Two is Better than None

one

OCTOBER 2021

I definitely should have stayed my ass home tonight because as I sit on this sofa, the four shots I took earlier with Amir working their way through my system, I am forced to witness the make-out session between two juniors from my high school. Their hands are a tangled mess in each other's hair, their mouths unhinged like pelicans, absorbing each other as if they were the other's last meal.

Gross.

I scan the crowd of people standing in the living room, searching for anyone to share my abhorrence at this sight but everyone is too caught up in their party frivolities. I'm alone in watching this act of teenage horniness occurring next to me. I wish Rue were here. She'd get them up in seconds.

As they move further down the couch, I am forced to move myself, until I'm practically off of it, as they are now laying on each other.

"You do realize people can like see you, right? Like you aren't the only two people on the planet?" I snap loudly over the music that thrums through the house. One of them, the girl, stops and opens her eyes, her face flashing with embarrassment. As for the guy? Well, he isn't too happy. He gets off of her and doesn't bother to fix how disheveled looks which causes me to bite back in laugh. His brown hair sticks out in tuffs and his pale white cheeks are the color of tomatoes. He's tall, only an inch or two above me, yet the way he glowers with irritation makes him seem like a skyscraper compared to my five-eleven.

"Yo, instead of shitting on other people, how about you go get some pussy?" he barks. I roll my eyes. Must he be so vulgar? My God.

"You can watch your mouth. All I'm saying is, making out like this at a party on a couch that others are sitting at, is crazy. It makes you look crazy, actually," I slur slightly. The liquor is definitely boosting my confidence right now but I roll with it because, why not? Plus, I'm right.

The boy scoffs.

"Point still stands, bud," he begins. Bud. Imagine arguing with someone and calling them 'bud'. Only white people, oh my God.

"Being miserable at a party is kind of pathetic." I furrow my eyebrows as my mouth slightly gapes at his statement. He can't be serious. Me? Miserable at a party? I am quite literally the life of the party! The only reason I was sitting on the couch in the first place was to take a break from the sorry excuse of a drinking game Amir came up with downstairs. How dare he?

"You don't know shit, about me, okay? Just..." I can feel some eyes on the back of my head so I cut this short. The last thing I need is everyone else agreeing with this hornball of a junior that I am nothing but the misery that loves company.

"Watch where y'all going next time. And not every guy likes pu-vagina!" I exasperate. He squints his eyes in confusion and I huff in response, shoving past him. I begin to hear some form of retaliation but the voice of his girl calls him back and then they're at it again on the couch. I bring my fingers to the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes briefly before moving through the hordes of people here. Shoving the previous interaction below the folds of my inebriation, I set course to find Amir.

Moving through the crowds, I recognize many students from Sutton High and some from the high schools from the surrounding towns. There are kids from Baxter High, a few from Cliffton, and as far as kids from the schools in Boston. A little far from home but that is the norm for parties thrown by Alexis Baptiste. I remember the first time I heard she was throwing a party, back when we were sophomores. A girl like Alexis Baptiste, then, and even now despite what's gone down at her parties, held a reputation that would never associate herself with throwing parties of such teenage debauchery.

Yet, when she threw her first one, a girl got fucked in the guest bathroom and became pregnant just a few days later. I figured after that, the parties would stop but they didn't. They continued throughout the sophomore year, then junior year, and now, senior year, each year bringing nothing more but incredulous stories, gossip, and rumors that were the driving force behind our good ole' high school, Sutton High.
Of course, people talk. It's high school. But someone— and many think it's Alexis but I doubt it— took it to the next step and created the Instagram page known as @baptistebackrooms. An account dedicated to posting the stupid yet fairly comical behaviors that go down at the infamous Alexis Baptiste parties. Sort of like a barstool page but for our high school. When it first popped up, I was sure the school was going to get it shut down but one thing about the students at Sutton High, the only time you'll see us rally together is over stupid shit like that Instagram account and there hasn't been any trouble with it since its debut.