been a while, eh? we've been busy, had writer's block, etc…this story's almost finished. we promise…next chapter will be up sooner than this one was. we promise that too. read and review, ok?
-Kristine and Cimmy

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Chapter 33: Tequila
By NYgoldfish54

Luis's POV

I've discovered something tonight that won't be terribly useless when I go back to Miami. Tequila is an evil thing. An evil, evil, terribly evil thing.

I'm lying on the floor of Goldberg, Kenny, and Russ's room. I think. Fulton was lying next to me before, but Chris is there now. I'm listening to the music and staring at the ceiling, while Chris is singing along.

"And the sign said 'long haired freaky people need not apply'
so I tucked my hair up under my hat and I went in to ask him why
he said 'you look like a fine, upstanding young man, I think you'll do'
so I took off my hat and said 'imagine that, huh, me working for you?"

"You don't have long hair," I tell Chris, yanking his short hair.

"I know. It's part of the s-song," he slurs. "Could you not p-pull my hair anymore, p-please?"

"Oh sorry," I mumble. I think I'm drunker than I thought.

Chris goes back to singing. It's amazing how his singing isn't slurred but his regular talking is. Suddenly he sits up and bolts. I peel my head off the floor and catch a glimpse of him dashing into the bathroom. I bet he went to hurl. He was completely smashed.

I pry my own body from the floor, intent on returning on my room to sleep. I think it's 4:30 AM. Along the way I see Fulton and Portman making out, Connie and Guy making out, Anna and Averman hooking up, Sammie and Dwayne kissing passionately, Matt glaring daggers at the pair of them, Jeff and Julie asleep, Russ and Kenny look sober-ish, and Goldberg and Banks are leaning on each other, sound asleep. I don't see Anthony, but I know he's here…ah yes, there he is. He's sleeping under the desk.

I hit the music on my way out. It's unnecessarily loud.

I'm heading back to my room, but decide to check on Fred and Cecilia. I put my ear to the door, but don't hear anything. They must be alright.

I get to my room, fumble with my key card, open the door and drop down on my bed. Am I drunk? I can't tell. But I feel sick. Tequila is an evil thing.

I'm lying on my bed, so of course, I'm unable to fall asleep. Instead I'm going to go for a for a night time stroll. I walk out of my room and notice all this garbage on the floor of our hall way. Then, coming from the vicinity of the party suite, I hear a crash. This hotel is never going to let us back again, ever.

I'm walking past Lex's room. She must be in there with Charlie, as we haven't seen them since…well, before 2:30 AM.

I hear somebody yelp, and because it was so high and girlish I'm going to assume it was Lex. I chuckle to myself. Lex is pretty smart, talented with something, and good looking. Not hot or exceptionally beautiful, but good looking. Old Charlie didn't do too badly for himself.

I have to admit, of all the people I thought who would end up screwed (literally) this week, I didn't think it would be Charlie. I though it would be me, or Adam, or Portman even…well, before I found out he was gay. He's gay! Hahaha! Him and Fulton! And they're with each other. It's incredible! I just never guessed. I'll never be able to understand what they don't see in girls, but if they're happy, hey, good for them.

What's really interesting is that I've always been told by the Catholic Church that being gay was wrong, and I used to think that I thought it was. But now that it's Fulton and Portman, I can't bring myself to believe what they do is wrong. I guess it's different when it's two people you love that are close to home, and not just a random minority statistic located 'somewhere out there.' They're Fulton and Portman, for God's sake! There can't be anything wrong with them. There just can't be. If there's something wrong with them, then there's something wrong with all of us.

Anyway, back to Charlie. I can't believe he's gotten laid this week. And he's got a girl who likes him, and probably has since she met him. I cannot believe this. It's just so…not the norm, I guess, is the right phrase. Plus, he's the one always preaching 'best behavior' and now this? It's so not typical.

I mean, come on, it's Charlie. If it was Banks or Dwayne or me or Ken, at least you could argue that he was attractive in some way or another. Oh wait, Dwayne doesn't qualify here. He's into that other girl, the blond, Sammie. He must be being rewarded for something. I wonder what wonderful thing he's done to have karma like that?

Actually, a better example of 'who is being rewarded for something in a past life' would be Averman. How'd he get a pretty chick like that Eukovich girl? That girl is gorgeous. At least I think so. Dark hair, blue eyes, fair skin, nice figure…obviously Russian or Eastern European. Then it's Averman. The guy has reddish, curly hair, is sort of dorky looking, and wears huge ass glasses. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that Averman got a pretty girl. I mean, he's funny and all, but really, Averman? He must have something I'm not giving him credit for.

Am I going overboard here? I don't know why. I guess it's just because I miss my ex-girlfriend more than I thought. Traci. You know, that blond senior that I stole from right under Rick Riley's nose after the JV/Varsity showdown? She graduated and is going to college in Oregon somewhere. I miss her. Oh well, I'll get over it, eventually.

Hmm…you know, it's not smart to walk around with half a hangover at 4:45 AM without knowing where you're going. Where the hell am I?

Room 458? What floor am I on? Better get out of here, the other people around might get pissed.

I take the elevator back down to my floor. The door to the suite is now closed again. Jeff, with Julie next to him, opens the door and I step inside.

"Hey man, we thought you called it quits for the night," Jeff smiles. He seems pretty sober. Julie, who's hanging off his arm, doesn't look in quite the same condition. She looks kind of tipsy. Ok, she's wasted. Happy now?

"I did, but I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk and now I'm back here," I explain quickly. I see a really badly damaged suitcase on the floor. It looks like it fell from the top shelf of the closet, on to the desk, then onto floor. It also looks like it shattered something that was made of glass. We're never coming back here, ever, ever again. We won't be allowed. I'm surprised we're not sitting on a curb waiting to go to the airport already.

Jeff sees me watching the suitcase. "It's Portman's fault, blame him."

"What-"

"He got mad there was nothing he could hang upside down from and picked up Goldberg's suitcase up and hurled it at the top shelf of the closet. It hit the wood, bounced out, hit the desk, knocked over what used to be a glass vase and that," he points to the wreckage on the floor, "is the result."

"Why was he mad that there was nothing to hang upside down from? Why did he want to hang upside down?" I ask.

"I don't know, because he's smashed? Eww, Julie cut it out," he says as Julie licks the inside of his ear.

"Sorry Jeffie," she slurs.

"Jeffie?" I look questioningly at Jeff.

"Uh, she picked that up just tonight. She was talking about how I was just 'Jeff' and not 'Jeffie', which was 'unfair' because she was 'Julie' not 'Jul.' I'm hoping it doesn't stick while she's sober. I don't like it," he watches the girl on his arm, who's now falling asleep.

I suddenly feel all that Tequila getting the better of me, and knock Jeff and Julie out of the way to the bathroom. After I finish puking my guts out, I peel myself off the floor, rinse out my mouth, and find Jeff grinning outside the door.

"What are you laughing about?" I snap as he laughs. Julie is now lying on the bed asleep.

He grins again, and says, "Nothing, just a rhyme I remembered watching you throw up."

"What rhyme?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

He laughs again, and recites, "One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor."

"You…" but I'm cut off as Portman tosses me out of the way in his effort to get to the bathroom. The door slams, and Jeff and I look at each other.

"Wow, it's 'party 'til you puke' around here tonight, isn't it?" Jeff says lightly as retching sounds can be heard from beyond the bathroom door.

"Yeah, pretty much, but I feel much better now…woah! Averman! What are you doing!?" I shout as he's standing on the railing of the balcony outside.

Jeff turns and stares as Averman wanders back and forth across the railing a good twenty feet above the ground.

"Look at me!" Averman shouts, spreading his arms, "I'm a bird! I'm a plane! I'm- oooof!" Averman slips, and thank God, falls onto the balcony rather than the pavement twenty feet below.

I heave a deep sigh of relief, and Jeff and I race over to Averman, now lying flat on his back on the patio.

"Averman! Averman! Are you alright? What the hell were you thinking?" I shout as Jeff and I pull him off the floor.

"What?" he laughs. "I was trying to impress her!" he slurs, pointing toward the corner of the balcony.

"Anna? Oh my God!" Jeff catches sight of the small wreck of the beautiful girl in the corner between the glass door and the railing, and releases Averman. Without warning of the extra weight I was now supporting, both Averman and I crash to the ground again, me landing on his chest.

"Luis, you're a great friend, but I don't swing that way," he grins a drunken smile. "I think Portman and Fulton might, though."

"Don't flatter yourself, Averman," I mumble, pulling both of us off the ground again.

"Flatten myself?" he asks. "How do I flatten myself? Pancakes are kind of flat," he mutters mindlessly.

I glance over at Jeff, who's lifted Anna off the ground. She mumbles something unintelligible to him.

"I think you've had enough, Anna, I'm going to take you back to your room now," he says, shifting her weight so he can get through the door. I'm still supporting Averman, and we follow them back inside.

"Lex is in there with Charlie," Anna says to Jeff.

"You know, I have enough nightmares without that information. You can sleep in my room, alright?"

"Okay," she gives Jeff a lopsided smile. "Are you going to carry me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're too smashed to walk."

"Aren't you smashed?" she slurs.

"No. I can control my drinking, unlike almost everyone else here."

"Okay…what about Averman?" she adds as an afterthought.

"Averman's going to sleep in his own room," Jeff mutters. "He's nearly killed himself once tonight for you. That's quite enough."

"No it's not! I'll come with you!" Averman, who I had thought was either passing out or falling asleep from the way I was dragging him along, suddenly comes to life and tries to pounce on Jeff. I catch him just in time.

"No, you don't buddy," I say, putting my arm around his waist to support his weight again. "I think you've had enough fun for one evening."

"Enough fun," he echoes in a sing-song voice. "Enough fun, enough fun, enough fun…"

"Shut up," I tell him as we leave Kenny, Russ, and Goldberg's room and head for our own.

When we get there, I throw him on his bed, collapse on mine, and glance at the clock to check the time. 5:30 AM.

What a night…drinking, puking, balconies, nighttime strolls…tequila is an evil thing.

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Lyrics borrowed in this chapter:
'Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign' –Five Man Electric Band