ALL GOOD THINGS MUST DIE PT. II
❝ she doesn't want you anymore, man. ❞The sun has long disappeared, and the only light illuminating the kegger is the bonfire and the moon reflecting off the ocean.
I sit alone on a log near the edge of the water, a considerable distance away from the rest of the party, red solo cup still in hand. Unfortunately, it's now empty for the eighth time tonight. Maybe even the ninth. I don't know. I lost count. But what I do know, is that I did, in fact, get very fucked up. Rafe left me with no other choice. I had to distract myself from him somehow.
I've engaged in a lot of distractions tonight, actually. I played drinking games with JJ and a group of Tourons, in one of which, I competed with JJ to see which of us could chug away the contents of our cups faster. I won. Everyone cheered and a bunch of random guys lifted me off the ground, flaunting my victory as they carried me around above their heads. JJ didn't seem to like that very much. I danced my heart out with Kie. Already being pretty tipsy at that point, I probably didn't have the best moves. I also attempted to flirt with a few hot guys that John B ultimately chased away. He's such a party pooper.
The distractions seem to have worked... sort of.
I'm not thinking about Rafe at all, but my original plan of escaping all the shit on my mind turned out to be a bust. That's why I'm over here all by myself. I just need to think. In the midst of the crowd, I couldn't hear my own thoughts above all the noise, but nevertheless, the thoughts still lingered, eating away at me. I can still hear the chatter and music from where I sit now, but it's not nearly as loud.
Staring out at the waves that lap the sand just before my feet, all I can think of is my father. John B was right. He is out there somewhere. I still don't believe he's alive, but he's definitely still out there. Probably washed up on a deserted beach somewhere, bloated and decaying, similar to Scooter Grubbs. I just can't get the morbid mental image out of my head.
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