Confessions

Delilah: Late August

The room has an eerie glow cast from the adjacent kitchen door as we sit in a circle around the coffee table in our dimly lit living room.

“Same as always. Tell us something, then take a shot.”

I start to pour out a shot’s worth of vodka into everyone’s cup as William speaks.

“Tell us your problems, secrets, or fears, so that we start off the year fresh and without them,” Bill continues, sounding ominous. “Say anything you want to now so there will be no bad feelings this year. We’ll take a shot for each problem and they’ll go away after tonight. So that these last two semesters before graduation will be our best.”

We lapse into silence, staring into our cliché red plastic cups.

A sudden chill runs across my skin, and I rub my arms to shake it off.

“You can be honest, because no one’s judging, because no one will mention it again unless you bring it up first, but most of all, because we’re all friends.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to get into grad school,” Melly blurts out first. “And if I do, I don’t know how I’m going to afford it.” From her, we move counter-clockwise to Michael, who wraps an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

“I don’t even know where home is anymore,” he admits. Melly rests her hand on his leg sympathetically while he gulps his down with a cough.

“I came to college so I could move out of my parents’ house,” Mike supplies. “And now I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing after graduation.”

Shot.

“All I can think about during class ever since last year is how to tell my mom that I want to drop out, and I still haven’t figured it out.” There’s Sisky’s.

“My boss keeps me busy getting him coffee and shit all day just so I can’t do any real work. I’m an intern and I’m everybody’s bitch,” Victoria states bitterly, taking hers immediately, almost before she’s even done with her sentence.

“I-I t-think Katie’s cheating on me,” Bill stammers, clumsily taking his with a grim expression and staring at the floor afterwards.

“I can’t remember the last time I was legitimately happy,” I realize. I gulp it down, and then begin pouring everyone more for the next round.

“I’m in love, and she doesn’t give a fuck,” Andy spits bitterly. “And she probably never will.”

I look at him to see he’s staring at me. He tips his cup towards me as if to say “cheers” before draining it.

I frown slightly in confusion, but don’t say anything and pour him another shot.

I can’t. Those are the rules. No asking, only telling.

It’s nights like these where I feel like I don’t really know as much about my best friends as I thought I did.

All it takes are these little confessions we make.

“My parents hate me and love my brother.”

“If I don’t find a job here after graduation, I’m going to have to move back to Australia.”

“I’m scared we’ll stop be friends after we graduate.”

“If I don’t raise my grades, I won’t graduate on time. I’m fucked.”

“I have to make a documentary for my film class, and you’re all going to be in it.”

We glance at Victoria in surprise at this news, but we can’t say anything and let William have his turn.

“After they graduate, most people go back to their parents to live off their money, even though they’ve spent the past four years partying with that money. I don’t want to be one of them.”

I swear I’ve heard some of these before, but who’s to know?

“I’m an art major, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to move back in with my parents and work at an art store for the rest of my life,” I admit, downing my fourth shot tonight.

“Same here,” Butcher agrees, taking his as well.

I’m not sure how late it is by the time we run out of things to say, or maybe we just run out of alcohol first.

Either way, no one’s sober enough to leave our apartment by the time we’re finished.

We all pathetically stumble into the bedroom.

I vaguely hear Melly’s giggling and Michael murmuring something in the top bunk after they manage to climb onto it, but I ignore it and roll my eyes.

They’re both too considerate to actually do anything while anyone else is in the room.

They stop when Sisky grumbles a polite “shut the fuck up,” and in my drunken stupor, I’m just hoping the bed won’t collapse on top of me under their combined weight.

Butcher stumbles onto the bed beside me, slinging an arm around my waist and burying his face in my pillow. Victoria sends Mike and William off with pillows for the living room couches and Sisky grabs a pillow from my bed, a blanket from Victoria’s, and settles for the floor.

The last thing I feel before falling asleep is Andy’s fingers intertwining with mine.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“I meant what I said last night. Do you want me to fail?” Victoria pouts.

“But…” I protest, already uncomfortable with her camera, even though it’s not even recording yet.

“I already told you. It’s anonymous, I’ll change the voices, I’ll blur faces, everything. No one will see it except me and my professor. And my film class.”

“Well…”

“Fifteen minutes. That’s all I’m asking for. Please, roomie?”

“Why do I have to be first?” I demand, reluctantly giving in. She grins, shaking her head and ignoring the question. She starts recording before I can protest.

“What do you think graduation is like?”

“You mean…as in how am I going to feel at graduation?”

“I mean it however you want to take it.”

I roll my eyes pointedly, hoping she got that on film.

“I think graduation is like the morning after your 21st birthday.”

“Okay. How do you mean?”

“I mean, you wake up the next morning, and the time before was a blur, or went by too fast, but you’re pretty sure you had a blast, you know? You wake up, and you’re still kinda drunk, if not hung over. You remember some of it, but the details are hazy, and you feel like maybe you should’ve paid more attention, savored it, or…something. I think that’s how graduation will be.”

“What did you remember the morning after your 21st birthday?” she asks.

I laugh.

“Not much.”