Just One of the Boys

Something was buzzing. It was buzzing, and I wanted to kill it. Sunlight burned my eyelids, and my head was pounding. Something was still buzzing. Growling, I reached around, my hand flopping against wood and damp cloth. Finding my bag, I dragged it towards me and, eyes still closed, managed to recover my phone.

“What do you want?” I rasped.

“Holly? Where the fuck are you?” Zack’s voice came screaming into my ear and I winced. I dug my head harder against whatever my head was resting against. It was warm, soft, and—moving? Opening my eyes, I shot up, cursing under my breath as it caused my stomach to roll and my eyes to water. My cheek had been stuck to Alex’s chest, so when I pulled away it stung slightly. My back, legs, arms, and half of my face stung, alerting me that I had mild sunburn. Luckily for me, it’d turn into a tan by tomorrow.

“Um, hang on,” I squeaked, rubbing my head and squinting around. I was still in the boat, in my bra and underwear, and my clothes were tossed all around the boat.

“Holly, where the fuck are you? Both you and Alex never came back and no has a clue where you are! Not even Claudia!” Zack bellowed. My eyes began to water as I whimpered, my head feeling like an axe was splitting it in two.

“Zack, please, just shut up!” I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut. “Please, Zack, please. I don't know where I am, okay? I don't know!”

“Where are you? Describe your location, because I’m coming to get you,” he growled, softening his tone.

“See, that’s the problem…” I whispered, peaking one eye to face the glaring sun. Pain laced my brain, causing me to feel woozy and sick. “I’m kinda on Lake Hamilton…”

“WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING THERE? HOLLY, WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE’S ALEX?” Turning my head to the side, I choked back bile, my throat burning. My head was spinning, I needed to sit down. “HOLLY? WHERE ARE YOU?”

“I don’t know!” I wailed, burrowing my head in my hands. “If you don’t remember, I don’t know this place like the back of my hand!” Alex grunted in his sleep, and I quickly lowered my voice. “Just come and get me, please, Zack. I’ll get onto the main road and call you, but you have to get me now, okay?”

“I cannot believe this,” he growled. Taking a shuddering breath, I moved to hang up my phone. “I’ll do it.”

“I owe you big time,” I smiled weakly, still shaky and sick to my stomach. Hanging up my phone, I slid into my dress, grabbed my bag, shoes, and managed to slap my hair back into a sloppy ponytail. Although the boat had flipped, the oars had stayed locked in place, so it was easy for me to get set up. The rowing, however, was hard.

By the time I had rowed the boat back to the small dock, the sun had risen higher in the sky and Zack had called my phone twice. Alex was still asleep on the bottom of the boat, and I began to wonder if something was wrong with him. It was, after all, about one thirty in the afternoon, and he was still passed out. After a moment’s hesitation between running away from the boat and staying to check on Alex, I crouched down and jabbed my fingers under his chin, finding his pulse. It was beating, he was breathing; he was fine.

I tossed the rope around one of the wooden logs, climbed onto the dock, and ran as fast as my feet and my hangover would allow. I stumbled over rocks, dirt, and tree branches, wincing and moaning as my head pounded with each agonizing step. After ten painful minutes, I was back on the road, secluded from town and prying eyes of prissy neighbors.

Retrieving my phone, I dialed Zack’s number.

“I’m on the road, please come rescue me,” I panted. “Just drive down the road leading from town and you’ll see me.”

Five minutes later, Zack’s old Volvo pulled up in front of me, the passenger window rolled down. “Get in the car.”

“Zack, I’m giving you my first born child,” I gushed, collapsing on the seat. He passed me two Advil and a bottle of water, causing me to nearly burst into tears. I popped the pills in my mouth, downed them with water, and laid back, eyes closed.

“I also brought coffee,” he grunted, handing me a thermos of the warm caffeinated drink.

“Marry me,” I begged, snatching it from his hands and cradling it close to my chest. “Please, marry me and have my children.” A ruddy blush crept up over his neck and cheeks, but I choose to ignore it.

“Alex still asleep?” he asked, turning his car slowly down South Broadway.

“He’s in a coma, practically,” I sighed, propping my feet up on the dashboard. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk until I’m thirty-five.”

“What ever possessed you to do something like this?” he questioned, glancing at me. “I mean, getting drunk with Alex, not waking up until noon halfway out on the lake?”

“Key words,” I snapped, still nursing my head. “I got drunk.”

“How did you even get drunk? You’re both seventeen!”

“Well, mom, there’s this thing called fake IDs. I happen to have one, so it’s no problem getting the alcohol,” I seethed. “Just shut up, okay?” Sour, we ignored each other for the rest of the drive to Claudia’s house. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I jumped from the car, slammed the door, and stormed to her front door.

“OH MY GOD, YOU’RE ALIVE!” Claudia tackled me backwards, and I stumbled, scraping my feet against the pavement and hurting them further. “KRISTA, HOLLY’S BACK! AND SHE’S ALIVE!”

Shoving her off of me, I bent over the rail of the porch and vomited into Grandma Mimi’s hydrangeas.

+

“Next time, Holly dear,” Mimi chided, plumping my pillow and pressing the cool wash towel against my forehead as I laid on Claudia’s bed in the dark, “please aim for plants other than those hydrangeas.” I nodded weakly, closing my eyes and trying to escape back into the world of sleep. Hangovers suck balls.