Amor Vicissitudine

The air in the club was hot and thick as lights flashed over the dance floor, illuminating the brick walls and ceiling in bright pinks and blues.

My drink sloshed inside the cup I was holding as I ground up on some guy I found. I was too young to drink but I'd sweet talked the bartender into getting me free drinks for the night and I was making the most of it, my head already feeling the tickle of alcohol.

I laughed as the guy behind me put his hands on my hips as they moved fluidly to the rhythm of the dance remix of Pitbull's Rain Over Me. I hadn't laughed like that or actually had fun since a few months ago before my ex broke up with me.

The guy’s hands slipped from my hips up my back and onto my shoulders. They traveled down my arms, his fingers playing over my tanned skin softly, and he laced them into my own fingers,

“Let’s ditch this place.” His voice was barely over speaking as his lips brushed my ear.

Hadn’t felt that in a while.

He pulled me from our place at the center of the dancer floor and dragged me out of the club by my hand, me stumbling, drunkenly, behind him.

As we moved from the club’s entrance I decided to take my shoes off and walk barefoot to wherever my little friend was dragging me.

We stumbled away from the club, me barely dangling on the guy’s arm and him holding me up by my waist. Needless to say I was wasted like I had an iron liver. I wasn’t too sure about my buddy though.

He seemed like he’d been plenty drunk earlier but now he seemed like he’d barely had anything to drink at all.

We moved, slowly, from the club to a nearby beach, him holding me up the entire time and both of us laughing at absolutely nothing.

When we reached the beach it was dark and quiet, save for the lights of the lifeguard towers and bathrooms and the soft rolling of the salt water waves against the soft golden, brown sand.

The guy pushed me toward the beach, his arm holding me up as we went. We stumbled into the sand and he turned me so his arms were wrapped around my waist.

He was taller than me. Not by much but he was still taller. And his hair was dark and long, falling just past his shoulders and he was wearing glasses, they were black and square shaped and had thicker rims.

Geek chic.

I wrapped my arms over his shoulders and leaned my chest into his,

“I’m gonn- hic- gonna show you the best night –hic- o-of your life.” I was barely able to stutter together an entire sentence through my hiccups.

Don’t do it Sicily. Don’t you fucking do it.

Every fiber of my being was telling me to not tackle this guy to the ground and fuck him senseless on the sand but my lips said yes.

Before I could stop myself my lips were pressed, roughly up against my friend’s and he was beginning to fall backward onto a sand dune behind himself.

When we hit the sand my friend kissed me back, letting his hands slip up my back and onto my neck, holding my lips against his.

His tongue slipped into my mouth and began playing with my own, the muscular organ wrestling with my own.

Fuck I hadn’t kissed someone like this is a while.

My hands slid from his waist up to his neck and slipped into his hair.

It was soft, like his lips.

The harder he kissed me the more I tasted the tequila on his breath and the more he really seemed like he’d be fucking me tonight.

Happy Cinco de Mayo to me.

As he kissed me his hand slipped under the hem of my purple and black cocktail dress and began running up my leg and onto my butt.

Hadn’t made-out in a bush in a while either.

But, before we could get any further the amount of alcohol I’d had caught up to me.

I pushed myself off of my make out partner and whipped my head around, looking for a safe place to let it all go.

I scooted to a bush nearby and biffed in it, the hot, smelly, sticky liquid flowed from my body a little bit more naturally than I would have liked it to,

“You okay, cutie?” My make-out partner stood up next to me and held my hair behind my head.

I nodded and stood, thinking I had finished and began walking back to the parking lot.

Now the world really was spinning.

If you think walking while drunk is hard try walking while drunk and having recently vomited.

I really didn’t like this. No more alcohol for me for a while.

More of the bile came up from my stomach, splattering in the bush and making it shake slightly,

“C’mere sweet thing.” As I stopped I found the guy grabbing my shoulders under his arm and pulling me toward the nearby parking lot, “Let’s get you home.”

My truck,

“I need to get my…” My voice trailed off as we moved toward what looked like a black Impala.

But then again, every car that wasn’t my truck looked like a little black sports car.

As we approached the small sports car my friend rubbed his thumb over my shoulder and held me tightly, helping me stay on my feet,

“I’ll be dead if I don’t…” Again I couldn’t finish my sentence as we moved.

The guy just laughed at me and pulled me closer to the Impala,

“Don’t worry I can bring you back in the morning to get your car.” He chuckled and took me to the passenger’s side, helping me get in before shutting the door.

As he did I noticed his phone go off and after he shut the door he answered it, holding the iPhone to his ear and talking as he walked around to the driver’s side,

“No Jaime, I don’t know where she is.” There was a pause as he got in and shut the door, “No I’m not in the club I’m going home.”

I knew someone named Jaime,

“That’s my brother’s name.” I spoke quietly, staring down at my feet, “Jaime.” I chuckled.

It sounded so silly.

My guy friend laughed at me and started the car, rolling both the windows down before pulling out of the parking lot and going toward the North Park area.

The drive was short but it was long enough to where I started to pass out half way through.

And when we did stop it was at the foot of a small apartment building’s stairs. My friend pulled me up the steps and into the apartment and from there he let me go into what I suspected to be his room.

It was like my big brother’s room. Guitars in the corner, clothes on the floor, and the only thing that even remotely resembled a bed, was a mattress under the single window with black dressings on it.

I stumbled into the room and let my body flop down on the bed.

It was surprisingly comfortable for a lone mattress.

The buzz from the tequila I’d had to drink was beginning to be replaced by the headache leftover from the shots of vodka I’d taken,

“Someone feeling the effects of ‘La Tequila Blanca’?” He used a quote from, literally, the most Mexican song I’d heard in a while,

“Mhm.” My voice was a soft mumble as I nodded my head.

This elicited a soft chuckle from the guy as he laid down next to me.

Normally I’d get up and move somewhere else but fuck, that would mean moving and this bed was way too comfortable for that.

I didn’t even know this guy’s name.

Oh well to late now.

I’d already begun to drift into sleep, letting the darkness consume my body as my mind began going blank.

And then, as suddenly as it could have ever happened.

I fell asleep, laying next to some random guy I found at a club whose name I’d never learned.

Goodnight Moon.