Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Cheap Champagne 2/3

But she said one thing that still sticks with me, “don’t hurt her.” I’m sure everyone hears that at some point in their lives, and few are able to follow it precisely. Me included.

The words had validity though. The words had a meaning that I couldn’t grasp beyond their magnitude. My actions affect people. My actions can change the course of another’s life. And it scared me I think.

“Don’t hurt her,” Annie said as I picked at the grass, “she’s my cousin and she’s important to me. Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t,” I said, “she’s my friend, I won’t.” I don’t think I knew what I was saying. Or the enormous promise I was taking on. Life was changing at the pace of puberty. Life moves too quickly to ever really grab hold of it; especially during that kind of turmoil.

At some point I turned into a teenager and went out with my two cousins to some girl’s house. We were in the hot tub. Her parent’s were or weren’t in town--but were absent or absentee parents. I can’t remember their names. None of it mattered, but at the same time it all did. Three girls. Three boys. And we all got in the hot tub and drank a cheap bottle of champagne.

One girl was very unattractive and very drunk. I was the cousin from out of town. Evan was evidently trying to hook up with the girl whose house it was. And Rader was as he always was. Cruising there; half-in and half-out; a person spread across space.

I can’t remember the third girl. Maybe there was no third girl.

I took a sip of the champagne; it was a sickly sweet mixture of bad alcohol from unripe fruits not properly aged and the darkness that looms in the corners of every teenaged memory.

I felt bad for the drunk girl. She was complaining about something; about being horny or something. And it felt like she was taken advantage of.

“I want to sit on somebody’s lap,” she said.