Thicker Than Paper

Liquor

Sinful and wicked. Golden liquid. Taste on my lips, bring me peace. I take the crumpled crane from my pocket, placing it with a sort of choppy movement. The wind howls and blows the crane away. Just like my emotions. My will to fucking live.
~~~
We won. No surprise. The boys wouldn't even let me lose if I tried. We won. Which means its celebration time. Wane lives on a nine-acre ranch. Nine acres to fuck up with one single party. I pull up with Andrea in the passenger's seat, fixing her lipstick or something. I suck in a deep breath, with my eyes closed, feeling my lungs expand. Then let it all out. One more time, then my eyes flip open. I pull out the keys to my blue 1993 ford f150.

I watch Andrea pucker lips, and check herself out in the car's visor, before flipping it up and getting out without even a thought of me. I roll my eyes and climb out of the car myself. From about half a mile away, you can hear the base pounding enough to ruin one's eardrums. I crack my knuckles, gravel crunching under my boots. Crunch, crack, crunch, crack.

"Ew, stop." Andera orders with a frustrated grunt. I am surprised she's not breaking her ankles in the heels she is wearing. A little tiny piece of me-deep down inside-wishes she would. That'd be a damn good reason not to go to this stupid party. I almost smirk at that thought. I shudder when I realize what I just thought about. How can one person be the most fuck up person ever?

After a long walk, we come to the blaring backyard. Grinding, chugging, music blaring louder than you can comprehend. My head hurts from only being here mere seconds. I rub the bridge of my nose, take Andera's hand, and enter the swarm of sweaty bodies. We weave, dodging people to find our way to the bar.

The boys of the team are there, and when they see us walk up, they cheer, sloshing their whiskey, or beer, or whatever the hell they're drinking. I plaster a smile on my face, holding back winces from the smacking of my back. Ace hands me a drink, that I eagerly chug.

"Damn, P, calm down. We have all night to get fucked up! The night is young!" Ace is your classic 'boy next door'. Shaggy fawn hair, deep brown eyes, and a boyish smile that could hook anyone. He's my favorite. Somehow, he was the most innocent. Nicest, that's for sure.

T. J.'s my second favorite. He was a classic 'sports god'. Tall, cheeky smile, and glittering green eyes. Probably the most popular of the school, behind me of course. We were once close, but now it feels he like he's always fighting me to be most popular. T. J. rounds the corner, a big, fat smile planted on his face. I try to mirror it as he pulls me into a 'bro hug'. I welcome it eagerly, dropping Andera's hand it a split second. Like most other boys, he smells like Irish Spring and a mix of Old Spice.

"P, my man, good win! That last pitch," he lets a whistle out from between his teeth, "man, I don't think anyone expected that!" I shrug as a smile stays smugly on my face. "Another for the star!" at this point I can't tell if this is all an act or authentic.

I gladly take another red solo cup, and a rolled up blunt. Chug, puff. Chug, puff. I greet the drug and alcohol filled haze. I'm so fucking out of it, I actually make out with Andera, without fully gagging. She runs her well-manicured hands through my hair. Gripping and pulling. I don't even have any idea where we are right now. Are we still outside? Have we made our way to a bedroom? I hold her head up, sucking her neck. She moans, and thrusts her head back, giving me full welcome to do whatever the hell I want.

She snakes her hands up and under my shirt, scratching my back. I hold back the winces, and make my way back to her neck. Suddenly, like a needle in the heart, something wears off and I realize what I'm doing. I pull back quickly, and rub her red lipstick off my dry lips. 

"What the fuck, Phoenix?" She spits, her temper suddenly low.

"Not tonight, Dre." I rub my hands against my eyes, trying to rid the blur and the already forming migraine.

"Not tonight? You say that every fucking night!" Her eyes are no longer blue, but an evil grey that shakes my stomach.

"I think you've had to much to drink," I say, my own words slurred. She lets out a gasp, shoots up from the lawnchair we were sitting on (turns out we were still outside) and gives me a hard slap on the cheek.

Everyone around me gasps, my skin stinging. My hand instantly holds my face, covering it from any further damage she might do.

"Fuck you, Phoenix." I'll I hear is her high heel sandles click away.

"Shit, dude, what'd you do?" Carper Swiwt whispers to me, as I rise from the lawn chair.

"I wasn't feeling like fucking a slut tonight. I'm sure you're not feeling the same way, though." I mutter, pushing through the crowd back to my car. Crunch, crunch.

For some reason I'm mad. Fucking pissed, actually. She thinks she can fucking decide when and where we screw? Like I have no fucking say in it? My fists ball up, and by the time I'm at my truck, all I can do is punch it. I punch the metal, not caring the damage its doing to the truck nor my knuckles. I punch, crunch crunch crunch. A hand holds my shoulder, and I whip around to see Ace, with a concerned look on his face.

"Phoniex, dude, what the hell? What happened back there and what are you doing?" He points to my now bloody knuckles. They sting like my cheek.

I stare at him, his eyes wide, mine narrow, "did you know she's fucking Carper? Mhm? Yeah, that's why she always late at lunch. Bails on classes, on dates. To fuck that motherfucker!" I scream, pointing back at the party. There really is no reason for me to be so passionate about this all right now. Its not like I love her, hell, I can barely stand her. Weeks of no sleep is catching up to me. 

Ace is shocked by my words, not saying anything. I just stare at him, listening to the music of the party and the song of the crickets. To make matters worse, I see Carper descend the hill, making his way to the two of us.

"Oh for fuck sakes," I mutter under my breath and turn to get in my car.

"Phoenix, dude, I don't know what that was back there. But I swear, I have no idea what you're talking about." His voice is so calm I almost believe him.

I turn back and find him in close range of me. Everything catches up to me, all the shit I've held back for so damn long. All the crap I take, all the shit I go through. All the alcohol in my blood. My fists clench, my teeth grind. One to the face. Two. Three.