The Decuplets

Zach Drinks His Problems Away

Ella

When I was little, I was a very wholesome little girl. Even until I was fifteen, I never cursed; I even felt guilty taking a sip of my parents' alcoholic drink if they offered. That's the kind of thing I think about when I find myself completely alone in a swarm of sweaty people in some house of someone I've never spoken to. As crowded as it was, I was stranded, sticky, and severely questioning tonight's decisions. How did I end up here?

It starts, as always, with vodka. Scarlett and I pregamed in her room because Brandon was particularly stingy with alcohol today. "Memorial Day is not about celebrating or getting drunk, it's not even about getting off of school!" he had insisted. But if there's a party, you know where we'll be!

Equally drunk out of her mind as I was, Scarlett had wandered off long ago, leaving me and my limited vision splayed out on the couch. I worked with what I had and observed the room. In one corner was Brandon and Rachelle. He leaned against the door frame as they appeared to be talking about nothing particularly interesting.

I could also make out the figure of Reece is the opposite corner with some 4'11'' blond chick—
go figure, Gracie's already good as gone. Or getting cheated on.

I started singing Carrie Underwood out loud: "'Cause the next time that he cheats, you know it won't be on me." I got some very weird looks.

Now squinting, I found Zach alone maybe ten feet away. I lazily waved him over, and the closer he got to me, the more I was made aware that he was in a similar state of mind—intoxicated despair.

"You're drunk," I said in disbelief, looking him up and down.

He slumped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands, as if to shield his eyes from the dim lights. "Maybe," he slurred.

"You're worse than I am!" I exclaimed, sitting up too quickly and causing my world to spin. I lowered back down, rubbing my head.

"Maybe," he repeated, his voice muffled through his hands.

"Why?"

"Today was a disaster," he lamented, finally opening his eyes.

My posture perked up and the corners of my mouth slightly lifted, but I didn't make that known to him. That day, he had brought over the girl all of the brothers had been teasing him about. Bringing her over made me feel sick, but I had to remind myself he wasn't doing it with mal intent—he lives there, I do not (technically).

"So, uh, what happened?"

"I really shouldn't tell you!" He groaned, rolling his head in the opposite direction of me.

I sat up again and shook him by his shoulders, despite my better judgment telling me I might not want to know anyways. "Please, Zach," I begged like a child.

"Fine," he quickly gave in, swatting me away half-heartedly. "We were in my room, and..."

"...And?" My heart rate was picking up, every part of me fearing what he was going to say.

"She found, um, a," he paused, "-or not a, you know, your necklace."

"I left a necklace in your room?" I asked, confused. "And you didn't just give it back?"

"I shouldn't be telling you this," he complained, turning away again.

I started poking him repeatedly. "Zach, Zach, Zach..." on and on.

"Fine! It was a necklace I had gotten you when we first got back together. Scarlett helped me pick it out, but it didn't come before, like, the whole situation."

"What does it look like?" I prodded, fidgeting with the one around my neck.

"It's a locket."

"But how did she know it was for me?"

He looked at me with furrowed brows. "Um, it's a locket. There's a picture inside."

"Oh," was all I said. It was a lot for my drunk brain to take in, but she knew one thing: I was happy to have cockblocked him. I suppressed a smile. Zach is upset. Be considerate.

"Then she left?" I asked.

"Pretty much," he sighed.

"And you feel...sad?" No shit, Ella.

"I feel stuck."

"How so?"

"Like I have two options: I can either get over you or forgive you. But I can't seem to do either."

"You're an honest drunk," I noted.

"I see why you and Scarlett have borderline drinking problems. It's fun," he laughed then paused pensively. "But it also makes me think, being here right now."

"About?"

"About us."

My heart started pounding in my ears, but I played it off. "So vague."

"It just makes me miss you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I have a solution," I said, standing up.

The thirty minutes that followed were not the usual for us—in that time, our desperation reached a new height, and when I say we had never kissed like that, I mean it. With Zach, it had always been very puppy love, but this was far different. Both my brain and my heart were in absolute overdrive.

He started by taking his shirt off, then shifting mine off with it. He unclipped my bra and I shrugged it off my shoulders, pulling him in and being hyper aware of his skin on mine. 

He started to unbutton my shorts, but I stopped him, saying, "We can't."

"You're right," he admitted.

When we stopped, Zach stumbled back and leaned on the door, sliding down to sit on the floor. We were in the bathroom—we had no patience waiting for a bedroom.

"What the fuck," he said.

Reclipping my bra, I agreed shortly: "Yeah." I was starting to feel sober and consequently terrified.

Hands running through his hair, he muttered, "I'm never getting over you."

"But you knew that," I said, to which he remained silent. "Let's go, I need to find Scarlett. I feel sober all of a sudden and I cannot be in this house sober."

"Yeah, sure," he said, standing up. As we walked out, he repeated himself, groaning, "Today was a disaster."

And of course, we ran into Gabe. He slapped his palm to his forehead, laughing, "Not again."

"Zip it," I spat, causing him to put his hands up in surrender.

Zach was still stumbling a little, so Gabe said, "I'm taking him home. I saw Scarlett near the entrance. Don't get lost," he instructed.

But I did get lost. My head spun as I searched the crowd for her, or even a brother, but I came up short. And that's how I ended up here, legs unsteady, thinking about where I went wrong in the grand scheme of things.

"Today was a disaster," I mimicked, secretly feeling satisfaction: "I'm never getting over you." Duh!

Finally, I spotted her and nearly tripped running over to her. "Scarlett, I have to tell you something."

A red cup still in her hand, she slurred, "If you say it now, I'll forget it. Tell me in the morning?"

"Sure," I said, internally dying to say it. I linked our arms and headed to the car.