One Last Shot

[29] Sherlock and Watson

   Iris

CW: Talk of miscarriage.

It's been a few days since the accident, and the girls were discharged. I prep the entire house for their return, with as many rest spots as possible and water everywhere. They're home on bed rest for a week, but they both bounce back within three days. Lilly is itching to get to a party. It hit her hard, the doctors told her she had been not even 6 weeks pregnant, but the crash killed the baby. She and Thomas have always wanted children, so it was heartbreaking for them, and the rest of us that know. Lilly would make an amazing mother, it just isn't her time yet.

After a week and a half of no interaction with the outside world, Lilly is pulling us to a party. I spend the day catching up on homework before a party. I throw on a light blue hoodie and ripped jeans, before lacing up my shoes. At this point, looking hot at parties doesn't interest me, and I'd rather be comfy. I feel no need to impress people at parties anymore, for some reason.

Pulling up to the party that Violet's girlfriend, Sarah is hosting, I know the boys are going to die. Sarah is a queer icon on campus, and she tends to rally most of the queer students for parties, but Violet got all the boys invites. Jasper and Liam are about to experience the time of their lives. Going in, my nose is welcomed with the smell of weed and sex. Not surprising, college parties are like that, but Sarah's house is huge and the smell pans everywhere, which means there's action in every room.

"Hi boys!" Violet waves them over to our spot in the house, a couch that has yet to have a chip crunched on it or a drink spilled all over it. Sarah welcomes them all with a hug, before sitting on Violet's lap to make room for them all. Violet's hands wrap around her waist without hesitation, and Sarah leans back into her, where she welcomes kisses on her neck from Violet's lips with giggles.

"I need a drink," I sigh, getting up.

"I'll come with you," Liam gets up quickly.

"Why?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"Because..." He has nothing. No reason.

"Sit down pretty boy, only one of us is getting wasted tonight and it will be me." I feel a lot safer at parties with more queer people. There's less straight males, and while I'm not saying sexual assault within the queer community is rare, but it's a group that looks out for each other more because we have to look out for each other in everyday life. Plus, I know a lot of the people here, one way or another, so I feel safer, surrounded by a bunch of people I know that aren't frat boys.

In the kitchen, I grab a Truly. Hard alcohol isn't my thing anymore, Freshman year I drank enough of that for the rest of my life. Popping it open, I grab a handful of popcorn before taking a sip.

"Hi," I feel a hand slide up my arm. No spark, not like before, because it isn't him. I shudder at the thought.

"Oh, hi," the girl in front of me, boobs pushed up with at least two push-up bras overpriced from Victoria's Secret and a low cut shirt, the smell of Sweet Vanilla perfume starts to outweigh the weed. "Robin, right?"

"No, Sydney." Oh no. I've turned into one of those guys that forgets girls' names. My newest low.

"Oh sorry, must be the alcohol," I chuckle nervously.

"That's your first drink," she deadpans. Oh fuck. "Miss me?" Who even is this girl? I don't even know if I ever fucked her.

"I'm going to be completely honest, I pregamed before I got here and I have no recollection of the past 3 years."

"My dorm," her hand slides up my arm and she slides closer to me, "Sophomore year?" Sophomore year there were a LOT of dorms, I'm getting nothing from the memory. She can tell I still have no idea, and rolls her eyes. "My roommate, Grace."