.”
“Either way, dude. Keep talking to the ladies. They want you.”
I was talking, but I didn’t think any of them wanted me. And I didn’t want them. I wanted Nory.
I was getting hot in my Batman costume, so I drove toward the kitchen to see if Zander wanted to leave. Then I saw Nory. She was in the dining room playing beer pong, which was pretty shocking. I hadn’t pegged her as someone who would actually want to participate in that aspect of high school parties. Worse than that, she was with Kelvin.
Her arm was around him like we hadn’t gone to the art gallery. Like I didn’t know anything about who she was or who she wanted to be. Like we hadn’t eaten chocolate cake off the same spoon. Like she hadn’t almost kissed me.
At least I knew now. All the conversations and text messages had meant nothing. And her line about not wanting rumors about us to spread was clearly bullshit. She was okay with being seen with Kelvin, but not with me. I was used to being left behind, but this cut deeper than every other silly crush I’d ever had.
As I watched her with Kelvin, I realized something else, too: Nory Fischer’s favorite color wasn’t green or yellow or pink or purple. It was black, cold and forgetful of everything it absorbs.
All the party chatter and loud music blended together to form a mind-numbing roar, and I wanted it to stop. Back in my bedroom, I could forget about the person I would never be—that other person who could walk, take care of Nory, sweep her off her feet, and completely, freely do the things teenagers do. But I wasn’t in my bedroom. Every public place presented another chance to get crushed and humiliated by the truth.
I wanted to get Zander and leave, but Nory won if I did that, and I couldn’t let her get to me. Of course, that was easier said than done.
Just then, Lex waved me over to a couch where he was sitting with Jameer and the Charlie’s Angels.
“There’s my man!” Lex yelled. “You having a good time?”
“Pretty good, I guess.”
“Nah, man. I would say very good. You got kissed, and you’re dressed as freaking Batman. What else could you want?”
I was tempted to say Nory, but I wasn’t sure that was even true anymore.
“Can I get you a drink?” Jameer asked. “You look thirsty.”
“I’m all right. I shouldn’t drink and drive.”
Jameer laughed. “That’s a good one, bro. But if you drive off a cliff, at least you’ve got a parachute in that backpack.”
Before I could remind him that there wasn’t actually a parachute in my backpack, Tess Santoro crashed into the group like an exploding bottle of tequila. “Does somebody wanna dance with me?”
“You’re too drunk, Tess,” Lex said. “I don’t need you puking on my parents’ carpet.”
Tess waved him off and turned to the closest person—me. “How ’bout you, Harris? Sexy bride wants to dance with the Dark Knight.”
Before I could spit out the words No, thanks, a new song came on, and Tess grabbed my hand and ran toward the dance floor. I followed her, but only because she would’ve yanked my arm out of its socket if I hadn’t.
The bass thumped as Tess twisted and spun in front of me. All I could do was sort of bob my head to the beat, but I was satisfied with just feeling normal. Tess grabbed both of my hands and waved them up and down, and for a moment I understood what it was like to not be seen as disabled. I lost myself in the crappy music and Tess’s overwhelming presence.
But then the music slowed, and Tess let go. In less than a second, it was over, and she was dancing with someone who could hold on to her.
Couples around me writhed and grinded on each other while I awkwardly tried not to watch. I saw Nory and Kelvin leave the beer pong table and head toward the part of the house where I assumed the bedrooms were.
All the energy and excitement I’d felt a minute before was knocked out of me. I couldn’t bear to think about what Nory was doing at the back of the house with Kelvin. Things I would never be asked to do.
I sped toward the kitchen and found Zander hovering over a bowl of pretzels. The two bowls next to him that had been filled with chips and trail mix were empty.
“Get me a drink,” I told him.
“They don’t have any Yoo-hoo. I already checked the fridge in here and the one in the garage.”
“No, I mean beer. Get me a beer.”
Zander dropped the pretzel he was holding. “I thought we weren’t drinking.”
“I am now.”
“Well, I’m not getting you a beer. We promised your parents we wouldn’t drink.”
“Fine. I’ll ask one of my real friends.”
I drove back to the living room and found Jameer still sitting on the couch. “I’ll take that drink now.”
“Hell, yeah, bro.”
Jameer poured me a cup from a nearby keg and held it to my mouth. I chugged and immediately felt the buzz from the alcohol. Zander watched, completely mortified, from the opposite end of the room.
“Zander, come over!” I yelled. “Beer isn’t that bad. I mean, it’s gross, but not that bad.”
He rushed over to me. “Harris, what are you doing?”
“I’m experiencing a party, like we said we would.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean getting drunk.”
“Jameer, pour him a drink,” I ordered. “This loser is killing my buzz.” It was hurtful but true. I didn’t understand why Zander couldn’t let loose.
Jameer offered Zander a cup, but he rejected it. “I think we should leave.”
“Oh, man, that is so typical yellow.” The volume of my voice was getting hard to control. “You say you like to have fun, but you don’t. You’re just insecure, and God forbid someone else has the spotlight.”
“Spotlight? I’ve been eating pretzels in the kitchen. But whatever. If you want to make a fool of yourself, be my guest.”
Zander walked away, and for a moment I felt alone, but then I remembered I had other friends. “Another!” I yelled. A crowd formed to watch the disabled kid get drunk.
I sped back onto the dance floor and spun in circles because I’d told everyone I could break-dance, and I guess in my drunken state, I thought doing donuts looked like I was spinning on my head. In my defense, I’d been told I had good rhythm.
At some point, I blacked out.
WHEN I WOKE UP, my face was in a bucket filled with puke.
One of the strangest feelings is the relative euphoria after a good puke session. You’re exhausted, but you feel infinitely better than you did even just a few seconds earlier. I glanced up and saw someone who looked a lot like Miranda holding the bucket with one hand and my head with the other. We were outside, and the autumn breeze felt good against my clammy skin.
“What the hell happened?” I asked.
“You went berserk. That’s what happened,” Zander said. He was anxiously pacing behind Miranda.
“Well, how did I get here? Where am I?” I could barely speak. Every word burned my throat.
“We’re in my backyard,” Miranda said.
And then it hit me. She wasn’t just a drunk illusion. She was really there.
“You fucking called Miranda?” I asked Zander.
“What else was I supposed to do? You were out of control and could barely drive your chair. Miranda was the only adult I knew who wouldn’t kill you.”
“Okay, let’s all just chill for a sec,” Miranda said.
Another wave of vomit came rushing out of me. I was angry and confused and honestly a little scared that a good portion of my memory of the night was gone. I’d become every cliché of every person who ever partied. I was everything I’d never wanted to be, and I had no idea if Nory had pushed me over the edge or if I’d somehow been trying to relate to Miranda’s wild side.
“You know what? I’m out of here,” Zander said. “I don’t even know why I helped you after you ridiculed me in front of everyone at the party.”
“You’re just jealous because I have friends and you don’t.” I didn’t know if I believed that, but my intoxicated brain did.
“Oh, really? You have friends?” Zander yelled. “All your so-called new friends would’ve let you sit in a pile of your own vomit!”
“Just get out of here!” I screamed, and Zander stormed off, not looking back.
I didn’t need another person in my life who liked the color yellow. My mom was more than enough. And honestly, Zander had said he liked yellow and acted outgoing and friendly, but really he was just as scared as me. I couldn’t deal with the contradiction.
A migraine pounded harder in my head with each passing second. I was too tired to move or think or regret anything I’d said. But I was able to notice the full moon glowing on Miranda’s skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said.
“Thanks. I look a lot better when I’m not covered in your vomit. I guess you had a fun night.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I always lost a friend after a fun night.” I was too drunk to understand what she meant by that.
“Don’t hate me. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not your mom, dude. You’ll have to answer to her later. I’m just trying to sober you up a little.”
“How did I get here if I couldn’t drive?” I asked. Another dry heave. I just wanted to die.
“I drove your chair down the sidewalk,” Miranda said. “The entire way over here, you sang ‘Monster Mash.’”
More vomit. The bucket was almost full. “How long have I been puking my guts out?”
“About twenty minutes. What the hell did you drink?” Miranda asked.
“A few beers. I didn’t really want to, but Nory ditched me, and then I saw her with Kelvin, and she acted like we weren’t even friends.”
I threw my head back against my headrest. My mouth tasted like fermentation.
Before driving my chair and me the rest of the way to my house, Miranda took off my costume and put a clean sweatshirt on me. I caught glimpses of her under the spooky sky. She was in control.
“I love you,” I slurred.
MIRANDA TRIED TO SNEAK ME INTO MY HOUSE, but she forgot that I wasn’t a normal teenager. My parents weren’t asleep. They were awake and waiting for me, because I needed them to get me in my bed and do my nighttime routine.
“What’s wrong with him?” my mom asked. I was slumped over in my wheelchair.
Miranda tried to break the news as gracefully as possible. “Harris had a little too much to drink.”
My mom gasped. The sound woke me right up and made me want to be anywhere in the world but there. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Harris, what the fuck were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry” were the only words I could mutter. I couldn’t even look at my parents. “I’m sorry.”
“How’d you get him home?” my dad asked Miranda. He was still calm, knowing nothing he could say or yell would change anything. “We didn’t think you were going to the party with Harris.”
“I didn’t, but Zander called me when Harris couldn’t drive.”
“Well, that was smart of him,” my mom said. “At least someone was using his brain.”
My dad walked Miranda to the door. “Thanks for your help. We appreciate it.”
Mom escorted me into my bedroom, and I braced for a lecture. “Who even gave you alcohol?”
“Jameer. He’s on the football team. He’s my friend.”
She sighed. “I still don’t know why you switched lunch tables. What was so bad about sitting with Zander?”
