Never Have I Ever - Round 3
The game continued on into the night, but by the time she wondered what time it was, Abby couldn't read her watch. For only the second time in her life, she was wasted. Before them on the table, they'd racked up over twenty empty bottles. Sommer had five and was swimming in her seat, remaining upright through a combination of miracle, will, and Dex's support. Dex had a modest four and seemed pleased with himself; Hedges had two and did not. She had three, and was on her fourth, unless her eyes were deceiving her- and they were, as much of the table pulsed in and out of focus.
King had them all beat at six and still counting, his seventh sliding down his throat as she watched, a confession to Sommer's "I never have never been used for sex." Abby blinked dry eyelids, incredulous as he shoved away his seventh and, unfazed, reached for his eighth and, with a rapt audience, proceeded to chug the whole thing.
"And that," he toasted the eighth bottle as it rolled away from him, "was only for Danica."
"You're drunk," Sommer slurred.
King ignored her, and the game played on, with him switching to the tequila for a couple of rounds. Vaguely, Abby heard the words "I never," and let her brain run on autopilot. It was easier to be truthful when good and thoroughly smashed.
I never slept with my friend's girlfriend or boyfriend. Dex, her, Sommer.
I never slept with a member of the same sex. Sommer and King. This woke her out of her stupor.
"Details," Abby said to King at the same time as Hedges and Dexshouted the same at Sommer.
"Ladies first," King graciously allowed.
"Let's see," Sommer tapped her lip.
"Oh God, more than once, thank you, thank you, God," Hedges prayed, setting Sommer to giggling drunkenly.
"I made out with a lesbian friend of mine. We fell asleep on her couch." Hedges looked crestfallen at this news, and Sommer could tell by his despondent sigh that she had disappointed. "What? You said 'slept'! I was be-being literary."
"Literal, baby," Dex cooed to her, brushing her hair with the back of his hand.
"Literal," Sommer hiccuped. "But I'm not the only one who had to drink, right?"
"That's right," Abby nodded, and all heads turned in King's direction. Hedges and Dex both appeared confused. King had racked up bottle after bottle on females. Where had this come from? Sommer, however, seemed as keen and as interested as she was. "Spill, King."
"Are you a top or a bottom?" Sommer babbled, trilling.
"Bottom!" Hedges barked, laughing. King shrugged, taking the comment on the chin, shifting and moving his chair closer to Hedges. Abby sniggered as Hedges blanched and backed away-if he wasn't careful, he was in for a beating.
"I'm neither," King dismissed the question and drank, but they weren't letting him get off so easily.
"You slept with a dude," Dex said, flatly.
"Sure."
"As in Sommer-slept-with-a-girl or as in took-a-shot-in-the-mouth?"
Unfazed, as ever, King replied, honestly, "As in had sex with another guy."
"More," Abby thumped her beer bottle on the table.
"No," he said, glancing at her, "If all we get is 'enough to count as cheating' from you, Whistler, all you get is 'enough to count as sex' from me." Sommer groaned and pouted. "Turnabout's fair play, ladies." Though he laughed, Abby felt distinctly unnerved; it wasn't just revenge. Maybe it was the beer messing with her head, but he wasn't happy-smiling, was he?
"Uh, where were we?" Hedges cut in, eager to get back on track. Abby resumed listening to the game with only half an ear, her mind still working away at the mystery flicker of wrongness in her partner's whole demeanor.
I never dropped E. All but Hedges.
I never fucked someone whose last name I never knew. Her, Dex, Sommer. Then, I never fucked someone whose name I didn't know period. Just Dex. He took the catcalls and whooping with stylish modesty, assuring them all it was only once, and doubly reassuring Sommer who appeared put out about this revelation.
I never fucked more than one person at the same time. King.
The reverence returned to Hedges and Dex's faces at this revelation. He elaborated with the names of two girls from the sister-sorority of his frat at college, miming with his hands a few of the positions they'd assumed, exaggerating the length of the session, generally giving too many details for her to keep track of. Then, he started in on the second time he'd been in a party of more than two, and Hedges just about burst a blood vessel in his forehead before Sommer demanded they move on.
"Or else we'll be here all night."
"You're not wrong about that, Sommer." More hooting and mock bows in King's direction.
I never wanted to be a vampire-that one sobered the inebriated crew in a bad way until King countered it with "Never have I ever liked what I do for a living," where they all drank, heartily, lustily, earnestly.
Most of the 'I never's continued to revolve around sex, thereby lightening the mood, though the occasional biographic probe might pop up. I never had a sibling. I never lost a family member-everyone drank to that. I never lost a loved one to a vampire. It went right back down the lewd track, however, and stayed there. In a short period of time, Abby learned and forgot things about her friends she really didn't need, and in some cases, want, to know. Dex cleaned up on the drugs and guns questions, Hedges on the masturbation ones, Sommer on sex, King on anything and everything.
"Never have I ever wanted to know this much about any of you," Abby groaned, dropping her head, squinting at her watch pointedly.
"Abby," Sommer whined, "it's not your turn."
"And it's only just after midnight, Whistler," King informed her, tilting her wrist towards him so he could read it. He had his own watch but seemed preoccupied with using hers instead.
"Pissed out of my mind this early," Abby mumbled into the table. "So lame."
The game didn't stop because of inebriation. Hedges egged them on, wanting desperately to catch up. His 'I never's skewed to the increasingly personal, but, fortunately, alcohol took the edge off his embarrassment and theirs for him. It meant he caught up, and that was okay.
"I've never watched hard core porn with another person." Hedges choked on his beer as he attempted to drain his something-th bottle. Sommer coughed as beer went up her nose, Dex tending to her with a firm but gentle pat on the back. His hand stayed on her shoulder, massaging it, and the poorly drunk doctor leaned into his arm. The game went on while its first victim, Sommer, snored.
I never had sex in a car. All but Hedges.
I never walked in on a relative. All but her.
I never did it in a theater, in a school, in a church--and, boy, had King gotten her sourest look for drinking on that last one; she'd debated slapping him, but she rather figured he'd enjoy it. He seemed to enjoy just about anything and everything else, as they'd discovered.
I never did it in a bathroom, on someone else's bed, outdoors, in a pool, standing up, on the floor, with toys, role-playing, while someone else slept in the room, and so on. Here, there, everywhere. With green eggs and ham.
Dex excused himself when Sommer woke, disoriented and sickly. Sympathetically, they all wished her well, until Sommer turned as Dex was helping her to the toilet and flashed them all a brilliant smile and a thumbs up. Her wobbly legs worked a little too well at stumbling such that she fell against Dex every other step. They disappeared from sight, and the bathroom door slammed shut, the whump of it reverberating in Abby's skull.
Hedges clapped his hand over his heart. "God bless her." Before she could make sense of the import behind his words, there came a decidedly dirty series of thumps from the bathroom, and one high-pitched giggle-squeal. Hedges sighed, drinking outside of the game and toasting his beer in the direction of the noises.
Abby gawked at him. "They're not doing what I think they're doing, are they?"
"Princess," Hedges' head jerked about in a drunken approximation of disbelief. "They've been doing what you think they're not doing."
Stunned, she looked at King for confirmation. He shrugged. "That's what I figured."
"How the hell come no one tells me? Sommer's my best friend!" She shrieked, and King placed a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to keep it down. Impossible. She knew Sommer better than anyone else save, maybe, Zoe. No way. This was alcohol and hormones, raised to untenable levels by the stupid game. Which was stupid fucking King's fault. No way some new guy knew more about her friends than her, and she would prove it.
She jumped unsteadily to her feet but swatted at King when he shot out an arm to support her. The world spun around her as momentum carried her body along the trajectory of her missed hook. Instead of an unpleasant thud, she landed with a soft grunt, not her own, and King was above her. Or, two of him were, and wasn't that a frightening thought? Two Kings. Heaven help her.
"Easy there, Whistler. I think you've had enough."
"Bastard," she jerked around in his arms, freeing her hand and slapping him full in the face. King took the blow with the good humor of the sober dealing with the drunk and without releasing her. He readjusted, shifting under her, one arm looping under her knees and dragging her up to sit on his lap.
"Let me go," she ordered, still squirming. King's unwelcome aid, Sommer's secret love affair, it was all too much. And the only way she knew how to respond when things were too much was to hurt someone.
"As the lady wishes," King acquiesced, picking her up, princess-style, like what Hedges called her. With great care, he deposited her back in her seat, straining as she flopped against him. Back in her chair, the world moved a little more slowly around her, and she could almost center herself. She gripped her beer, half-empty, and laughed. Half-empty. Her mother always said she'd been a born pessimist.
"If I weren't such a gentleman," Hedges leered across the table at her, "I'd take advantage of this, Abby."
"You'd wake up with no testicles, Hedges." Maybe Sommer liked getting into that kind of trouble while drunk, but not her. That's what it had to be. Too much drink, Dex's kind solicitation all evening, that explained it. It didn't have to be a long-term romance or serial tryst. Right?
"I don't doubt it," he muttered. To King, he said, "Where were we?"
"I don't think you're that much better off than her, man. But it's your turn if you want to prove otherwise."
Hedges did, and Abby closed her eyes as he deliberated on another 'I never' to pose to their reduced group. In the foggy silence, a loud clatter from the bathroom could be heard clearly. Hedges giggled to himself.
"I've never filmed others having sex." He didn't drink at first, but when another series of thuds from the opposite end of the base filled up the pause, he raised his bottle to his lips. "But I might have to start."
"Come on, Hedges, you can do better than that," King goaded him, drinking and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Never have I ever filmed myself having sex." He swilled down his ninth bottle. "Damn, I'm out."
"Hah," Abby pointed a finger that moved wildly of its own accord from his face to his chest to his arm. "You're drunk, too."
"No, Abigail," King shook his head, the motion a blur. "I mean I'm out of beer."
"Have mine," she swung her arm around, the one with the bottle. He caught it, easily, before her clumsy fingers could send it toppling and spilling into his lap.
"Thanks," he set it aside and waved the amber tequila at her. "I've got more." She let her head fall onto her arms; the swinging bottle made her dizzy, and the world kept spinning when she closed her eyes, making it worse. In the swirling dark behind her eyelids, she could still imagine Dex and Sommer, could picture it, twenty-twenty hindsight, the works. How could she not have known? It made her green just thinking of it.
How could she not have known...
