The Beginning, Middle, but not the End

Day 6,010 (March 31st)

I can see Mom frantically rushing around the kitchen, checking on her casseroles and green beans, through the window in the back of the house. Callie and I are setting up the table outside with plenty of chairs and dishes. Dad is grilling the burgers and bratwurst on the grill.

Today we're having a grill with our family and our family friends. Camden is already here, he's been bringing the chairs outside for us. Dallas and his mom will be here soon. Mom and Dad have their close friends coming over too. The air smells of the greasy meat on the grill and smoke. The sound of sizzling meat feels familiar, almost homey. Dad's wearing his generic Irish apron that reads "KISS ME, I'M IRISH". He had to convince Mom to let him buy it on St. Patrick's Day last year, and since then, it has become his go-to cover-up for when he cooks. I go inside to check on Mom's food. The kitchen smells strongly of the delicious food being baked.

Some of Mom's friends start arriving, same with Dad's. One of his buddies shows up with two packs of hard lemonade for the adults. He teases me in offering me one, but Mom butts in and tells him no. I lead everyone to the backyard where Dad finishes up the last batch of burgers. Callie is holding the plate that he puts the meat patties onto using a spatula. We sit down, but there's still two empty seats. Where is Dallas and his mom? Usually they're the first to arrive considering they live only a street over. The center of the table is filled with the foods of our feast. There's green bean casserole and squash casserole, baked sweet potatoes, burgers, bratwurst, roasted carrots, salad, and baked beans. Everything seems perfect, but the two empty seats. Where are they? What if something happened to them? Maybe I'm just overthinking this all. They're probably fine and just running a bit late. But what if something went wrong?

I'm doing it again, I'm overthinking and I need to stop.

"Jodie!" I turn my head around to face the back of the house. Dallas is helping his mom carry two dishes. Suddenly, relief fills my body. The slight goosebumps have gone away.

A feeling of alleviation washes over me, "Hey, what'd you make?"

Miss Dolan--Stacey, laughs, "Oh! I made au gratin and my famous banana pudding." Mom comes over and grabs the dish Dallas is holding. She helps his mom to the table with the containers.

"I didn't worry you, did I?" Dallas frowns at me.

I dismiss the seriousness of the question, "Totally, I thought you were killed by a radioactive ingredient exposed to you while your mom was cooking." We sit down at the table where everyone is helping themselves and laughing. Mom is telling Dad's friend about her stories as a dentist. One of Mom's lady friends is telling Callie about how dorky Mom can be, but that it's okay because dorks are the best. Dallas and his mom are talking to the other lady friend.

Camden nudges me as I listen to other people's conversations. I lean over to my left, the side where he is, and listen. "Don't say anything, but your dad's friend stocked away a can of lemonade or two for us. Callie wanted to know if you and Dallas wanted to join?" He sounds serious, but I can't tell if he is being sarcastic or not. I glance over to Dallas, who is laughing laughing loudly. His dimples are very prominent, even when he's not smiling. His dark brown eyes begin to squint as he laughs, and I try to imagine him drinking. I don't see it happening, but who knows.

"Sure, are you staying the night?" Camden nods and invites himself into a conversation with Dad and his buddy about a car.

We continue the night like this. The laughter doesn't die down for a moment. Once it gets dark, we light the tikis and dig into Miss Dolan's special banana pudding. Tonight seems infinite. I love these get-togethers with my family and friends. It's almost as though nothing exists beyond this fence that outlines the backyard.

Dallas runs out to his mom's car, but is quickly back. He doesn't come back alone however. Now, he is carrying a light brown acoustic guitar. Everyone forms into a circle around him. He starts to strum, no song or tune in particular, he's just playing what he's feeling. Camden and I start to clap along to the beat that we find and agree upon non-verbally.

Soon, everyone starts to join in. There are no particular words we begin singing like in the movies, we are simply just clapping and admiring the music coming from the heart of a teenage boy. The music is upbeat, but soft. I don't know how, but I feel this music. I understand how it feels and what it says, even without the words. That's how I know that it's good music. The next hour is full of music and cheering, nothing less.

Camden comes into my room, where Dallas and I are listening to music and admiring the different instruments in the songs. "Hey, you guys ready?" Cam smiles and winks at us.

I smile, but a feeling of guilt rushes through me. Dallas nods for the two of us and we walk down to the basement, following Cam. I walk down the creaky stairs that lead to the basement, and shiver when my bare toes touch the cold concrete floor. The TV's on sleep mode, but music still plays from its speakers. Callie is sitting on the couch, playing on her phone. I sitdown next to her and pull my legs to my chest. Dallas sits on the floor in front of the couch with his legs crossed. Camden walks somewhere behind us, and returns with three bottles that hold a pink carbonated liquid.

I look to my sister who mindlessly takes a bottle without looking at Cam, "What if we get caught?"

She smiles at me and sets her phone down, "Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Just try to have some fun, okay?" I give her a faint smile, and soon everyone but me is holding a bottle. Dallas opens his, but then offers it to me. I admire the bottle. His hand is holding tightly onto it, and tilts the neck of the bottle towards me.

"Do you want some, Jo?" He smiles at me.

I could get in lots of trouble for this by my parents and the law. I remember last year we had an alcohol and tobacco seminar where we went over the rules of alcohol in Missouri. Bits of information flood my mind. In the state of Missouri, you have to be 21 to possess or purchase alcohol. But with a parent or guardian's approval it is acceptable to drink under the age. If a parent forces their child to drink alcohol, it's considered abuse. My pulse starts to pace quicker and quick. I try to remember something, anything to put my mind to ease.

After milliseconds of searching the files in my brain, I remember a rule that says a minor can drink alcohol and be intoxicated when searched by police and not be punished as long as they didn't break any laws like driving while drunk. The only term for this law is that you can't have any alcohol in your possession. I'm a bit shocked that I remember all of this, but I'm also not. It's always been a perk of mine, remembering important information. I take a deep breath, then look at Dallas, "I'll try one sip."

Somehow, the bottle is in my hand already. I can't recall ever grabbing the bottle. I can feel everyone staring at me, but I'm staring down into my drink. The smell of sweet lemonade is clear, but there's something off about it. That harsh smell would be the liquor. I put the bottle to my lips, I shouldn't do this. As though my hand has a mind of its own, the bottom of the bottle tilts up, and the drink slowly comes rushing to my mouth. I take a big drink, but I have to swallow hard. The back of my throat stings slightly, why did I do this to myself? The sweetness leaves an unfamiliar flavor in my mouth.

I quickly hand the bottle back to my best friend, but I hear laughing. I realize my eyes closed when I was taking a drink. All I meant to take was a sip, not a huge gulp. Once I open my eyes, I realize they are all giggling. The laughter becomes contagious. Dallas, Cal, and Cam are smiling and I can't help but grin back at them.

Dallas takes a much bigger drink than I did, and reacts normally. But maybe he's drank before? But why would he ever need to drink? If he does, how does he get it? I stare at him, full of all these questions that I know better than to ask out loud. These are things that he deserves to keep to himself. I don't need to know everything about his life. I am not his mother, after all. But he's my best friend, and I'm allowed to be concerned.

Maybe I should just stop. That's his business, and I'm going to respect his privacy, because that's what a decent person does.

We laugh all night, as Camden and Callie become more drunk. They aren't doing anything stupid, instead they just express their love for each other a bit more than normal. It's cute, I hope to have something like what they have some day.