Page 36 of Life of the Party

“One, two, three…go!”

Quickly, without looking, breathing or smelling, I flipped up my shot glass and forced down the strong, pungent tequila in one gulp. It burned all the way down.

“Woooooh!” Charlie screamed, filling up our shot glasses again.

I giggled and clutched the counter for support. After convincing my mom that Charlie and I would spend a quiet night in front of a chick flick or two, my friend had picked me up—half-cut already—and we’d been drinking tequila ever since.

We were alone at her house; she’d told Zack specifically it was girls only tonight. Charlie was still fairly dressed up from work, she wore some tight black capris and a red low-cut blouse. I felt kind of plain compared to her, in my jeans and white Deftone’s t-shirt. But I was comfortable.

And I was drunk.

“Hit this, bitch.” She pointed to the shot and clambered up onto the counter, far less than gracefully. I laughed, throwing my head back.

“Okay, but then a break.” I was only partially aware I couldn’t speak coherently.

“One, two…go!”

This shot burned less than the one before it, even less than its predecessors. I barely sucked the lime over my numb lips.

“K, k enough, enough.” I waved my arm wildly at her. My limbs didn’t seem to be connected to my body anymore. The room wavered dizzily. I grabbed a smoke and stumbled my way to the couch, flopping onto it heavily.

“You can’t hold your liquor.” Charlie accused. She laughed from her perch on top of the counter and poured herself another shot.

“Can too.” I stared blearily at the TV screen. Noise was definitely coming from the box but I couldn’t make out the picture. I lit my cigarette after a few unsuccessful tries and smoked quietly a moment, a bizarre perma-grin plastered to my face.

“Wooooh!” Charlie exclaimed again. I heard her glass strike the counter and smiled, even though I was already smiling.

“One day, maybe you’ll be able to out-drink me…maybe…” Charlie’s voice floated to me from somewhere, but I couldn’t really hear her anymore. I wasn’t paying attention. The room started to spin. My lips went numb. My mouth started to sweat.

“Charlie…” I groaned.

She ran to me at the same time I pushed myself off the couch. Her hands grasped me around the waist and she ushered me towards the bathroom as quickly as possible, but I knew I wasn’t going to make it. Just as we reached the door, I threw up.

“Dammit, Mackenzie. Get up.” Charlie yanked me over to the toilet by my armpits, just in time for me to retch again. My entire body heaved. My nose burned. I could feel tears squeezing from my eyes.

“Damn, girl. When did you last eat something? It’s like, entirely clear.”

“Dunno…,” I mumbled. I spit into the toilet and experimented with opening my eyes. The room had stopped spinning. The floor in the bathroom was cold; it felt nice. I blinked stupidly into the bowl for a minute, then lifted my head and rested it on the seat. Charlie flushed the toilet.

“Better?” Charlie asked, standing over me, grinning. She was holding my hair, smoothing it back with her hand.

“I think so.” I nodded.

“Can you get up?”

“I’ll try.” Already I felt better. Less sick, but still drunk. Weakly, I pushed myself up off the floor, using Charlie’s hands to help me.

“You got it all over you.” She laughed, undoing my jeans, pulling them off, manipulating my slack arms to remove my shirt. “Go to the kitchen and get some crackers or something to eat. I’ll find you something to wear and deal with…these.” She held my soiled clothes far away from her body and made a face. I giggled.

“Okay. Okay. Thanks, Charlie, my love…” I leaned against the wall for support, laughing, and made my way to the kitchen. I felt great again, happy, not so dizzy.

“One shot…hey! More tequila!” I sang to myself, giggling as I opened and slammed Charlie’s cupboards, looking for crackers. “Two shots…hey, hey!” I did a little spin, grabbed a cigarette, lit it, and blew the smoke at the overhead light, still dancing. “Three shots, hey—”

Holy shit. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared, my jaw open in horror, my cheeks flaming a sudden, alarming red. I covered my mouth with my hand.

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, my voice barely a squeak, full of embarrassment.

“A few minutes.” Grey cleared his throat and smirked sexily at me. He had a large blue Tool hoodie on—it brought out the blue of his eyes. His hair was hidden beneath a black hat. “Long enough to see the show. And you think I’m talented.”

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