Count On Me

Party Girl

FRIDAY, AUGUST 19, 2016 | 9:20 PM | FOUR

I arrive more than an hour late to the party, even though Zeke told me to be early and help set up. These are my new roommates, after all. And maybe I would have, despite the tension whenever I'm home with Uriah and Tris, if the Pedrads hadn't invited Nita to the party.

If I had never seen that girl again in my life it still would have been too soon, but then she showed up at my apartment. Keeping from being anywhere private with her seemed like a smart idea until she asked, in front of everyone, for her bra. At least, in the end, I managed to get out of picking her up tonight, or even forfeiting my phone number.

I lied when I told her I had to work late, hoping she would find something else to do tonight. No such luck. Nita must have been watching for my arrival, because she is hanging off my arm before I make it two yards from the front door.

"Finally! Took you long enough," Nita whines. "Come on, let's dance." She tries to drag me toward the makeshift dance floor but I dig my heels into the floor.

"No," I say firmly, yanking my arm from her grasp. "I wanna get a drink."

"Fine," Nita huffs. "Bring me something fruity."

I bite my tongue, at least this gets me out of dancing for now. I look around as I make my way to the kitchen, somehow resisting the impulse to bring her Lynn's friend Kyle instead of a drink.

Usually at these parties, Zeke's living room is packed with people grinding against each other, but tonight the music was quieter than usual and it seemed that most of the guests were gathered in a circle playing "never have I ever."

Most of my friends are here ― Zeke and Shauna, of course; Al, Edward and Myra, Shauna's sister Lynn, and Lynn's friends Marlene, Kyle and Amy. I would have expected Will and Christina to be among the few on the dance floor, but it seems even Chris has been drawn into the game. Of them all, I'm really only close with Shauna and Zeke. I also see Peter, Molly and Drew, who must have been invited by Al. There are a few Zeke's and my coworkers, Sean, Brady and Alison, but so far no sign of Eric, Zeke's old roommate. Christina refers to Eric as our "frenemy," but he and I openly hate each other.

In the kitchen, I find a bottle of hard lemonade for Nita (still probably not as fruity as Kyle) and grab a local microbrew from the back of Zeke's fridge, where I knew the containers of leftovers would be obscuring Zeke's private stash from the view of other partygoers. I pop the tops off the glass bottles and as I make my way back to deliver Nita's drink, my attention is on the game taking place in the corner of the room. I quickly notice that Tris must have been one of the first out of the game as her five shots are already empty, and I watch as she continues to play anyway, taking large swigs straight from a bottle of tequila when someone called out something she had done. (Which was almost always.)

I have been occupied most of the week with work and studying, but it hasn't stopped me from noticing everything about Tris when I am home. Each night I have witnessed varying degrees of intoxication, from slightly buzzed the first few nights, to falling on her ass as she stumbled down the hall last night, but this is the first time I've actually seen her just nurse a bottle of straight liquor. And she looks perfectly comfortable at this party. Every now and then, seemingly at random, everyone shouts together indecipherably and throws back a shot or a pull of their beer. Each time, Tris settles further into Uriah's lap and takes a big gulp from her now half-empty fifth of Jose Cuervo.

I remember the first time I took Beatrice to a party in high school, near the end of my junior year. I was anxious about the event, as parties have never been my scene. But for once I wanted to take my girl out and show her off like all my classmates seemed to do. As far as I was concerned, I had been lucky enough to win the affections of the most beautiful, sweetest, smartest girl in school. Even if she was only a freshman. Beatrice cringed at every sip of alcohol and was just as uncomfortable with the the rowdy atmosphere as I was. We left after only an hour when Beatrice discovered Lisa Taylor, a cheerleader who had often been cruel to Tris in the past, wasted in a corner with a tear-streaked face. I never found out what had Lisa so upset ― whatever Lisa had confided, Beatrice kept it to herself ― but we left only an hour into the party, at Tris's request, to give Lisa a ride home. We didn't go back. Tris said she couldn't imagine that she would ever feel comfortable in a place where people acted so careless and stupid, and as long as I knew her, she never did.