"Have you been drinking?" Craig said, but he knew Sean had been drinking. He could smell it.
"No. Yeah, well, a little. Hey, you wanna drink, too?"
Craig's eyes widened. He shouldn't. He wouldn't have, either, if he still lived with his dad. But he lived with Joey now.
"Why, you have some?" Craig said, lowering his voice. Sean could hardly hear him over the noise of the party.
"No, but look around, man. You think the Brookses don't have a stash of top shelf liquor?"
Craig's eyes darkened, thinking of his father's stash of top shelf liquor. Bombay Sapphire Gin, that square bottle, a baby blue. Dewar's vodka, aged scotch, hundred dollar bottles of wine. Thinking of how he had warned him to stay away from it. His father hadn't locked it up and he didn't need to. The threat of the belt was lock enough.
He shook his head, pushing the memories away.
"Uh, sure, why not?"
Sean smiled and headed over to the bar, glanced around for Jimmy. Jimmy's back was safely to them, and Sean grabbed a bottle, poured out half of his soda and Craig's, dumped in the alcohol.
"Here you go. Bottom's up,"
Craig smiled, took a sip, made a face. Sean laughed.
"Keep drinking. You won't mind the taste,"
Craig drank, and started to feel warm and happy, felt a lessoning of the tension that was always inside him. The knots were loosening. Before he knew it his bottle was empty. He snuck over to the bar, got some more. Looked around for Sean and saw him in the middle of the room with Emma. He headed toward him.
Sean held a bottle of liquor and dropped it, it smashed into broken bits of glass and alcohol spreading on the hardwood floor.
"Is this what you do?" Jimmy said, suddenly in between them, "steal liquor from my parents' house?"
Jimmy's brow furrowed in anger, and Craig saw Ashley beyond him all dressed in black. She was so pretty.
"Have you been drinking, too?" Jimmy said, turning on him. Craig swallowed hard.
"Uh, no…I-"
"Yes, you have. You're drunk, too. Get out, both of you. Just get out,"
"C'mon," Sean said, grabbing his arm, pulling him with them. Emma trailed behind them.
Outside, sitting on the bench by the parking lot, the night air cool and wet, the world spinning. Emma took out her phone.
"Who're you calling?" Craig said, and Sean noticed the almost terror in his voice, the fear in his eyes.
"My mom," Emma said.
"No," Craig said.
"Why?" Emma said, peering at him. He stood up and paced, ran his hand through his hair, making his bangs stand up.
"No, she'll tell Joey I'm drunk, I can't, he can't know,"
Emma and Sean just stared at him.
"I can't go home," Craig said, and started walking away.
"Hey, man, where are you going?" Sean said, catching up to him.
"I don't know. But I'm not gonna be here when Emma's mom shows up,"
"Craig, she won't be mad. She'll drive you home," Emma said.
"No! Joey can't know I'm drinking or he'll.."
"He'll what?" Sean said, steering him back to the bench. Drunk, Craig's eyes filled with tears and spilled over.
"He'll what?" Sean said again.
"He'll hit me…" his chest hitched and he turned away.
"Craig, Joey doesn't hit you, does he?" Emma said, trying to get him to look at her. He wiped the tears with the back of his hand.
"No," he said.
"Listen, he'll probably be mad. Maybe he'll ground you or something, but he's not going to hurt you," Emma said, her voice patient.
"How…how do you know? I'm drunk and he said not to drink, not to even think about touching the liquor cabinet, he said…"
"Who? Joey said that?" Emma said.
"No, my dad. And he'll, Joey might get mad enough to, to have to hit me,"
"Craig, no. Look, Joey isn't like your dad. Okay? He won't hit you no matter what you do. Not everyone is like your dad was,"