Boys of West Denton ✓

chapter fifteen

tw: attempted SA

Harris

The room isn't spinning, but it certainly is fuzzy. There's a permanent lump in my throat, the one that's always there when I'm a little too drunk, but not "throw up" drunk. I kept getting invited to do shots with people, and I lost count after seven. I know I'm not doing too hot, but I also don't feel like I'm entirely in my body just now, so, sorry, I don't know what I'm doing.

I like drinking with friends more than drinking alone, but here I am. I'd even take my usual party buddy. I don't know if Liam knows about this party, or if he's at home sobering up like I'd hoped. Either way, I haven't seen him. Same with Saanvi and Seb.

"Hey," someone says, pressing a Red Solo cup into my palm, "water."

I don't want to drink water, and I know I shouldn't trust drinks from strangers, but who here would roofie me? I'm already fucked up anyways. And Seb is on the way. I'll be okay.

I chug the water. Most of it runs down the sides of my mouth, rushing straight down my neck and soaking my T-shirt. It's warm and musty and tastes a little too strongly of metal, but I don't even care. I set the cup down on the bookshelf next to me and stumble into the living room.

There's a crowd dancing in front of the Doorsey's fireplace. Some hip hop bullshit I hate listening to but never complain about. A girl I don't recognize slides up in front of me and bats up at me with wide, dark eyes. Her hair is long and stick-straight, reaching down past her waist, and her crop top showcases her ostentatious belly ring. Heh. Ostentatious. Good word. Seb word.

"You're cute," she shouts over what's probably Baby Keem.

"What?"

"You're cute!"

"Oh." I close my eyes because the room is closer to spinning now, but I find myself smiling. "Thanks."

"Do you know bachata?" she shouts.

"Do I what?" I stumble slightly. Someone next to me grabs my shoulders and pushes me back to standing. Everyone around us keeps on dancing. It's like I'm not even there.

She says it again, and I mumble, "I don't know," my eyes still closed.

She grabs my wrists and pulls my hands onto her waist. "Here, I'll show you."

I'm stumbling while she's trying to dance with me. It's too many steps forward, too many steps back. I can't keep my head on straight, and then the girl is turning around, bending over and dancing in front of me, and goddammit, doesn't she know I'm gay?

"I—I'm good," I try to tell her, but she doesn't seem to hear. She just keeps dancing, brushing up against me once and making me step back, and the room feels lopsided, and my head is light and heavy all at once. "I'm gonna.... I'm gonna go."

My hands flail out in front of me while I stumble to the kitchen island, where there's a shit ton of Trulies and a giant batch of jungle juice, among other kinds of alcohol, many of which I have already ingested.

"Hey, are you good?" someone asks. I glance up, and there's Evan, wearing exactly what he was earlier today at Paco's. "You're freaking sloshed, man."

"Evan," I say. "Hey." Bile rises up in my throat. I push it down.

"Have you had any water?" he asks.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm good. But, hey. Uh. Why, why did you cheat on Seb?"

The music keeps pounding. Everyone keeps dancing. But Even freezes. "What did you just ask me?"

"You cheated on Seb. With my friend. On your boyfriend."