Ruin Everything

Becca answered her phone on the second ring, “This had better be important, Cassara Adalae Jankowski!”

“What exactly were you doing that you sound so grumpy?” I asked, opening my closet doors and scanning through, looking for something to wear.

“I was napping,” she growled.

“Becca, you don’t nap.”

“I’m sick, okay? I’m allowed to nap.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” I cooed.

“Shut up. Why did you call?”

“I want to go to a party,” I said.

“What? You, Cassara no-fun Jankowski, want to party? That’s unheard of,” Becca laughed.

“Laugh it up, Typhoid. But I’m a woman on a mission, and that mission is to get ungodly drunk and felt up by drunken football players and nothing is going to stop me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I know you’ve come down with the skip-out-on-family-dinner flu, but would you and Thomas like to go with me to a typical drunken high school party, before we are no longer in high school?”

“It’s not the skip-out-on-family-dinner flu, jackass. It’s an actual sickness. I think I have mononucleosis.”

“You don’t even know what mononucleosis is, Rebecca.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Oh, really? What is it then?”

“It’s a disease,” she stated. I laughed and finally gave up looking through my closet. I sank onto my bed with my phone to my ear.

“It’s mono, Becca. Mononucleosis is mono. It’s a viral infection you get through kissing, mostly.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely mononucleosis then.”

“Have you seen Thomas recently?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Becca, I don’t mean to sound judgmental because I know you hate that…. But you know cheating is wrong, right?”

“Yes, Cassara, I’m aware the immorality of my actions. I just, Thomas and I haven’t been doing great recently. He, well, he hasn’t called me and every time I try to text him, he doesn’t respond. I think we might be breaking up,” she whimpered.

“All the more reason to go out and party with me, then,” I responded, and then added, “Besides, I need your closet. There’s nothing appealing in my own today.”

She sighed.

“I see how it is. You only need me when you want to look sexy.”

“I need you because you’re my best friend and I’d be lost without you,” I corrected her. I heard the faint laugh from her end.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. Come on over and we’ll get ready together. There’s a party at that junior who lives in the mini-mansion, Cameron Tarver’s tonight, since his parents left for their second honeymoon or something. I don’t know. I don’t see why you would need a second honeymoon. Adults are just weird as fuck,” she said, and I agreed. I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to be married and have a honeymoon, let alone a second one. Maybe if I found the right guy, some day. I hated myself when my mind flickered to Alex briefly. That wasn’t allowed. Alex and I weren’t allowed. Alex and I weren’t supposed to be anything, and that nothing could never be something like marriage.

-&-

An hour later, we were ready to go. Becca had dressed me in one of her many unworn dresses, exposing most of my pale legs to the world. I stood beside Becca, inspecting ourselves in the wall mirror her mom has in her bathroom. While my dress was dark blue with wide straps and a layer of sheer material that fell down my legs longer than the skirt, Becca’s was shockingly pink with no straps and practically no skirt. She raised herself up a few inches with ridiculous Stiletto heels, while I chose a pair of her combat boots from her “rebel phase” about two years ago.

“Goddamn, we look hot,” she admired, turning in circles to check out certain aspects of her outfit, starting with her ass. She’d thankfully done my make up for me, although I was perfectly capable of doing so by myself. She had a way with a make-up brush that just made me look so gorgeous. I would hire her as my own personal make-up assistant, and I’ve told her as much before. I’ve also informed her that she should go into make-up as a career, like as a make-up artist to the stars or something. She laughed, and shook her head but said nothing. I hadn’t brought it up since.

“You did good,” I admitted, playing with the tips of my hair.

“We’re ready, I think. Are you really ready to party tonight, Cassara Adalae?” she asked, her fiery hair curled gently around her strangely bright face. She was actually sick, that she wasn’t lying about. She had a pretty bad cold, but she somehow managed to look absolutely stunning.

“I am ready, Rebecca Lynn!”

She practically dragged me out of the house without another word. We chatted lazily as she drove us deeper and deeper into the end of town known as Snob Knob Hill. The party was held at, just as Becca had said, a mini mansion that was triple the size of the largest apartment complex Mom and I had ever lived in. Teenagers, most of whom I didn’t recognize, filled the entire first floor and spilled into the expansive, well-trimmed lawn. It was only eight o’clock and this party was in full swing.

“From what I can tell,” Becca says as we park behind an old rusty Honda Civic, “this party has been going on since last night.”

“That’s insane,” I said, unbuckling and stepping out of her oversized truck, my skirt flying up a bit as I jumped down. Becca landed gracefully on her side and quickly rounded the cab, locking the truck behind her.

“You wanted a party, Miss Jankowski-Barakat, you get a party,” she replied with a mischievous nudge. Putting on a false confidence, I marched alongside my best friend and into Cameron Tarver’s crowded mini mansion. Not five minutes later, I lost Becca into the crowd.

I pushed my way to the kitchen where, stereotypically, the keg and liquor were set up. There was a couple already going at it in the corner, his hand up her shirt while she moaned almost as loudly as the music. There were three jocks from the town over, slamming back half full cups of weak beer and a hoard of girls that surrounded them, fawning like they were gods. It disgusted me just how weak-minded some girls my age were. They’d follow anyone with a six pack and a tan in hopes that he’d look their way for a second.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?” a voice asked from behind me. I turned and found a tall, well-built guy my age with thick dark brown hair and big blue eyes. He was dressed in a button down grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of dark, well-fitting jeans. He was damn sexy too, towering over me at just the perfect height and staring at me with those bright blue eyes.

“Yeah, just a bit. If it weren’t for my insane cabin fever, I wouldn’t even be here. But, here I am. I’m Cassara,” I introduced with a smile.

“I know. I’m Noland, I’m in your English 12 class with Burcrof,” he explained. I stared at him.

“No, no way. I’d remember you,” I replied.

“No, I’m definitely in your class. I sit at the back, with Ashley and Crosby but you, you sit between Maya and Adam, who constantly make eyes at one another while you’re taking notes. Last week, when Adam fell asleep while we were watching A Raisin in the Sun, you threw tiny wads of paper into his hair.”

I stared at him.

“I’m not sure if I’m flattered, or creeped out by how much you seem to know about me.”

“Oh, you’re famous, Cassara,” he continued, moving to the island and settling himself against the small open counter edge, grabbing two identical red cups and beginning to fill them. “You’re the star midfielder of our girls’ soccer team and you’re the main reason we’re going to the championship next month. You’re not the best student, but you try hard and your teachers love you. We’ve also been in nearly every class together for the past three years and you’ve never once looked at me. Are you creeped out yet?”

“Definitely getting there,” I said as he finished pouring suspicious orange liquid into both cups. “What, what is that?”

“This, Miss Cassara, is party punch, cremesicle flavored, I believe. It’s Cameron’s favorite,” Noland explained.

“You know Cameron?” I asked, hesitantly taking the cup he offered and sniffing at it.

“Of course! We’ve been friends since birth, practically. He’s my best friend, even if he throws these stupid parties. He does it to impress his girlfriend, because she’s a party animal and he just likes to make her happy. He’d prefer it to just sit and watch a football game for the night with a few friends. Anyway, I’m just here for moral support. What are you doing here? Captain of the soccer team, sister of Baltimore’s own Jack Barakat, you never come to parties.”

“How do you even know about Jack? You’re definitely creeping me out now, sir.”

He chuckled and continued, raising his voice slightly as the music did, “I like to observe the world and what I’ve noticed is that lots of girls envy you, because you get an all-access pass to their favorite band. Sit back some time, with your back against a wall so you have a full view of the room, and just watch, listen. You’ll hear everything there is to hear.”

I stared at him for a moment, taking a tentative sip of the punch. It was good, hardly tasted like alcohol. That was the worst kind of drink for me. I’d learned from experience with Becca that if a drink didn’t taste of alcohol, I drank a lot more of it than if it did taste of alcohol. Most of the time, when I drank, I’d quit after two drinks. But when I drink girly, sweet drinks, I drink more than my share and tend to get hammered quickly.

“So, who are you, Noland?”

“What do you mean?” he replied.

“I mean, you seem to know a lot about me… but I know nothing about you. Who are you?”

“I’m just a guy,” he answered. “I have two younger half-brothers, both in primary school, and one older sister, goes to college in Florida. I have a best friend, Cameron, and three ex-girlfriends, Tara, Miley and Kira. I like comic books and Doctor Who, and listening to the chatter of dramatic, self-important teenage girls.”

He smiled after that, and something about that smile assured me that everything was fine, that he was trustworthy.

“Do you want to go find some place quiet?” I asked, gesturing towards the staircase.

“Are you sure? I could be a rapist,” he replied.

“I’m a soccer player, Noland. You try anything and I will kick you so hard in the balls that they come out of your mouth. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds painful,” he replied, filling up our cups quickly before we wandered upstairs, past couples pressed into corners like that would hide them from the eyes of others and drunk frat boy wannabes that were daring each other to do keg stands and chug a bottle of Jack Daniels. There were at least two girls sobbing on the stairs while their friends huddled around as support and one couple practically dry humping against a door. Noland led me up a flight of stairs hidden by a door at the end of a massive hall and into an attic bedroom.

“This is Cameron’s room. He lets me stay here whenever he throws a party like this, to get away from everyone. He should be by soon. He always is to check on me,” he said.

“He sounds like a good friend,” I replied, sinking onto a king-sized four-poster bed covered in a dark blue bedspread made out of satin and silk. “God, I wish I had a bed like this!”

“It’s not a bad way to live,” he agreed, falling into the mattress beside me. I took a drink of my punch and looked around. The room was lit by a single floor lamp in the corner of the room, casting eerie shadows over everything.

“How’d you meet Cameron, anyway?”

“My mom and his dad are like brother and sister, they grew up together too. Mom introduced me to him the week after I was born. I had no choice. We’re as close as brothers. Speaking of friends, how is Becca?”

“Oh, she’s…. concerning, actually. Does Cameron ever worry you? Like, you’re genuinely scared for his safety?”

“No, but I see where you’re coming from. I’ve met Becca a couple times. She’s a handful and a half, definitely.”

“We’ve only been friends for a couple of years, since I moved to Baltimore, but she’s the best friend I’ve never really had before. She’s a bit much and her morality is worrisome but she’s my friend and she’s all I got.”

“That’s really touching, considering it’s about Becca, the party queen of the century.”

I laughed and tossed back the rest of my drink. I could feel the alcohol buzzing in my head, in my fingers and my toes, coursing through my veins and weighing down my tongue. I rested my head against Noland’s shoulder and just let my body relax. I came here to party, and I was going to party, just in a different way than anticipated.