"I can't remember what happened that night. I'm not talking slippery details or fuzzy-edged visions; I mean a complete and utter blackout. Like I wasn't even there. Except... I know I was."
Since the death of her boyfriend six months ago, Morgan Cai...
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Once Hanna and I finished getting ready, the pregame happened at Josh's apartment.
His roommates were having a bunch of people over, he told us. Oh—and there was plenty of room for any of Hanna's friends, if they were up for it.
Really? You sure?
Yeah, definitely. The more, the merrier, right?
So she reached for her phone, beginning to tap out invitations at the speed of light. Whether she was making plans or changing them, I couldn't be sure—but she certainly seemed eager to take Josh up on the offer.
On our way out of the dorm, Hanna obviously took her two bottles of vodka, tucked inconspicuously into a backpack with a bundled-up T-shirt between them so they wouldn't clink in earshot of the RAs. She'd already necked a couple of shots. Josh, too, which made me uncomfortable because he was driving us back to his apartment. But when I tried to mention it he just laughed me off, maintaining the alcohol still wouldn't have touched his blood by the time we got there and leaving me feeling stupid for speaking up.
His apartment was loud and hectic; we could hear the commotion upon stepping out of the elevator. In the living room the sound system was on full volume, and at least twelve people had set up camp there, spilling onto the arms of the couches and backward dining chairs dragged in to fill the gaps. A pint glass of murky brown liquid sat on the floor, ringed by a splayed-out deck of cards; everyone in the circle took turns to draw one, resulting in a range of vocal reactions and complicated consequences.
Hanna marched through to the kitchen and started rifling through Josh's cupboards to find a glass.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said when she did. "Not so fast. You think I'm going to wash that up tomorrow morning? Not happening."
"What am I supposed to do, then? You can't invite me over and expect me to swig from a bottle."
"I know we're college students, but we're not animals." Josh took the glass from her and placed it back on the shelf. Then he threw open the cupboard under the sink. "Voilà."
Inside was a jumbo pack of red Solo cups.
"You know you're killing the environment, right?" Hanna said, taking the cup he was offering. "But it's your place, so whatever."
Josh's eyes glinted mischievously. "You could also say I'm saving water, so how about we call it even?"
Hanna shrugged, then busied herself pouring a generous measure of vodka into her cup. Her movements were already jerky and unsteady; she definitely didn't need much more, but I knew better than to try and convince her. As I watched a splash of mixer jump past the rim and onto the countertop, I realized Josh was looking at me.
"You want one?"
I took the cup he was holding out. "Just for Coke, though."
