How To Live

Chapter Five

My alcohol-educed haze intensifies as the night goes on and I revel in the numbness that it provides.

For the past few hours Emily and I have been singing and dancing and I've laughed for the first time since Tommy died. While I know I should feel guilty for enjoying myself and for being so care free, right now I don't.

Tommy isn't here to enjoy tonight, so I'm going to enjoy it for him.

I make my way through the now extremely intoxicated crowd towards a table covered in alcohol to grab myself another drink, which I really don't need at this point. I've long since passed the threshold of tipsy and am on my way to being blackout drunk, which doesn't really bother me tonight.

I fill my red cup with warm beer that I can't even taste anymore and look around the crowd in search of Emily.

I spot her talking to one of the senior boys that played football with Tommy. I think his name is Jeff, or Greg or something. They are laughing and flirting so I leave them be and look around for someone else to talk to. It occurs to me now that I really have no one else, and suddenly this beer tastes sour and hanging out here alone doesn't seem so appealing anymore.

I make my way through the crowd of pulsating bodies and head towards the cars that are parked on the edge of the field, the music begins to fade and I stumble along, the beer sloshing from my cup as I weave towards where I think I parked Tommy's jeep. I figure I'll just head home for the night, or maybe even take a quick nap. I am winding my way through the maze of vehicles when I stumble upon an awkward argument, that I know I shouldn't listen too, but all thoughts of rationality and logic have left my mind at this current moment in time.

I guess I am trying to convince myself that I am just extremely drunk and that's a totally valid reason to crouch behind someone's giant jeep and listen to the sound of Wesley Martins voice, but I know that's total bullshit.

My drunken state is no excuse for this invasion of privacy, and as soon as I hear Wesley speak the fog in my head begins to clear a little and it feels like I am slightly sober, confused and also extremely curious.

I inch my way forwards, peeking out from my hiding spot in order to see who it is that Wesley is talking to.

Jenna Marshal comes into my line of sight, a graduating senior at Bolton High from the other side of the tracks. She is gorgeous with long dark hair, dressed in tight jeans and a low cut shirt paired with a leather jacket. She is pretty much every teenage guys ultimate crush, and every teenage girls arch nemesis because of her fantastic looks. She is leaning up against Wesley's car, a red cup hanging from her drooping hand.

Jenna and Wesley hang out together at school. She is part of his crowd, grew up on the other side of the tracks, she probably has a single parent too. To be honest, I don't know much about Jenna other than the fact that her and Wesley are very good friends. Perhaps they are even more than that. I assume they probably have some sort of friends with benefits agreement going on, that's the kind of guys Wesley is, or so I've heard.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Wesley exclaims as he rips the cup from Jenna's limp grasp and throws it across the field, it's contents spilling everywhere.

"I'm just trying to have a good time Wes, is that such a crime?" Jenna retorts, a slight slur in her voice.

"You don't get to have a good time anymore Jenna! Jesus, how selfish are you?" Wesley shakes his head and Jenna's eyes suddenly fill with tears.

"What do I do Wes? I don't know what to do!" She wails and he folds her in his arms as she begins to cry into his chest, his blue shirt slowly soaking through from her tears.