Crestfallen

27: Can I Take My Shirt Off?

After what I thought to be six shots of vodka--though I'm not entirely sure--Liam and I stumbled up the stairs of Macy's house. The party was well-underway now and every room on the main floor was packed with people. "It's still too loud! Let's keep going," I yelled over the music, my concussion and headache were long forgotten after the third shot. I pulled Liam up the stairs and into the spare room Macy had lent to me when my dad first became an alcoholic. Once I closed the door behind us, the music quieted and we could finally hear ourselves think. I placed my bag on the floor and made sure I still had my phone with me.

"Let's play a game," Liam suggested a bottle of vodka in his hand. He walked over to the bed and flopped on it, spilling some vodka in the process.

"What game?" I asked with a giggle I couldn't control.

"We have to say whatever we are thinking, no holdbacks. You go first," he slurred, taking another swig of vodka.

"Hmm," I began as I walked over to the bed and took a seat beside him. "I never understood how traffic lights hang on those poles. Whenever I walk or drive under them they look like they're hanging from a tinyyyyy little piece of metal. Aren't they heavy? How does it workkk?" Liam laughed but didn't provide a response so I pouted.

"You're cute," he said bluntly though I suppose that was the point of the game. Another giggle escaped my lips.

"You're pretty cute too," I told him, taking the vodka from his hand and standing up abruptly. I swayed a little but caught my balance. I took a swig and grimaced. "Vodka is kinda gross. Why do people drink it?"

"To forget things," he told me with a somber look on his face. I thought there was a bit of stubble along his jaw but the edges of the world seemed to be getting fuzzy and I couldn't tell.

"What are you trying to forget?" I inquired, walking back towards the bed. I placed the alcohol by the foot of the bed before giving Liam my full attention.

"If I remembered, the alcohol wouldn't be doing its job, now would it?" he joked, giving me a lopsided smile. "What about you?"

"Well, my mom ran off with this guy named Dave, he was kind of an asshole. To me, anyway. My sister and I were really close, especially during their relationship. Her name is Valerie and she's twelve years old right now. Once they got married, they took my dad to court for our custody. Of course, they had a better lawyer since Dave owns a company or something-- I never really asked. The court granted them custody of Valerie and gave me to my dad. I promised I'd never let them take her but they went to Atlanta and I was sixteen, there was nothing I could do and there still isn't." Suddenly, everything started to come out in a rush. I wasn't sure if Liam was just easy to talk to or if the alcohol was hitting hard. "My mom came to my house last night, trying to take me away, claiming my dad was an unfit parent since he turned to alcohol once Valerie was taken away. I ran away and Jeremy let me stay with him until the morning--today--when I turned eighteen and it was legally my decision to go."

I hadn't noticed the tears flowing steadily down my cheeks until Liam was in front of me, his hands on my cheeks. I sniffled and let out a little laugh. "I guess the alcohol isn't doing its job, huh?" Suddenly I felt oddly sober. And increasingly aware of Liam's soft hands on my cheeks. Unconsciously, I leaned into his touch and closed my eyes.

"Your hands are soft," I whispered, slowly opening my eyes.

"Your cheeks are soft," he whispered back, rubbing the pad of his thumb against my skin. Our eyes met for a moment with an electric intensity that caused my stomach to drop as if I was on a roller coaster. Slowly, he lowered his forehead to mine and we sat there for a moment. Finally, he pulled away and faced the wall. "Why don't you contact your sister? Try talking to her."