Wide Open

t w e n t y o n e

I squeeze my body through a group of at least seven guys standing around approximately three girls, all fighting for their attention. I've honestly been eavesdropping from across the room, allowing myself to imagine a fight to the death breaking out over a girl who has been texting, no doubt another guy the entire night. This party is an entire sausage fest with all of the guys dressed as if they are auditioning for a Saving Private Ryan sequel.None of them holding a candle to Matt Damon in his prime.

I almost gag as I slide by the last member of the group, sweat from his forearm grazing the skin of my stomach that is exposed where my shirt ends and before my jeans begin. He seems to feel it too because he turns to face me and smiles and mouths what I can only assume is a line that would earn him a swift kick to the balls that I am thankful I can't hear over the volume of the music.

Instead I mouth fuck off and push my way into the kitchen. I finally spot Alyssa sitting on the counter with an army ranger in between her legs, his hands firmly on the counter on either side of her.

"Do you have a UTI or something that I should be concerned about?" I ask as I approach them. "You went to the bathroom forty minutes ago and never came back."

"Camryn! I have been looking for you! This is my friend Alex that I told you about," She says. Both statements are a lie, but her eyes are so glossed over it probably doesn't register that she is sitting down and in no shape to be looking for me.

"Guys this is my roomie Camryn. I told you she was pretty, Justin," Alyssa slurs. I assume Justin is the friend of the guy that Alyssa is now hanging on to, her arms slung around his shoulders. Justin scoots closer, giving me a once over as he leans in to say something. I hold up my hand in his face to stop him before he can even begin, "Save it for someone who cares." Justin brushes it off by acting like he was trying to walk past me to get to the fridge. I turn my attention back to Alyssa who has her head thrown back in laughter.

"I told you she was funny too!" she yells to the ranger.

"Alyssa, I think we should go," I say, entirely too sober for this.

"Yes! We should go to the bars!" She yells over the music.

"No, we should go home. To sleep." I mimic laying my head onto my hands, just in case her auditory function is too drunk to understand. Maybe her visual processing still works. Considering the guy she chose tonight though, probably not. So I turn towards him again and add, "Alone."

"Nooooooooo! I want to go dancing at the club. Come on, it will be fun!"

"Getting an STD from a toilet seat is not on my agenda for the night," I say.

"Well fine, but we're going," She tuts.

I ask the ranger for his phone and make it look as if I am putting my number in it. Really I am sharing his location with myself so I can at least keep track of him and Alyssa. Or stalk him if something happens to her.

"Good luck," I mouth to her, or to both of them really, before moving to the door in the kitchen that leads to the back yard. I pass two girls, one throwing up, the other holding her hair, and am once again thankful that I've had one beer and can walk out of here with my head held high.

I make out of the alley, and onto the main street before pulling out my phone deciding to text Gabi.

Me: Looked cute tonight, too bad no one could see me. I sent along a picture of myself I snapped in the bathroom back at the house.

Gabriella Brown loved an image

Gabriella Brown: I hope you're sending this from a party OR post sex with a random guy you met at the party

Do I tell Gabi that I am currently walking home to watch The Real Housewives at, I check the time at the top of the screen, eleven fifty seven pm instead of going to a bar? If she weren't out herself she would call and lecture me. Actually if she's had enough to drink she will call and lecture me anyways, all of which will be ineligible at a volume that blows my phone speakers out.

Me: The night is just starting :) I send instead.

My stomach drops at the idea of lying to her. Although she can probably already tell I'm lying. She has a sixth sense for that, but I at least want to give the illusion that I am trying to, maybe, possibly, think about putting myself out there.

Gabi sends back a GIF of Will Ferrel in Elf saying You sit on a throne of lies!

I chuckle into my phone because Elf is one of my favorite movies. It reminds me of the first Christmas Gabi and I watched it. We then made it our mission to recreate the horrible concoction of dessert spaghetti that is Buddy's specialty. We lied to my mom and told her that we were making Christmas cookies for everyone, but instead cooked two pounds of spaghetti noodles and then froze them into cookie shaped lumps.

"We have to make our own spin on it," Gabi had declared, "An original, nobody likes a copycat."

After freezing the lumps we covered them in a ridiculous amount of sprinkles, syrup, chocolate syrup, and all of the candy we could find in both of our pantries. Not even bothering to take into consideration the level of disgusting that is to mix chocolate and fruity candy. We then served them to our family. Who thought we were joking, very quickly changing their tune when we forced them to take at least one bite.

I stare at the gif again and I try to imagine what Gabi would actually say if she were here now, and not in stupid Tennessee. I know she would tell me that I don't have to go to another party or the bars, but she would tell me it's too early to go home. She would find some other adventure for us to go on, another one of her senses. The ability to turn a quick Google search into a core memory. A vast variety of places and things like hookah bars, midnight movies, or a twenty four hour skating rink after our Senior Prom.

I pause in the middle of the sidewalk, looking up from my phone for a second to take in my surroundings, taking my own mental advice. I think WWGBD. What would Gabi Brown do in this situation?