Hey Baby, Here's That Song You Wanted

It was 11:30 by the time we got there and the party was already in full swing. It was at one of the “bouncer homes”, this ring of huge-ass mansion-type houses that surrounded Portsmont. Everyone said that the reason they were built like that was to keep the “undesirables” out. But, by the looks of this party, they were doing a shitty job.

As soon as we stepped in the door Cam disappeared, probably off in search of one of the sophomore girls he hadn't fucked yet. Or the keg. No doubt he'd find both soon enough, and in a hour or two he'd be wasted and groping some chick in this dude's basement. So, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Lucas!” I heard someone yell from somewhere inside the mass of crowded bodies in front of me. I looked around, and sure enough, Seth's head appeared above all the others by the open doorway next to me. He had this big goofy grin on his face, and I couldn't help but smile myself as I pushed my way over to him.

“Hey man!” he bellowed, clobbering my shoulder with his fist. “How's it goin'?”

“It's going,” I said, shoving his shoulder in return. “Hey, so where's the shit in the place?”

Seth just looked at me for a minute, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. And that it wasn't about the beer. I stepped back a little and shoved my hands in my pockets, hoping that Seth wouldn't notice them shaking. He'd always had this way of knowing when I was lying about something, even when he's drunk. And judging by the way he almost fell over when I touched him before, I could easily assume he'd already had a few drinks.

And suddenly his eyes widened and all I could think was that he knew my secret, and he was drunk, so he was going to tell everybody. But then he raised his hand and jerked his thumb violently towards the doorway he had just come from.

“The kitchen's this way man, come on!” With that he took off into the abyss, and I was left alone. To say I was relieved would be an understatement, and part of me wanted to cry with joy, even as I held my breath and fumbled through the sweaty mob, following the back of Seth's head.

I found the rest of the guys in the kitchen, surrounding what looked like a game of beer pong-gone-chick-wrestling match, seeing as the three playing had more beer on their thank tops than in their cups and the ping-pong balls had bounced to the floor during their little slapping match. Zane, Sam and Seth were leaning against the counters, sipping on their red cups and making no attempt to stop the cat fight. It was disgusting.

I could feel the guilt seeping out from the back of my mind where I had stuffed it before we left. I shouldn't have come here, I knew that. It was New Year's Eve, the night where, as clichéd and cheesy as it sounds, I actually wanted to start fresh. But instead I was here, at some kid's house, filling up my own red cup, and joining my friends in watching the fun.

About twenty minutes had passed— the girls were long gone, passed out on the couch in the next room, and the guys had actually started a real game of beer-pong— when I felt cool fingers sliding up the back of my neck, combing through my hair. I'd already gone through several drinks, so the touch made my skin tingle, and for an idiotic second I actually thought it might be the person I wanted it to be. But my stomach floored as soon as she pressed her lips to my ear and spoke.

“Hey baby, I've been looking everywhere for you.” She slid her hand down my chest, and it was all I could do not to shove her away from me. Instead I turned to face her, and there she was, in the flesh, openly groping me as my friends gawked and hooted at us.

“Carly,” I breathed, running the hand that wasn't gripping my cup through my hair so she wouldn't hold it, and trying not to act as awkward as I felt. “There you are. I've been looking for you too.”

She smiled, her lips pursed and her eyes slightly squinted. She slid her thumb down my cheek and her eyes flickered to the guys before she started tracing my lips. “Why don't we go somewhere more private?” she purred, and I swear the guys all groaned in unison. Part of me wanted to punch them in the face for treating her like a sex toy, and the other part wanted to run away and let them have her.

But all of me wanted to get the hell out of the kitchen, where the heat of the party was making it hard to breathe. So, I wrapped one arm around Carly's waist and let her lead me out of the kitchen, flipping off the guys with the other hand as we left.

She expertly weaved through the crowd of dancing bodies and down this ridiculously long hallway before we found a staircase. That's when I noticed that she'd snagged a bottle of vodka and was swinging it by the neck. And then it really hit me what she wanted, which was obvious because we were dating, and she thought I loved her. And I swear to God I tried.

As we made our way up the stairs, we could hear the countdown start. Ten... nine... eight...seven... and then we were facing a door with a sign that read Keep the Fuck Out. I Mean It. Carly smiled at me and pushed opened the door, closing it behind us. Four... three... two...

As the party below us reached one and started cheering, Carly fell against the door, fisting the front of my shirt, and pulled me down to kiss her. And this huge wave of guilt rolled over me because these were not the lips I wanted to be tasting for the start of the new year. She smelled like stale beer and sweat and the vanilla that I usually loved. Now, it was making me sick. I didn't want this. I could've stopped it right there, too. But, I didn't.

I let Carly shove me back hard until I fell on the bed. I let her stick her tongue down my throat and her hand down my pants. I gladly threw my head back and let her pour the vodka into my mouth until the whole room was swaying.

The more I drank the number I felt. And the number I felt, the easier it became to pretend that her hair on my face was just a breeze coming through the open window. Or that her long nails clawing at the skin under my shirt was the electricity that always shot through me whenever he kissed me. Or that it was really Noah's toned chest that was pressed against mine and not Carly's breasts.

And when I closed my eyes, I could almost believe she was him.