Page 151 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

I rub the back of my neck. “Uh, okay then, Buck. You realize there are people making out all over your house, right?”

He looks confused. “I thought I locked the screen door.”

“There are people fucking in my bed.”

“Oh shit. Really? I’ll get them out.”

I grab his wrist before he bolts for the door. He’s way stronger than I am, though, so he drags me along for a few steps. “Wait!”

He comes to an abrupt halt, and I slam into him. His eyes are wide and mostly vacant. He’s so wasted. This is not good.

“How many of these people do you know?”

He shrugs. “Most of them are from my school or my hockey team.”

“And the rest of them?”

He shrugs.

“Not to be a total downer, but you realize we have to clean up this mess tomorrow, right?” And based on his inability tofocus on my face for more than two seconds, I’ll be doing the lion’s share of the work involved. Unless I throw him under the bus. That’s looking more appealing the longer I watch him do a weeble wobble impression.

“It’s cool. I’ll take care of it.” He blinks repeatedly. “Let’s get those fuckers out of your room.”

I have little confidence in his ability to put one foot in front of the other, let alone get people to stop banging in my temporary room, but I follow him across the patio, anyway.

He falls into the pool on the way. Which is not a surprise. It helps sober him up a little. He’s accosted by no fewer than four girls in the pool. He strips down to his boxer briefs. Unfortunately, they’re white, so I’m treated to the very clear outline of his peen when he drags himself out of the water.

He continues across the backyard, undeterred, apparently. Again, he’s stopped several times by girls who are very excited by his wet boxers. Eventually, by some miracle, we make it to the house. He drips all over the floor as we pass through the kitchen. He nabs an open bag of chips on the way and shoves his giant mitt in the bag, cramming a handful of chips into his face, half of which end up on the floor. When we reach the living room, there are three couples going at it on various pieces of furniture.

I don’t know what kind of high school he goes to, or whether I’m just extraordinarily sheltered, because I’ve never seen so many exhibitionist teenagers in my entire life. Although I am a Mathlete, and I did accidentally teach one of my teammates how to French kiss without using too much tongue. Because he and Abby are still dating, and I’ve heard rumors about his exceptional kissing skills, I feel justified in taking some credit for that, even if the whole situation was cringey and awkward.

“Hold this for me.” Miller, or Buck, or whatever I’m supposed to call him, hands me the bag of chips.

He cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey! No fucking on my living room furniture! Take it to the backyard.” Chips fly out of his mouth and land on the floor. He wipes his hands on his chest, smearing wet chip crumbs all over his abs and his blond fuzz.

He’s living up to the jock stereotype in spectacular fashion.

He’s a decent guy. But when all these dude-bros get together, their combined testosterone levels reduce their brain function to ten percent.

The couples break apart and hands duck out of tops and bottoms. I don’t want to contemplate too closely the bodily fluids that are currently being wiped on Sidney’s sofa. All the horny teens vacate the living room.

Buck-Miller takes the bag of chips from me, and I follow him upstairs. When we get to my temporary bedroom, he throws open the door. I’ll never be able to unsee the tangle of limbs, or the frankly disturbing act taking place on my bed.

“Is she eating his a—”

Miller-Buck’s hand comes up to cover my eyes. I’m semi-grateful, because I couldn’t look away and I honestly didn’t want to see any more of that, but my eyeballs refused to close.

“Get the fuck out!” he bellows.

There’s a flurry of motion, which I don’t see because Buck-Miller’s giant mitt blocks my view.

“Sorry, Buck,” the guy mutters as they pass, still both naked and carrying their clothes.

Buck drops his hand once they’re gone. The room smells like butt.

“I feel like just standing here will give me pinkeye.”

“You can stay in my room tonight and I’ll sleep in here,” Buck offers.

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