How to Make a Human

More Shots Later

Demetri and I found ourselves back in the kitchen, with me leaning my forehead against the stainless steel refrigerator. “I am so hot right now.”

“LOL. Yeah you are,” Demetri snorted and poured us both a shot of UV. The 151 was long gone and Demetri was taking miscellaneous drinks so that he could “maintain his healthy plateau of drunk.”

“Har har har.”

“Hey, UV!” Derek shouted, jogging towards me and tripping slightly. He gripped Demetri’s and my shoulder tightly, “How are you two doing?”

“Just chillin’!” I answered, paused and thought some more, “I totes thought you said what are you doing. You didn’t though. And we are doing fine.”

“Someone is drrrrrunk!”

I smiled goofily and pinched my fingers together, “A little biiiit.”

“Well, fuck, man, get drunker! Literally like everyone in here thinks you’re dope as fuck, you’re like the ultimate party guest!”

“Pfffft. I’m not!” I laughed.

“No, you so are. All of a sudden all the people are like, ‘where did Bobbie go?’ Like boo.”

I didn’t know what the fuck “like boo” meant, but I was down. Down for what? I don’t know that either. Using the phrase, “like boo,” I guess.

“I mingle! I’m a mingler!” I smiled brightly.

Demetri threw his arm around my shoulder, “She’s bouncing between groups of people like Tiger Woods between mistresses. Who knew she had social skills?”

Derek, Ben, and I burst out laughing. Between wheezes, we all choked out something about me being socially awkward. Nothing like bonding over my inability to naturally make friends and alcohol. Yo-ho, yo-ho, a loser’s life for me.

“Listen. I am so warm, I am going outside,” I said seriously.

Many More Shots Later

Outside there was a boy, far more drunk than me, guffawing and being pushed by his equally wasted friends. I had the remains of the bottle of UV in my hand. I took another swig, licking the sugar off my lips.

“It’s a dare! You have to!” one of the boys shouted pushing the kid towards us.

"Give me two dollars and I will let you stomp on my balls," the boy slurred, stumbling slightly. He pushed the hair out of his face like he didn’t have control of his fingers.

"What? Hell no," Demetri said, pulling on my arm.

"But Demetri!" I whined, wrenching my arm out of his grasp.

"Whuh?” he asked stupidly, turning to face me and then steadying himself because he was drunk. Less drunk than me, but drunk none the less.

"I don't want his stupid genes to be passed on. We should take care of this before the Darwin Award does."

"Tempting, but no,” he mumbled, pulling me away.

“I’ll give YOU two dollars if you cup my balls!” the man corrected.

“Me or him?” I asked before Demetri could open his mouth. The drunk boy began laughing so hard he had to stumble back to the group so they could catch him before he fell.

“What a creep,” Demetri pulled my hand and lead me to the back porch of the house, where a couple other people were relaxing away from the noise.

The Rest of the Bottle Later

I was wasted. Demetri stopped drinking because he’s not an idiot and he “knows his limits” or something. Like WTF. I didn’t give a shit. Demetri looked good. He was all nice and shit. And he had great fucking hair.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to go grab a drink,” Demetri told me, standing up.

“Why?” I whined.

“Because you’re still wasted and I want to catch up to you,” Demetri laughed. “Be right back.”

When Demetri left, another boy took his place. I vaguely remembered seeing him cruising around the group of drunk boys towards the front of the house. He was tall, tan, and had a pimply chin. He had blonde hair that was gelled up into short spikes and large muscles that had enough room for me to live in.

“Who’re you?” I slurred bluntly.

“I’m Mike,” he stuck his hand out for me to shake, “I’m from Wilson High.”

“How the tits does Derek know you?”

“Haha, from other parties I guess. And you are..?”

“Oh, I’m Bobbie,” I answered, shaking my head and looking at my feet.

“Ah, Bobbie,” he put is hand on my knee, “The girl who punched that ginger?”

“Yessss,” I droned, looking at his hand, as it snuck further up my leg.

“Where did that guy go?” Mike asked, squeezing my upper thigh gently.

I moved my thigh away slightly, “I uh, I--” I couldn’t think, “I, um, don’t really-- Could you… not?”

“What?” he asked, but his hand was no longer on my thigh, he had moved it back down to my knee.

“Oh, uh. Nothing, I guess. I was just trippin’ balls,” I replied absentmindedly. “Anyway… I think Demetri was going to come back and sit there, so…”

Mike didn’t move and I might be out of my god damn drunk mind, but I’m pretty sure his hand was back on my upper thigh.

“Well, it looks like you’ve been hanging out with him all night, how about a break? We could just talk.”

“O…kay,” I answered, uncertainly.

“So how do you like Rhode Island so far?” Mike asked politely.

“It’s very green. Lots of… trees and shrubs and plants and stuff.”

“Yeah, it pretty out here.”

“Yep,” I agreed. I looked at the trees, trying to wrap my head around the fact that Derek’ house is in the middle of the woods like a lumberjack. I glanced back to Mike’s hand. His hand had slowly crept so far up my thigh it was nearing a dangerous region. I didn’t know how to respond because… I just didn’t. I’ve never been through this nonsense sober and this was a cruel test for a drunk.

“So, do you maybe want to get out of here?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow and leaning in closely. I made eye contact for a brief moment before I felt uncomfortable again and looked back to his hand.

I stared at it for a brief second, before recognizing that this creepy motherfucker’s hand was resting on my crotch.

“You should probably… not…” I trailed off because I couldn’t find words.

“But you like this, right?” and then he squeezed lightly. I looked at his hand, then back to his smarmy grin, then back at his hand.

“WOAH. What the FUCK?” I stood up, causing Mike to spill his drink on himself.

“What the fuck?” he echoed. Demetri, who was leaving the house, watched the commotion, put his drink on a nearby picnic table and placed himself between Mike and me.

“SKEEZEY FUCKER FUCK,” I spat, uncomfortably moving behind Demetri.

“Bitch!” he muttered, trying to pat the drink off of himself.

“What the fuck just happened?” Demetri interrogated no one in particular.

“Keep your skank on a leash or something!” Mike grunted, turning to walk away.

“WHAT?” I screeched, “That creeper grabbed my crotch!”

Demetri looked like he was going to say something but was too confused to do anything but open and close his mouth. “He what?”

“I didn’t do shit. Watch her, she’s wasted.”

Demetri eyed him up and down before grabbing my shoulders, “I got her, don’t worry about it.”

“What?” I whirled around to face him.

Demetri looked apologetic, “I couldn’t even begin to fight him. He’s massive.”

Mike walked away, scratching his head.

“Hey. Hey you! Hey Limp Dick!” I shouted at him.

He finally turned around to look at me. I heard Demetri swear under his breath.

“Yeah, yeah. Limp Dick!” I mentally high fived myself for the best nickname ever. I deserved a cake. God, I want cake. “Why don’t yooou- uh, why don’t you-uh try and make your dick hard for once?”

I was so much smarter than him.

I snorted. “To get YOUR dick hard, Limp Dick, you probably need a picture of your mom or fucking Phyllis Diller or some ugly poop or something. Hahaha, Limp Dick.”

“Bobbie, let’s just leave him alone now, okay?” Demetri was touching my arms to pull me away and I think I was about to take my pants off for him. I think he would like that. I know I would like that.

“Sorry, man, she’s really wasted,” Demetri apologized while pulling me off.

“Keep her shit in line or take her the fuck home.” Limp Dick grunted.

“Funny, that’s what I did to your mom last night.” No one laughed. “I took her home.” Still no laugh. “And we, uh… we did it. I did your mom.” No laugh.

They must not get it.

A Couple Random Ass Drinks Later

Demetri was drunk again. I was drunk still. We were wasted now. It was awesome.

“That guy was creepy as fuck.” Demetri said. We were still outside, leaning against a tree.

“Right? That was weird,” I slurred. “He grabbed me!”

“I know,” Demetri breathed. I looked at his eyes, then his lips, then his eyes, then his lips. Then I was looking at nothing because we were kissing or something.

One and a Half Bad Decisions Later

It could be because I was drunk, but my hands were flying everywhere. I wasn’t accustomed to vodka, and I didn’t know that they caused my brain to drop to my pants. I suppose I wasn’t the only one, because Demetri’s hand were having a party on every location on my body and his lips were fucking everywhere. And oh how his hips drove into my hips. I was clothed, but I didn’t want to be.

Demetri’s lips were on my newfound cleavage, and I was glad I wore Bear’s super duper push-up bra, because I think it pushed all of my nerve endings to where his lips were. I was grunting like a pig in heat, but apparently Demetri liked that because the more I made weird grumbling noises, the more he opened and closed his mouth over my skin like a fish out of water. So essentially Demetri acts like a fish and I act like a pig, and while I would find this disgusting while sober, when I was drunk it was awesome.

But I guess someone who was sober did find the pig-fish grope-athon disgusting, because the next thing I knew, Demetri was yanked away from me, on the ground holding his nose. Red flowed over his hand and I heard him swear, “The fuck, man?”

And I guess Ben is a ghost because suddenly he was there opening and closing his hand like it was in pain. “I told you she’s never drank. I told you she wouldn’t be able to handle her alcohol. I told you to watch her.”

“She’s safe!” Demetri gargled, leaning his head back before he hacked up a bloody snot and spit it on the ground.

“Was that in your mouth the whole time my tongue was in there?” I asked, genuinely curious, but kind of disgusted. And I suppose Bear must be a ghost too, because I heard her bell-like laugh right before she put an arm around me and lead me to her car. I guess it’s harder to walk when you’re not making out, because all of a sudden I was stumbling like a toddler.

Bear piled me into the backseat of the car and sat next to me, allowing me to lay my head on her shoulder. “What’s going to happen to Demetri?” I burped.

“He’ll probably get his ass kicked.”

The driver’s seat door opened and Ben hopped in before slamming the door and turning the key.

“Did you kick Demetri’s ass?”

Ben shook his head, “He’s drunk.” And then he drove and I fell asleep.