Page 18 of Owen Gardner is Losing It

Chapter eight

“Wasted & Ready” - Ben Keller

Jake threw one arm around my neck and pulled me close for a half-hug, half-headlock on the porch. “You don’t look very happy to see me. Who pissed in your Cheerios?”

I wasn’t in the mood for my brother’s bullshit, so I made no attempt to hide my disgust. I let him usher me inside the cabin, where it was an entirely different atmosphere from the party gathered outside. The kitchen table was a beer pong table now, and a couple of guys were playing a raucous game of catch with one of the balls of yarn I’d seen in a basket by the recliner earlier.

Xander would have one hell of a time getting this place back in order in the morning. I was internally debating whether I still wanted to help him or not.

“Is this really how you want to spend your Friday night?” I asked, turning around to face Jake. It felt like the room was tilting to the right, and I had to clutch my brother’s arm to keep my balance.

“Bro.” Though he laughed in my face, he put one hand on my shoulder in an effort to keep me upright. “I can see you’ve been having a good time.”

“A good time? No.”

Jake gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Tell Jakey all about it, little guy.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Another punchable face. “And give me my fifty dollars back.”

“Not a chance. Already spent.” He loosened his grip on me. “But let’s get you to cheer up. Whatcha drinkin’?”

“Nothing.” I attempted to swat him away, but he grabbed my flailing arm and led me to the kegs in the kitchen.

“Where are the cups?”

“Gone,” someone I’d never seen before in my life answered. “We’re using the old people’s mugs now.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the cabinet door behind him.

Jake opened it and pulled out two mugs–one had the St. Louis arch on it, and the other one said “WORLD’S BEST GRANDMA.” I watched him fill them at one of the kegs before thrusting the grandma mug at me. “Here. Let’s me and you have a chugging contest.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Don’t be a pussy. We’ve never drank together.”

“Yeah we have, with Dad. The boat last s-summer. With Dad on the boat on the lake, we drank.” Some of those words made sense, right?

“That’s different. C’mon. Drink with me. Unless you’re scared you’re going to lose.” He nodded down at the coffee cup. “Take the damn mug.”

I had no choice but to accept it, and somebody nearby hollered, “Hey everyone, the Gardner brothers are going to have a chugging contest!”

Everyone in the kitchen area circled around us, and the room only began to tilt even more. I held the mug with two hands in fear I wouldn’t be able to raise it to my lips without spilling it.Jake’s friend, Isaac, volunteered to count for us. “Ready? One, two, three, drink!”

What could one more beer hurt, right? I started chugging, watching Jake over the top of my mug for as long as I could. His head tilted back faster than mine–no doubt he was more experienced at this than me.

Everyone was more experienced at everything than me.

I’d made it three-fourths of the way to the bottom of the mug when I heard Jake scream, “FUCK YEAH!” and a round of cheering and clapping erupted around us. He slammed his mug down on the counter.

When I pulled my mug away from my lips and tilted my head forward again, the sudden movement caused my stomach to churn. It made me want to drop to my knees, like I’d somehow have a better grip on the earth, or something. “I’m going to be sick,” I said, pivoting toward the sink–but it had been filled with ice.

Someone took the mug from me, and another set of hands gently pushed me toward the bathroom. “Here. Easy now.” Jake’s voice sounded so far away, but I could feel his hands on my back. “Christ. Where are your dumb friends?”

When we reached the bathroom, I shakily lowered myself to my knees in front of the toilet. I opened my mouth to answer Jake’s question, but it wasn’t words that spewed out. I lowered myself closer to the toilet bowl and emptied the contents of my stomach while my brother stood watch.

“I kind of feel like this is my fault,” I heard Jake murmur in between retches. There were other people just outside the door, but I was too preoccupied to notice who he was talking to or care that I had an audience.

After throwing up three or four times, I flushed the toilet, but I remained close to the bowl just in case there was more coming.Sweat was seeping out of every pore, and I was suddenly very thirsty.

I could still hear Jake talking to someone. “I’m his brother.”

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