I heard the sloshing of the schnapps bottle in Nicole’s pocket as she jogged across the front lawn to catch up to me. I stopped at the concrete steps that lead to the front door, which was completely open. While we peered into the entry way, two seniors wearing letterman’s jackets walked out. One was lighting a cigarette and the other was talking excitedly.
“Kinsey! I didn’t think you would make it,” said the excited talker, holding his hand up for a high five.
“I couldn’t miss the biggest party of the year,” I said and slapped a palm firmly against his upheld hand.
The two lettermen walked past us. The talker resumed his excited talk and the smoker put a lighter to the end of his cigarette and puffed.
“I swear,” Nicole said. “Jocks are so latently homosexual, it’s not even funny.”
“That was Kip, he’s had like 14 girlfriends since freshman year.”
“Like that matters,” Nicole said with a laugh.
She gestured to the doorway and I led the way into the house. Passing through the entryway, we traded the cool evening air for hot, humid pressure. At least fifty kids were scattered throughout the living room. Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was playing loudly over a set of speakers mounted on the wall. A sub-woofer in the corner carried the kicks from Dave Grohl’s right foot directly to my chest. The only way to have a conversation over the loud music was to shout. The party-goers loud voices added to the cacophony and their breath added to the sticky atmosphere. I remembered from my last visit that there was an elevated deck off of the dining room and I was relived to see that the sliding door was open. There was only a few kids standing out there.
“Come on,” I yelled to Nicole and dragged her past the crowd of people drunkenly moshing in the middle of the living room.
When we arrived at the sliding glass door, I realized that one of the people standing on the deck was Jerrad. He leaned back against the railing with a grin on his face. The elbow of his left arm was resting on the top beam of the railing and a bottle of Rolling Rock was dangling from the fingers of his left hand. His right arm was wrapped around the waist of a girl who leaned up against him. The fingers of his right hand were slipped into her right front pocket of her jean shorts. The girl propped up against Jerrad had a bored look on her face while she listened to him talk to the only adult I had seen at the party so far.
“Yeah,” said Jerrad. “Tall Timber is going to be the team to beat this year. Their entire offensive line is made up of seniors weighing 225 or more. That sophomore running back they have is goddamn fast, nobody can catch him.”
“Your boys are just going to have to keep him back, can’t let him run,” said the man.
Jerrad looked over the man’s shoulder at me.
“Kinsey, my man. I’m glad you could come!”
The man who was talking to Jerrad turned and I realized he was Jonathan Griffith, Jerrad’s father.
“Trevor Kinsey,” said Mr. Griffith as he extended a hand for me to shake. “Welcome back to our home. Are you having a good time?”
I took the man’s hand in mine and felt him squeeze a little harder than the average handshake.
“We only just got here but it seems like quite a party,” I said while squeezing his hand in return.
“Hey, mi casa es su casa tonight. Grab a beer out of the fridge and enjoy yourself.”
Nicole, who was standing to my left, pulled the bottle of schnapps from her hoodie. Nicole eyed him warily while she unscrewed the cap from the bottle and handed me the plastic that came off the top.
“Well, I’m going to get out of here and let you kids have your fun. Nobody wants an old fogey like me hanging around, right?”
Jonathan smiled and winked at Nicole. He then slapped his son on the shoulder, which jostled the girl leaning up against Jerrad’s chest. The bored look on her face turned to annoyance as she rolled her eyes. As Mr. Griffith walked away, Nicole put the bottle to her lips and took a big swallow.
“Damn, homegirl,” said Jerrad. “I didn’t know you liked to party.”
The girl propped against Jerrad rolled her eyes again.
“Kinsey, you know my girlfriend right?”
“Yeah, we have the same math class,” I answered. “Hi Molly.”
“Hi,” Molly said, unenthusiastically.
The last strains of Nirvana faded and No Doubt’s “Spiderwebs” started to play. Molly stood up and turned to face Jerrad, whose fingers slid from her pocket as she rotated.
“Finally, a good song to dance to. Come on,” pleaded Molly, pulling on the hand that just left her pocket.
“Okay, okay,” said Jerrad as he set the green beer bottle in the flower box mounted to the deck’s railing. “Kinsey, I’ll be right back. I gotta talk to you about next week’s game.”
Jerrad allowed himself to be pulled towards the back door. A bulky member of the defensive line walked out of the house with a beer in his right hand. He made devil’s horns with his left hand, pointed them at Jerrad, and yelled, “Woohoo!” The two of them bumped chests, causing some beer to spill on the deck. Molly dragged Jerrad into the house and the large kid approached another boy. They repeated the yell, the horns, the bump, and the spilled beer.
“Seriously,” asked Nicole as she handed me the bottle. “You don’t see what I’m talking about?”
I brought the bottle to halfway to my lips and said, “What?”
The spicy sweet smell of the root beer-flavored schnapps hit my nose as I brought the bottle the rest of the way to my mouth. I took a modest drink and enjoyed the burning in my throat that eased to a mellow warmth when it hit my stomach. Most schnapps is not very strong, at least compared to whiskey or other liquor. This one, however, was 100 proof and was my favorite thing to drink at a party. I never really cared for beer and could only drink liquor if it was mixed with something. This strong schnapps was sweet enough to drink straight and strong enough that I didn’t look like a wuss for drinking it.
“All the high-fives, the chest bumps, the showering together for crying out loud?”
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“I wouldn’t be surprised to walk into the locker room after a game and see dudes making out and jerking each other off.”
I shook my head and handed the bottle back to Nicole. She had a way of saying dirty or offensive things that I found endearing.
“I have never seen that happen in our locker room.”
“Well, not that it would be such a bad thing. I have no problems with people being gay. I just think it’s kind of lame to hide it behind all this macho bullshit.”
I took the schnapps from Nicole, leaned back against the deck railing, and tried to look as nonchalant as possible. From where I stood, I could see Jerrad dancing with Molly. Fatboy Slim’s “Praise You” was playing and I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Molly was bent at the waist while Jerrad was grinding on her from behind. Her butt looked perfect and her jeans were cut so short I could see the pockets sticking out of the bottom. Nicole propped herself against the railing beside me, stuck her hands into her hoodie pocket, and followed my gaze.
“Ugh, they might as well be fucking in front of everyone.”
“They’re just dancing,” I said.
“You call that dancing? You want to dance with me like that?”
“I don’t really like to dance.”
“Huh,” said Nicole.
Nicole took the bottle from me, took a swig, and then handed it back.
“I have to pee,” she announced and stalked across the deck.
After the Moby song was over, The Bloodhoud Gang’s “Fire, Water, Burn” began. I looked back to where Jerrad and Molly had been dancing and saw that they were on their way back to the deck. Jerrad had his hand on her backside and they both glistened with sweat.
“It’s fucking hot in there, Kinsey,” Jerrad said as he approached. “You have the right idea staying out here.”
Jerrad reached for the beer he left in the flower box, but accidentally knocked it over. It tumbled into the grass below and I heard someone below shout.
“Dammit,” said Jerrad. “Looks like I need to go back in for a fresh one. “You guys want anything?”
Jerrad pointed at me and Molly and arched an eyebrow.
“Do you have any Diet Coke,” asked Molly.
“Haha,” Jerrad laughed and turned walk into the house.
Molly shook her head and then turned to me.
“You got a smoke,” she asked.
I pulled a pack of cigarettes from each of my coat pockets.
“Menthol or regular,” I asked.
Molly gave a small laugh and said, “You sure come prepared. Are you a Boy Scout?”
The truth was that I had been a Boy Scout until 6th grade. The way she said the words made me think that perhaps it wasn’t cool to be one so I smiled and shook my head.
Molly plucked the green-colored pack out of my left hand and began to firmly tap it against the palm of her left hand. Every time she struck her hand, I couldn’t help but notice her breasts would bounce a little. They threatened to spill out of her push-up bra and I was a little sad when she stopped packing the tobacco and began to open the pack. Once the pack was open, she put a cigarette to her lips, held it there while she handed me the rest of the pack, and began to search her pockets for a lighter.
I reached into my pocket and found a book of matches. I pulled one of the paper matches from its binding, struck it on the back of the book, and held it behind my cupped hand to keep the wind from extinguishing the little orange flame. Molly leaned forward to light the cigarette. I was anxious about catching her hair on fire so I didn’t reach far enough forward. Molly gently grasped the hand of mine that held the match and pulled it to her face. She looked at me as she puffed and I could see the match flame reflected in her brown eyes. Once her cigarette was lit, she released my hand and leaned back to take a deep drag. She tipped her head back and exhaled a minty cloud of smoke into the night sky.
It was only when she reached into my coat pocket for the other pack of cigarettes that I noticed Nicole had returned from the bathroom. She ripped open the pack, handed me the plastic wrap, and took the book of matches out of my hand. She scowled at me while she attempted to light a match.
Jerrad returned with another Rolling Rock in one hand and can of Coors Light in the other. He touched the cold, wet can of beer to Molly’s bare arm and she let out a startled gasp. She glared at Jared and took the beer from him. He took a place between the two girls.
“Looks like we’re out of Diet Coke,” he said and smiled to me.
Jerrad watched as Nicole failed to light a third match in a row.
“Here,” he said as he reached into his pocket.
Jerrad’s hand came out of his pocket holding something shiny. He expertly flicked his wrist and the Zippo lighter in his hand opened with muffled click. I could see the muscles in his forearm flex as he worked his thumb over the gray wheel, sending sparks to the lighter’s wick, which lit on the first stroke. Jerrad extended his arm toward Nicole. She narrowed her eyes at him a little and hesitated a moment before leaning toward him and lighting her cigarette. She puffed until the cigarette was lit and leaned back. With another deft flick of his wrist, Jerrad’s lighter snapped shut and I could make out the blue “bow-tie” symbol for the Chevrolet brand on the side of the lighter before he slipped it back into his pocket.
“Thanks,” said Nicole.
“Anytime,” said Jerrad.
Something about the way he was looking at Nicole made me uncomfortable. Jerrad’s uneven grin caused his right eye to close a little more than his left eye and it seemed like he was winking at her. I brought Nicole to the party but it wasn’t like she was my date. I had no reason to feel this way but I was suddenly jealous. I felt like I had to protect Nicole from him, even though Jerrad was standing right next to his girlfriend.
I looked at Molly to see that she was also looking at Nicole and her face had turned to a sneer. Nicole was looking at the trees that bordered the back yard and seemed oblivious to the sudden tension.
“Um, Jerrad,” I said. “You wanted to talk to me about next week’s game?”
Why I Stayed by Joshua Kautzman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.