Upside Down

Sixteen

I arrive at the location Peter somehow directed me to: a wild house party. What is an antisocial fifteen year old doing at one of these anyways?

I park the car and walk up the driveway, dodging empty solo cups, beer cans, bottles, and drunk teenagers on my way.

Inside, hundreds of wildly underaged teenagers raise their hands high in the air as the music pumps into their ears.

The music is loud. It thumps in my ears. With every move I make, I kick empty bottles and cups. Every time I blink and open my eyes, more people appear in the room. The room is so hot and sticky that I can barely take it anymore. I need to find Peter and get him out of here. He didn't call me in a panic for no reason.

He's in trouble and he needs my help. I'm not going to let him down.

I send him a quick text to see if he is able to tell me where he is inside this seemingly endless house. 

Everywhere I turn, people try to hand me drinks and get me to dance. I brush them off and continue my search for Peter. He is my only priority right now.

I send him another text and eagerly wait for his reply.

No reply.

I guess I am going to have to do this the hard way...

I shove my phone in my pocket and continue searching, becoming more and more worried with every minute that passes.

Peter wasn't specific about what exactly was wrong but he did say that he needed to get out of where he was.

I find a group of girls standing over Peter laughing about what they drew on his face with a marker. "Hey! Back off!" I shove them aside. They giggle and disperse into the crowd.

I bend down and smack his cheeks lightly. He groans. "Peter? Can you hear me? Peter?" I ask, hoping to get a response from the boy.

I grab his hands and stand him up. He drops his weight. I really wish I had some help right now. But I don't. I am going to have to do this by myself. I throw his arm over my shoulder and walk him out of the house.

Dodging trash and partygoers is pretty easy when you are doing it alone. But when you are dragging an unconscious teenager behind you, it's not so easy anymore. Peter and I bumped into anything and everything we possibly could have bumped into.

I open the back seat of my father's car and help Peter into the back. He lays across the seat. I sigh and climb in with him, buckling him up just in case. "Okay." I nod and grab my head. "Let's go home."

I climb into the front seat and start the drive home.

I pull the heavy boy out of the back seat and drag him inside the house. Let me tell you, it is not easy dragging a teenager up the steps without help.

Peter is out of it. Every once and a while he groans and wakes up but for the most part, he is passed out. I have never seen alcohol do this to someone before. I wonder if he was doing more than just drinking. If there are drugs in his system too, it could be the reason he was affected so badly.

We are going to have to have a serious conversation about this. He could have died tonight.

"Peter?" I ask once I have him safely in his bed. He opens his eyes halfway to look at me. "What made you call me to come get you?" I ask, curious. He hates me. I would have never thought I would be his hero one day.

"You were the only one who I thought wouldn't tell my mom."He replies, closing his eyes. "You hate her."

I nod. "You did the right thing by getting out of there Peter. I'm proud of you and I know your mom would be. But your secret is safe with me as long as you promise to talk to me about this tomorrow."

Peter nods, drifting to sleep.

"Get some sleep Peter." I kiss his sharpie-stained forehead.

I grab a wet washcloth from the bathroom and start cleaning his face off. I'm not sure if his mom knows he was at a party but if she didn't, the drawings on his face will definitely tip her off to it. I scrub his face as she sleeps off the alcohol in his system.

Authors note: what do you think?