Noelle
I concentrate all my energy on giving my statistics homework the evil-eye before running my fingers through my hair and rubbing my eyes drowsily. A yawn. A stretch. Another yawn. Tired much, Noelle? I ask myself. Yes, I answer, too exhausted to realize it was meant as a rhetorical question.
"Uh, Noelle?" My roommate, Jeni nudges my shoulder and gives me a worried expression, "I don't really know how to say this, but your studying-I mean its great that you're studying-amazing really-but, its kind of...obsessive. Take a break every once in awhile. A chill pill...oh god, it sounds like I want you to do drugs. Don't do drugs. Don't-"
Jeni was two years older than I and because of this she thought it was her right and responsibility to be my college life mentor and mother. Sometimes that was a good thing, but other times...not so much.
"Jeni. It doesn't sound like you want me to do drugs, just calm down." I smile weakly.
"Noelle. Get out there. Be fun... For once. Just kidding. But, yeah, seriously."
"Okay. Fine," I close my textbook and take a precautionary measure by pushing it across the desk, out of reach, "Where do you want to go? To have 'fun'." I ask.
"Well, so, there's this party...tonight and..." She spoke fast with bugged-out eyes, very passionate on the subject. I kind of zoned out because, honestly, I knew that I didn't have much say in the matter; we were going to this party. No ifs, ands, or buts.
I wore a constricting blue dress. Mascara was heavily applied to my lashes and my eyelids drooped under the weight of layers of eye-shadow. The heels my feet were strapped to were very disorienting and hard to walk in. I looked like a hooker. I felt sympathy for hookers everywhere because I don't think I could live if I had to dress like this everyday. But then again, do they really have to dress like this everyday?
Once we arrived to the party, Ms. (Un)Responsible immediately asked me, "You're drinking age. Right?"
"Yeah, Jeni. Wait, why didn't you ask me before we got here?" I ask skeptically.
"Because I was hoping that you were, but," She lowers her voice, "It doesn't really matter."
"Wow. You know, a good mentor wouldn't be fine with underage drinking. Also, a good mentor would know that I'm a whole three years over. You should be ashamed of yourself." I tease.
"Oh, shut up."
I gasp animatedly.
I danced for a little, until beads of sweat rolled down my forehead and stains collected under my armpits. And then I drank two cups of beer... Or three...Four.... Somewhere in the four-ish range. And I discovered I have a very low tolerance level because I was completely wasted.
A familiar face looked at me amid the crowd of strangers.
"Weasley!" I shout to get the boy's attention as I push past bodies to get towards him.
"Hey," He replied, beer cup in hand.
"I'm very delighted to see you, Ronald." I poke my finger at his chest and laugh like an idiot.
"Um. Yeah. Are you pissed?" He asks bluntly and I check to see if I somehow peed without noticing.
"Nope. Urine free. See?" I point to my very dry dress, "Why did you ask, though?"
"No. Not like that.... I mean, are you drunk?" He tries again.
"Sort of," More idiotic laughter, "Can you tell? I don't do this often. Do you think I should do this more often? This is fun! Right?"
"No. Don't do this more often. It's not you." He looks at me with pity and disgust.
"Goddamn, why'd you have to kill my buzz? And, hey. Don't tell me what is and isn't me. Okay? I know me. You don't know me. You just..you just... You're a party pooper. Tha's what you're. Tahts what you. Re... You. Are. That's what you're. You know what? I don't need to speak perfetly. Jus get ou of my way."
"Noelle, look, I'm sorry. I like you more... When you aren't intoxicated." His eyes are caring. But his words sting. I don't know why they sting. They just do.
"Who are you? My grandfather? Probably. Because you use words like 'intoxicated' and you have a British accent, like grandfathers do. And you look like you enjoy reading the newspaper, like a grandfather. Hell, you probably are a grandfather. But, if you're a grandfather, then it would be so wrong for me to do this..." I kiss him fully on the lips. Tongue and all. I don't want to dwell too deeply on all the gory details, but, it was pretty awesome...
Until I vomited.
What happened?
You heard me, imaginary person asking questions in my mind, I vomited. I leaned back slightly and barfed all over his shoes.
