A Kind of Contradiction

Julia had been talking about her ex-boyfriend for twenty straight minutes. She’d had six beers, so I guess it was understandable that she was ranting, but I’d tuned her out nearly fifteen minutes ago. Instead I was texting Patrick, who found his sister’s drunken ramblings quite amusing. If I wanted to see Patrick and implement my plan — kiss him and get the awkwardness over with, because I was impatient and he had a nice mouth — then I’d have to wait until Julia called him to pick us up. 

Two days ago, Patrick and I went for coffee. It was sweet and nice and all the things a first date should be, but he didn’t touch me at all aside from when our fingers brushed as he handed me my latte. I was fine with no kissing on the first date, but he didn’t grab my hand or bump my knee, even on accident. By the end of the date, I was starting to think that maybe he was just nervous about the whole age gap thing.

I’d had a few beers myself, but I wasn’t really interested in getting drunk. The party I’d agreed to meet Julia at was in some guy’s house all the way on the other side of town. It was loud and crowded and everything a good house party should be, complete with people getting high in the back yard and a couple making out on the couch. Danny was here too, but I had yet to see Nash. Since Audrey had yet to make an appearance as well, I guessed they were together.

“I’m getting some air,” I said, interrupting Julia mid-sentence. Her voice faltered and she nodded, not really looking at me.

To get to the back door, I had to cut through the kitchen. I don’t know what it is about drunk people and kitchens, but they always seem to congregate there even if the alcohol is in another room. At this particular party, the keg was in the living room. But the kitchen was packed, and I had to squeeze past just to reach the door.

The night was cool, and the air would’ve been refreshing if not for the joint being passed around on the deck. I went past the circle of red-eyed teenagers and descended the steps, down onto the grass. There was a children’s swing set that I was surprised nobody was using. Swings were like candy for drunk people — irresistible. I swallowed what was left of my beer and set down the cup, then dropped onto one of the swings.

Since I was facing the deck, I saw him step out of the back door and see me on the swing set. But his face was in the dark, and I didn’t see the barest hint of a smile there until he was standing five feet in front of me.

“Well?” I asked, eyeing the flask in his left hand. “Are you going to push me or not?”

Nash chuckled, moving behind me. His hand came around and he handed me the flask, which I took a generous sip from. Then his palms were flat against my shoulder blades and he was pushing me, exerting only minimal force. This swing set wasn’t meant for anyone over the age of seven. Heat rushed through me each time Nash’s hands pressed against my back, propelling me forward. Once I had a steady rhythm going he stopped and sat down on the other swing. I soon lost the energy to keep swinging, and slowed until I was gently moving back and forth. Nash stared up at the sky and sipped his whiskey, wordlessly offering me the flask. 

"So, where's Audrey tonight?" I asked. 

"How should I know?" Nash replied, casting me a confused look. 

"You two just seem close is all," I said airily. 

Nash chuckled. "I can't stand Audrey. But she doesn't like me much either, so we have fun." 

I raised my eyebrows. "Hate sex. Classy, Nash, really." 

It was better than them having a secret love affair, but I still wasn't too impressed with his choice of girl. Nash offered me the flask again, and I took a longer swig this time. 

"Okay, so hypothetically," I began, wanting to hear Nash's opinion on my Patrick problem. "If we were on a first date, would you touch me?"

Nash spluttered on the whiskey, his eyebrows sailing upward as he stared over at me. "What?"

"Clean out your brain, man, I mean like holding hands and shit." 

"Uh, yeah, I guess," he replied. "What is this about?"

"Nothing!" I replied way too quickly, and Nash smirked. 

"Had a bad first date, did you? Steve wasn't the man you thought he was?"

I grimaced. "Ew, no. Why would I go out with Steve?" 

"Because you hooked up with him at the bonfire," Nash stated. I frowned, shaking my head. "But I saw you guys talking and then you both disappeared."

"I'm surprised you noticed at all, since you were 'having fun' with Audrey in the back of your Jeep." 

"So you didn't hook up with him then?" Nash clarified, and I nodded. "Then who did you go out with?" 

"Just this guy," I replied vaguely, figuring now wasn't the right time to tell Nash about Patrick. His age in particular. Nash wasn't too impressed with my answer, and stood up. 

"Wanna go inside?" 

"That party is lame," I said, leaning back and holding my arms out straight, hands locked around the chains of the swing. When I straightened, Nash was standing in front of me, his eyebrows knit together and a look of concentration on his face. "What?" 

"Let's go then," Nash stated, giving me a surprisingly serious look for someone who'd consumed a lot of alcohol. 

"Where?" 

"I have a sudden craving for French fries. Come on." 

Nash held out his hand to pull me off the swing, and I took it.