chapter 31

285 17 33
                                    

CW// underage drinking

(Karl POV)

Something Nick apparently neglected to tell me was that he was invited to a New Year's Eve party. As was everyone else. Including Alex and I. 

"I'm sorry, what?" Alex asks. 

"Nick decided he wasn't going to tell me we've been invited to a New Year's Eve party until the night of," I repeat. 

Alex scoffs. "Rude," he mutters. 

I shrug. "It happens, I guess."

"So... who's throwing it?"

"I really hope it's not the basketball team, I'll say that much," I say, rolling my eyes. "I won't even last two minutes in that house before one of them makes fun of me."

Alex walks over to me and rests his hands on my shoulders. "And I'm sure Nick knows that, and wouldn't accept the invite if that were to happen," he says. "Don't worry."

I grin up at him. "You're so wise, Alex," I say.

He laughs and sits down next to me. "Comes with the job," he jokes.

"What job?" I scoff. 

"Your therapist/room mate, obviously."

I shake my head and smile. "Yes, because you need the wisest credentials for that," I say sarcastically.

He rests his head on my shoulder. "Clearly."

A moment later, his hand finds mine, and our fingers interlock. My head rests against his own, and I smile to myself. 

"Hey, Karl! Alex!" Nick shouts. 

"Yeah?" I shout back. 

He appears in the doorway and frowns. "Y'all didn't tell me we were having cuddles!" he exclaims. 

Alex giggles. "Y'all."

I roll my eyes. "Did you need something?"

He ambles over to my other side and mirrors Alex. I wrap my other arm around his waist, and he does the same. "I just wanted to see of you were both down to go tonight," he mutters. "There's gonna be fireworks, apparently. And movies and games and food."

"Who's hosting?" I ask. 

"A football player who recently came out as pan, and is only inviting good people," he replies. "So no dickheads."

Alex huffs. "Good."

~~

So at 7:12, we march up the front steps of a house in the suburbs with kids spilling out the doors, and in one special case, the third floor window. Somehow, they just stand up and run off. 

Must be the alcohol. 

Alex suddenly grabs my other hand. "You okay?" I whisper out of the side of my mouth.

He shrugs. "I've never been to a party before."

I scoff quietly. "You think I have?" 

He hums. "Good point."

When we walk in, there's no overwhelming stench of alcohol like most American high school parties are famed to include. Nick must see the confusion on my face, because he laughs and tells me "there's alcohol, but not as much as what's 'typical'. This party is less of a party and more of a get together."

Which makes sense. 

There's music, but it's quieter. Groups are tucked into corners playing board games, a TV is being used to watch A Christmas Story and another is being used in an intense match of Mario Kart. There's a table with an array of snacks; donuts, pizza, fruit and veggie trays, bowls of chips, candies and chocolate, cans of pop. Honestly, it would seem really lame to anyone else, but considering what I was expecting, this is so much better. 

actions speak louder than words {karlnap}Where stories live. Discover now