Dying and Everything in between

21| Spinning Out

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The party had escalated faster than Lucas expected.

Eventually, he was invited to play some games, and without any hesitation, he joined. He spent most of the time re-learning them and when he finally got a grip on his strategy, he was beating everyone. Laughter wrung his stomach dry, and every shot he took made him feel lighter.

He started to forget about Joy and everything troubling him around the eighth shot he had. The more the strangers welcomed him in, the more he forgot about everything.

Luckily he wasn't that drunk. Yet. He was just more relaxed, but of course, there would come a point where he needed to stop. He checked the time every other moment, trying not to think much about how the evening was slowly evolving into the night.

Someone cranked the speakers to eleven, the bass reverberating through the floor. Every corner of the house seemed to be packed with bodies, red solo cups in hand, and voices raised in a competition to be heard over the pounding music. 

Lucas wasn't sure why he'd kept drinking. Maybe it was the noise or the simple fact that he wasn't thinking about his countdown clock for once. Whatever it was, the drink in his hand kept getting refilled, and before he knew it, he'd lost track of how many sips had turned into full cups.

Now, everything felt a little too bright, a little too loud, and far too blurry.

He stumbled through the crowded living room, the laughter around him sounding like it was underwater. His head spun as he leaned against the wall for balance. Someone passed by and clapped him on the shoulder, shouting something he couldn't quite make out. He forced a grin in their direction, hoping it looked convincing. 

"You good, man?" a voice called, but Lucas waved them off, his hand wobbling in the air. He shook his head, but the motion made the room tilt dangerously. 

He needed air.

The house seemed endless, each hallway identical to the last. He finally found a door that led to the backyard, stumbling into the crisp night air. The sudden quiet was a relief, though his head still swam. He sat down heavily on the porch steps, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"Lucas?"

The sound of her voice made him blink, his head lifting slowly. Joy was standing a few feet away, her expression equal parts worried and exasperated. She had her arms crossed over her chest, her jacket barely enough to keep out the chill.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked, walking closer.

"Breathing," he said, the word slurring slightly. He let out a breathless laugh and gestured vaguely at the house. "Too much... noise."

"Are you drunk?" Joy asked crouching down in front of him. Lucas just shook his head with a no. 

"Come with me." She said, standing up and dragging him up by his arm. She dragged him somewhere. Where? Lucas wasn't sure. 

"How are you here?" She finally asked when they entered a bedroom. She locked the door as Lucas plopped down on the bed. 

Before he could answer, Joy rushed toward him, a crease forming between her brows as her hand settled on either side of his shoulders. "Did you drink too much? Did you text Laura? Does she even know you are here?"

"Calm down," Lucas muttered, trying to pry her hands off of him, unable to meet her concerned-filled eyes. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine!" She snapped. "How stupid you are to drink so much, Andrews!" She snarled, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "You are drunk at some random someone's party! Did you lie to Laura?"