Twisted

I’d heard of Tyler Wilson (who hadn’t?) but never had classes with him so I wasn’t sure what to expect. Standing on his front porch, it was obvious the place was crowded and noisy, but I didn’t know the guy and wasn’t exactly invited, not by him, so was I supposed to ring the doorbell, or knock, or sneak in the back?
I rang the doorbell.
Nobody answered.
I reached out to press the button again. The door flew open and I jumped back. Tow guys hustled a third guy down the steps as fast as they could. They made it to the driveway before he started ralphing. They yelled at him for splattering their shoes.
I walked in.
“Bacchanalia” summed it up nicely; a party that smelled in equal parts cologne, beer puke, peppermints, and weed. Wilson had better pray his parents decided to relocate to Jamaica permanently, because this one was going down in the history books.
The living room was on the right. That’s where the speakers were set up. They had already blown a woofer but kept the volume cranked so that the ragged edge of the sound made the walls shake. Girls were dancing with each other and boys were loving it, dancing behind them and snapping pictures with their camera phones. I saw a bunch of the zombie gang, standing off to the side and doing their own thing, but no Sean.
On the other side of the entryway was the dining room jammed with bodies packed around a table overflowing with bags of chips and pretzels, bowls of Halloween candy, and cartons of onion dip that had been used as ashtrays. On the far side were steps that led to a sunken family room that contained mostly horizontal bodies. I hoped he wasn’t in there.
The kegs were in the kitchen. Kelsey Caine was, too, with Abigail and the other sluts. They were starting to scowl in my direction when Sean stepped out from behind the counter.
“Elise, hey!”
My zombie strolled towards me carrying two red plastic cups filled with beer. His mask was gone and he was wearing a t-shirt with his band logo on it. His hair was out of the ponytail and he grinned at me like a kid on Christmas morning.
“You’re late, y’know,” he scolded gently.
“I got lost. Having fun?”
“Hell yeah.” He handed me a cup. “Drink,” he commanded. “You need to catch up.”
I sniffed the liquid and tried not to shudder. Cow piss. I set the cup on the table.
“Want to go outside?” I asked.
“What?”
“It’s noisy!” I shouted.
The crowd around the keg chanted, “Chug! Chug! Chug!” as a guy dressed as a pirate put his mouth on the tap and pulled the handle. Sean took my hand and motioned for me to follow him.
Abigail moved quickly behind the crowd and cut off our exit. He stepped in front of me. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Get lost, whore,” I said.
She put her hand around my neck.
Oh, crap. Now I have to shove her and she’ll have to shove me, and I’ll trip and she’ll jump on me and people will scream and pour beer on us and I won’t get to kiss him.
Sean grabbed Abigail by the thumb and twisted it painfully. “She’s with me.” He grabbed my hand again and dragged me away.
I grinned at Abigail and winked.
To be honest, I had never been at a party like this. I mean, I’d been at parties, I had done a little drinking, but this was off the hook and I was off balance. Sean was totally at home. He wanted to dance, we danced- and everyone watched. Part of me wanted to kill all the other girls in the room, part of me wanted to keep them alive so they’d have to deal with the fact that he was dancing with me. Me. Elise Former Loser McCready.
He wanted to go down to the basement, so we did. He wanted to play pool, we played. He wanted to play Doom with some other guys on the PS2, we did, with his hand on my hip and my hand in his back pocket. He went up and got another beer. I didn’t get one for myself, because out of the corner of my eye I was always seeing Kelsey and Abigail, and they were not happy with the way the night was turning out for me.

---

When Sean went to the bathroom with one of his guy friends, I wandered back to the kitchen in search of real food. Hardy was pouring a cup of soda from one of the two-liters with Aaron wrapped around her like a bloodsucking leech.
Hardy was at the party, with my brother.
My brother didn’t belong here.
He belonged at home, in his bed, alone, asleep, with his arm around his stuffed dinosaur and the other under his pillow. My brain and hormones slammed into reverse, and I had to lean against a wall because the room was spinning.
Aaron looked up and pointed at me, his mouth hanging open in horror. “What are you doing here?” he shouted.
“What are you doing here?” I answered.
“I was invited.”
“Liar.”
Hardy put her hands up. “Okay, you two, that’s enough. Stop it.”
“Shut up,” Aaron and I both said.
“Take him home,” I told Hardy.
“Get over yourself,” Aaron said. “You are not going to ruin this for me.”
“Umm, guys?” Hardy asked. “Can’t we just get along? It’s a party.”
Aaron chewed his bottom lip. “You don’t tell, I won’t tell.”
“Deal.”
I leaned closer to Hardy. “Keep him out of trouble.”
“Don’t worry,” Aaron butted in. “We have other things planned.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”
Sean snuck up behind me, slid his cool hand into mine, and pulled me away. The look on Aaron’s face was totally worth it.
We danced to two more songs, then my zombie started drooping. When he led me up the stairs, I suspected we were headed for the pearly gates.
He opened the door.