Just one
Chapter two: The party
By: Ambrlupin
Rating: T
Summary: "Aw come on, man! Its just one drink. What's the worst that could happen?" Not a oneshot. Blink/Mush & Spot/Race
Disclaimer: I don't own newsies. Red (Collin) however, is mine.
A/N: this was basically written for the prom season, and on a dare. A few friends of mine told me I wouldn't have the guts or whatnot, to write a newsies story about a drunk driving accident. So I did, using it to also put a point across. I hope someone reads this and thinks twice, maybe, about drinking and driving, even with peer pressure. There's always another choice. Remember that.
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Skittery's house lay on the edges of the rich neighborhood, seriously bordering on the poverty-line, yet at the same time, he still managed to live in a fine house of two stories and sporting marble floors. How he did it, no one knew.
But, what everyone did know, was that it was the best place to have a party.
Harsh metal music, the kind they wouldn't play at the hotel, literally seeped through the walls, so loud the floor shook with it. To get to the booze, which was stationed and carefully looked over by yet another of our friends you had to wade through the dancing bodies. For some reason, I was not surprised to see all of the people who had declined going to prom for one reason or another, were here, dressed up in clothes you were definitely not allowed to wear at the school approved function, and having the time of their lives.
Skittery must have moved all the furniture upstairs, which was off limits, because the large rooms on the bottom floor were all clear, even of rug. There were no couches to dirty, no lamps to knock over. He had been prepared.
Extremely so, especially when I saw he had placed large trash cans in the corner of every room, with large heavy-duty bags. The light were really dim, but on one side of the room they were turned up, illuminating a long table on one side of the main room, laden down with every teenager's favorite food group- the junk.
Spot, as soon as he walked in the door, took one look around the large living room and entrance hall, and immediately made a beeline for the area in which all the alcoholic drinks seemed to be coming from- the kitchen- with Race following along behind him like a puppy dog.
"Whooo!" Mush cried, stripping off his jacket and laying it over a nearby chair, "let's par-tay, Blink!"
"I second that!" Skittery cried as he came in just behind us. The fact that he had been at the prom instead of being at his own house party had not escaped my notice, and I would ask him later, perhaps, when I had the time.
Because right now, Sarah was leading me into the dancing, and I, found myself following without even a word of protest. Easily getting into the music, we danced, hardly noticing the passing of time, hardly caring how late we were going to be, hardly caring that all of our parents might start to worry.
We were adults now, we were able to make our own decisions, however foolish they might have been. My hands were on her hips, and hers were on my shoulders, and I wondered briefly about how true Blink's statement earlier that night might be.
It wasn't something I was planning, but right now, anything was a possibility. And if Sarah and I having sex was one of those...well, heck, who was I to complain? So I just smirked and listened to the music as I danced with my girl.
"Having fun?" I asked her, having to nearly yell over the noise.
"Yes!" She cried back, spinning around and kissing my lips quickly, "Im having the best time of my life!"
What a coincidence, I thought, so am I.
I had promised to show them the town, and well, in some weird way I was. The whole town was here, packed into this house, dancing, smoking, drinking, and having a good old time. It wasn't quite what I had had in mind, but we were having fun, and that was what counted.
Spot and Race danced by then, yes, danced, with drinks in each of their hands, and a cigarette hanging from their lips. Yup, there was one way to get them to join the crowd. Drunk and nicotine-high.
We watched them twirl and fall over each other, laughing and holding our sides. Spot's shirt was unbuttoned, but he didn't seem to mind, neither did Race, who was missing his vest and his jacket, leaving him in nothing but the white dress shirt. He was even without his tie.
Spinning to a rather hard drum solo, Spot threw his head back and guzzled the rest of his beer. Briefly I wondered how much he had consumed already before, get this- he pulled another cold one from his deep pant's pocket, even as he threw the other one toward some random kid.
Flipping the new one open with his thumb he did a quick step to the beat, among whistles and cat-calls, before giving an extravagant bow, grabbed Race by his sleeve, and staggering to my side, pulling his date with him.
"Hiya, Jacky-boy!" Spot purred as he patted my back, "Nice party."
I didn't even feel like correcting him on whose party it was. The air in here was hazy, and I knew I had gotten high from whatever it was floating through the air- which, in a way, kinda explained why it was I felt so happy go lucky, and forget the world. I briefly toyed with the idea of leaving, but that idea went out the door. I was having too much fun.
Mistake number two.
"Hey, man!" Skittery hooked his arm with mine and drug me off, turning to Sarah with his charming smile. "Sorry, lovely, I need to steal your date for a minute."
She just waved at us, "Don't rape him, Skits," She teased, knowing full well the tall dark haired nineteen year old was the ladies man of all ladies men. "He doesn't hold up well to that sort of stuff."
I flashed her an annoyed glare, but she laughed and turned to talk to Mush, who was leaning against the wall, his eyebrows raised so high they were in his hairline. I turned to see what had captured his attention so, and found Blink doing an odd mixture of a strip-tease and break-dancing in the middle of the room.
I pointed this out to my kidnapper and he assured me, with a wink, that Blink would be mysteriously barred from the kitchen for the remainder of the night. I asked about Spot, and nearly gave our host a heart-attack.
"Bar Spot from the drinks!" He exclaimed, eyes wide in horror. "I wouldn't have a house left!"
That was a good point, but, "He's going to drink you out of your house, Skits."
He merely grinned, "Come with me."
Leading me into the large, large kitchen, I was astounded - and yet not surprised, yet again- to see that the large island in the middle of the room was covered in all sorts of drinks from hard alcohol such as Jack Daniels, or Southern Comfort, vodka, or rum, to even fine wines.
"Woah." I blinked, wide-eyed. Never before had I seen such a display, not at a house party, anyway. I should have expected it, though. After all, Skittery was known for his drinking, even as much as Spot was.
"Ahuh." He reached over and snagged up one of those disposable and yet washable red plastic cups and gestured at the table, "What do you want?"
"Oh, no." I shook my head, a little hesitant about refusing."I don't want anything."
"But I got you something." He bent over and rummaged in a cabinet, finally pulling out a dark amber bottle, which he set on the table in front of me and turned it so the white and gold words on the black paper were facing me.
I nearly groaned aloud. "Black Velvet." My only weakness. Imported in from Canada, it was a smooth whisky that I had come to love over the years. Odd, but true. "Skits, how could you? You know im driving tonight!"
He gave me a shrug, with a grin that said he knew he had me. "Well, I had bought this for you even before you called me and told me you were driving, so I plead the fifth. But here's how I see it. The party's going strong, and your group doesn't seem ready to leave, so why not have a drink with me. Just one. That'll be out of your system in no time."
I had the 'no' right on the tip of my tongue, but what he said was true. One drink wasn't going to bother me, it wouldn't even make me tipsy, heck, three drinks couldn't get me tipsy. And he was right, we weren't going to leave anytime soon. But still...
"I don't know." I murmurred, trying not to look at the bottle. "I kinda promised my mom I wasn't going to drink tonight..."
He snorted, "Is your mom here? No. Come on, Its prom night! Just one little drink? For me?" He pouted, tilting the bottle so that the alcohol inside it swished around the glass. "Look, I spent money on you!"
That did it.
"All right."I relented, "Just one drink."
Mistake number three.
Somehow, that one drink turned into five, and that five turned into ten, and before I even knew it, I had helped Skittery polish off the Black Velvet, a Jack Daniels, and half of a bottle of Morgan, and by that time, Sarah had come looking for me.
"Jack Kelly!" She nearly yelled, "What are you doing?"
I raised my head and saluted her with a shot glass. "Hullo, love. Care to join us?"
"No!" Her face was livid as she stalked to my side, "How much have you had to drink, Jack? How much!" She grabbed the glass from me.
"Oi!" I yelped, quickly snatching it back. "What's your problem? I haven't had that much! God, Sarah, its prom! Im just having some drinks with my friend!"
She cast a scrutinizing glance over me, eyes narrowed. "I want to leave soon." She announced as she spun on her heel and stalked out. Skittery cast me a 'sorry-man' glance and I shrugged. Soon meant soon. It didn't mean now.
We toasted to that.
Several times.
It was hours later, sometime in the early morning, when I started up the car and backed out of the driveway, Sarah fuming in the seat next to me, and the guys laughing hysterically in the back over something they found on Blink.
I didn't even want to know. But at the same time I did. So, as I pulled out and sped off down the road, I turned around and spared a glance. Blink was trying to mold himself into the back of his seat, arms crossed as he denied everything, his face red.
Mush wasn't even trying to defend his boyfriend, in fact he was all but unconscious in his seat, head propped up on the window. I felt kind of bad about keeping him out so late, as the only straight A-honor roll student any of us knew, he worked his butt off during the week and usually used the weekends to rest.
Spot and Race were leaning on each other, dangling something I couldn't see in front of the blonde's nose, cutting each other off and finishing each other's sentences, giggling the entire time. They were so high and drunk it was funny to watch.
So I laughed, man did I laugh. I just felt so good, despite the scoldings I was receiving from my date- this was the last time I was taking her anywhere, I decided- and my mind was in a haze, a good and warm haze. Rolling down my window I howled into the wind and took the corner without pausing, running straight through the stop-sign.
"Jack!" Sarah yelled, her hands clinging to the dash. "Slow down!"
Slow down? Why? This was great! The wind ran past my face, its icy feeling in such contrast to the way my stomach was burning, it sent shivers down my spine. I laughed, brushing aside the warnings, both thought and vocal (from Sarah) and just watched as the speedometer climbed higher and higher.
I had never felt so alive, so in control. It was a thrill, my blood boiling with it. The adrenaline rush mixed with the alcohol and the drug filled air I had inhaled, sending me over the end of my pleasure kick. I didn't even know who I was at that moment.
Suddenly... "JACK!"
Too late I saw it. The pole. Where had that come from? It certainly hadn't been there a second ago. I heard Sarah screaming, but all I saw was the dull black of the metal, filling my vision, even as I stomped hard on the breaks, swerving.
Sarah was out of her seat, trying to help me turn the wheel hard enough to alter our course, the guys were done joking around, and they were panicking, shouting out my name; as if my name alone would stop the speeding vehicle.
And then...nothing but pole.
With a loud crash the car hit the tall electrical pole mostly on the passenger side -due to the efforts of turning- and then, going past, hit the decline for the ditch...and we were in the air. I screamed, one harsh sound as I threw my arms up over my head. We landed on our top, rolled over, once, twice, and then...everything was black.
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Sniffles bet you couldn't see that coming.
Next update: tomorrow (Monday) at 5.
Now leave me a note in the bottom left using the bottom that says 'submit review' and I don't care if you have an account or not. I just like to know that this is touching people. You know, its true, and its harsh. This stuff is real.
