Too Much, Too Soon

Two

"You shitbags are making us late," Trè said as he stood near the door. "We have been ready for decades, you're the one that takes ages." He laughed, "okay, think how you want." I replied, teasingly, "you're such an asshole." He shrugged and smiled. "You two preschoolers knock it off," Mike said as he came out of the kitchen, hand in hand with Ashley, "where is he?" "Princess Billie still getting ready." I hit Trè on the arm," You're such a dumbass; your royal pain in the highn-ASS should go check and see what is taking him." He shrugged, "nah he'll be fine."

As soon as Trè, Mike and Ashley filed out of the door, Billie emerged from the hall. "Sorry, the shirt I had on was uncomfortable." I laughed and took his hand, "it's fine."

He and I climbed into the back of Trè's already packed car. "What the hell Trè? Do you live in here?" Mike said as he shifted the clutter around on the floor with his feet. Trè snickered, "nope," he sarcastically added, "I would live in here though, it's rather cozy."

Trè purposely drove like shit. He would take each corner sharply or would drive at least 10 miles per hour under the speed limit. "We would like to arrive today," Billie said lightly. "I've got to drive safely." In the rear view mirror, the sarcasm and assy-ness was visible in his eyes. He pulled the car up to the curb.

"Well, here we are." The doors immediately swung open. "Am I that bad at driving?" Mike shook his head, "hell yeah. Yes, you suck ass at driving when you do it on purpose." He shrugged and we all made our way to the front door.

Spencer still lived with his parents; the house was nice, extremely nice. Everything looked breakable. The floor to ceiling windows, the paintings on the walls and the ceramics on tables; if I threw something like this, I'd be killed. I imagine he would too.

"Glad you guys could make it," a tipsy Spencer greeted us after a random person let us into his home. His eyes wouldn't focus and he was sporting the brightest, ugliest orange shirt anyone had ever seen. "Yeah, thanks for inviting us," Billie said. "No problem," he replied as he looked up and down at me. Billie noticed and wrapped his arm around my waist; a defeated Spencer looked in disgust, rolled his eyes and walked away. "Be careful by him especially if he's drunk," Billie warned me into my ear. "Yeah, I will."

Mike, Trè and Billie immediately ran into some guys they knew and headed off with them, leaving Ashley and I alone. We sat on the couch. "This is kinda lame, not gonna lie," she said. I sighed, "yeah. I don't know most of the people here and the ones I do, I don't like." She nodded her head in agreement. Spencer waltzed over to us.

"Do you want to play a game?" He sat down by me and put his arm around my shoulders, I scooted to the right, away from him. "I don't really want to play a game." Ashley asked, "what is this 'game?'" He smirked, "oh you'll like it." Ashley looked eager, "I'll play. Since someone," she shot daggers at me, "decided to have a piss-poor attitude tonight." I defensively stated, "I'll play too. I don't have a piss-poor attitude." He smiled at us, "sweet."

He led us through the crowds. We made our way down the hallway to the spare bedroom; gathered were a group of 15 or so people around this already set-up 'game.'

I immediately recognized the game. "It's shot roulette; you know it, right?" I shrugged, "yeah." It was spin the bottle with shots, some alcoholic, some not. A girl with black/blue hair, her name is Natalie, looked at me and snorted, "yeah sure she does. She makes Mother Teresa look like a hellion." I ignored her. "Not gonna say anything are you? Mommy and daddy aren't here to buy your way out?" The group of people howled as Ashely and I took a seat. I glared at her and said, "I'm glad my parents aren't here. Plus, your inadequate comments are a waste of breath." She looked to the floor and the crowd laughed at her instead of me. "You're pretty funny," someone said to me; it was Spencer.  I nodded in acknowledgement.

"Ladys first," Spencer said to me. I opened my mouth to protest; I wasn't the only 'lady' present but I thought otherwise. I took the bottle and flicked my wrist. I watched in anticipation as it spun. It slowly came to a halt in front of the glass directly in front of me. I, from afar, observed the clearness of it. Water was clear so it could be that, right? I picked it up and drew it nearer to my face, everyone was watching me it seemed. As soon as the drink was under my nose, I could smell that it wasn't water.