Fourteen Beers at Chili's

Page 27

Oh shit! One of your bros is in trouble!

Wait a minute. One of your bros? When did they become your bros? There is something about the hazing that makes you feel inexplicably closer to them. That's an incredibly unhealthy trauma bond, but you don't know that. All you know is that you have to go make sure Kyle is okay. Even Pug Bro went with the search party, and you're not about to be shown up by him.Besides, as bomb as Chili's is, it's not the kind of place you hang out by yourself. That's sad.

You'd grown pretty attached to the bros throughout your short dinner together. That's the trauma bond talking again, but you won't understand that until you finally decide to go to therapy.

Derek will never let you live it down if you stayed behind, and you still have to live with the guy for another week until the semester was over. You'll give up on your fourteen beer dream if it means keeping the peace with your roommate. Pug Bro gave you the watch for a night's worth of pledge activities, and the night isn't over. Who knows what kind of fucked up punishment Derek would come up with if you ditched?

You're not about to fuck around and find out.

Your soul aches as you open your wallet and leave all your cash on the table. Derek didn't wait for actual bills to be distributed, so you don't know what you owe. You're way too drunk to try to figure it out. As shitty as you are, you aren't about to dine and dash. Not after all your bros paid. It looks like the Maddi got her tip after all. Good for her.

You heft your backpack over your shoulder before following the group of bros out of the restaurant. The bros have gathered in the street in a huge mob. Goosebumps rise on your arms. It's chilly despite it nearly being summer break. At least you have jeans on. The bros, clad in their pastel shorts, have to be freezing. What is that saying? A ho never gets cold? That probably doesn't apply to men. Or maybe it does. Men can be hos too. Maybe you can ask Derek about it later. He's the biggest ho you know.

Your strange train of thought derails as shitty early 2000s pop hits blare from an incoming pedal wagon. It nearly hits you, and you stumble out of the road back onto the sidewalk. The partiers scream along to the lyrics as they pedal comically fast for how slowly the wagon is moving. You can't comprehend how they aren't all hurling. Doing so much exercise while sloshed doesn't sound like a good time to you.

The bros don't pay the wagon any mind, awkwardly shuffling out of its way as Derek splits them into different search groups. Thankfully, you're paying attention because you catch sight of a familiar sick ass Hawaiian shirt. Somehow, Kyle ended up on the wagon. He sat on the back bench seat, wedged in between two young ladies. The one in the sequined tank top giggles and pats his arm while the one with the lip ring looks like she might push him off. Her eyes practically roll out of her head at whatever Kyle just said.

"Uh.....guys..." You point at the wagon. "I found Kyle."

"Follow that wagon!" Derek yells. He points at the wagon dramatically, like a general leading his troops to battle. The bros take off in a pastel stampede.

The moment is so close to being like a cool action movie, but it's utterly ruined by some Hilary Duff song droning from the wagon. Derek leads the pack as the bros quickly catch up to the wagon and jog beside it. Sequined Tank Top giggles and waves at them, but Lig Ring digs through her purse, presumably for pepper spray. You stick to the back of the pack to be safe.

"Kyle! Jump!" Derek holds out his arms to catch his bro like a moment straight from Casablanca. Or maybe not. Obviously, you've never watched Casablanca, but it sounds like a reference that could make sense.

The wagon can't be moving more than like five miles an hour, so Kyle probably could have just stepped off the side. You watch, confused but amused, as Kyle stands and leaps from the wagon. Time moves in slow motion as Kyle hurdles into Derek's arms. The moment of brotherly love would have been touching if the wagon didn't then immediately stop at a red light. Kyle definitely could have just climbed off.

Derek sets Kyle on the ground and the bros quickly gather around, talking over each other as they try to figure out what happened. There's definitely something strange going on with Kyle. He's drenched in sweat despite the cold and keeps swatting the air like he's shooing off bugs

Only you don't see any bugs.

"What the hell is going on?" Derek asks.

"I'm not sure how, but I guess I sort of smoked PCP in the Chili's bathroom," Kyle replies like that's totally a reasonable thing to do on accident.

Derek isn't phased. "We better go back to the Delta house so you can sleep it off."

Is that really all Derek has to say? Kyle must pull stunts like this pretty often. Frats are more hardcore than you imagined if they have casual access to shit like PCP. You aren't exactly sure what PCP is, but you know it's bad news. The hardest drug you've ever done is cough syrup. You were in elementary school and your mom gave you a little too much. Robo-tripping while watching daytime television was unexpectedly terrifying. You were pinned to the couch, terrified Dr. Phil was going to show up and send you to that awful ranch. Your dog went to a ranch once, and he'd yet to come back.

The bro herd takes up the whole sidewalk as they make their way down the street. This is your only chance to escape. If Derek is willing to haze pledges in public, who knows what kind of shit he'd do on Delta's home turf? You look longingly over your shoulder at Chili's, considering going back in to finish your fourteen beer goal. If only you had any money. With a heavy sigh, you speed walk to catch up with the bros.

You're one of them now, at least for the night.

END.

BEER COUNTER: 10