More New Year's to (Sorta) Remember
The first time I got drunk was New Year's of my junior year in high school. I had been drinking before that - Everclear in the parking lot, wine coolers at the house party, but that New Year's I got ddddRUNK.Me and the girls - well, two of them anyway - gathered with the rest of the crew at Chris's dad's trailer. Dad was gone; the liquor was present. I don't remember a hell of a lot, outside of shooting daggers at 'the freshman,' the girl my crush was crushing on. I crawled around on the floor a lot, shushing the plants, since one of the girl's boyfriends was already passed out in the back. Quiet, please!
Chris's dad showed up at some point, and before he started chasing Chris around with a frying pan, he skeeved us out by brushing one of the girls hair and exclaiming over how pretty it was.
We left soon after and went to the local Perkins. I tried repeatedly to pour myself water, missing the glass at least four times before my crush lent me a hand. After we sobered up a bit, my girl J and I went to her boyfriend's mom's house. I snoozed on the sofa almost immediately; they were nice enough to cover me and shoo the dog away.
When we all woke up in the am, I joined them on his bed. Unfortunately, his room was lined with empty liquor bottles - not the best atmosphere. Still, I made it through without any recap of my stomach's contents.
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I wasn't that lucky on New Year's my senior year in high school. Two of our older guy friends owned a house out in the serious boondocks. I don't know what I drank, but I do know I was drunk enough to land some serious kisses on my crush, my girl L's step-brother. He wasn't interested or that amused, but everyone else was. Ah, liquid encouragement.
I also kissed Roy, a serious badass who had caused trouble with my girl N before I got in the state. However, Roy was never anything but charming and sweet to me, which caused N some disbelief and some words of warning to me. He and I talked a bit of smack and then smacked a bit of lip.
There was also a third guy I kissed that night; it may have been Z, who's older brother owned the house. He came in to check on me once I had to lie down, and found great amusement in the fact that the room was spinning on me. He was, however, a good friend of mine, and made sure I was comfy and covered.
After the party broke up, J and I went back to her house, where we crashed. Mom picked me up in the morning for church, the only condition of letting me stay at J's the night before. She had asked me what we would be doing and thought we were up to something, but luckily I was able to convince her otherwise.
Until, of course, the middle of mass, where I started to not feel so well. I made it to the bathroom before puking my guts out. Those cold tile walls felt so good on my face. Mom, however, was not as impressed.
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Last night? Well, last night I was in bed about 11:30 and read fairy tales for about an hour. Happy New Year, indeed.
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