I Would
By Skittles. Disclaimer? I Heart Disney, and fully respect Roy Disney and wish he would stay with the company for sake of tradition.
Chapter 2: "Let the game begin!"
I woke up in the middle of the fucking night, completely clothed, with one foot hanging off my bed and a pile of drool under my cheek, wide awake. For a second, I stared at the black square of my window, wondering where the hell I was and what reality I was in.
The dream had been so real. I was frustrated. That kid Mush was in it, in his trendy-ass outfit. We were at school for some function. He was trying to get me to follow him, but I had to get to the gym for this assembly, and people kept getting in my way, asking me if I had a snowboard. The damn kid was always just around the next corner.
I shook my head. I could still feel the frustration of the dream. My phone was blinking next to me on the pillow. I had a text. It was from Mush.
From: |555-365-4852| 1:23 AM hey man u up? its me mush
I looked at the clock. It was 2:12. I wiped my mouth, rubbed my eyes.
Re: |555-365-4852| 2:13 AM yeah wats up?
The reply was fast, like he was watching his phone waiting for me.
From: |555-365-4852| 2:13 AM nm u doin anything 2nite?
He wanted to hang out? I eyed the keys to my car. I wasn't supposed to drive. My mom didn't even want me even leaving the house. I glanced at the clock again. 2:16 AM! Officially tomorrow! Fuck it, I thought. It's my 18th birthday. I'll do whatever the hell I want. I added Mush as my contact, and texted him back.
To: |Mush (Mobile)| 2:17 AM no y where r u?
From: |Mush (Mobile)| 2:17 AM my rents 356 ashton in annedale. come over were celebrating.
To: |Mush (Mobile)| 2:18 AM k, cu in a min.
Celebrating? I didn't know, I didn't care. I didn't think it was my birthday, but fuck. I'd celebrate my birthday, they can celebrate the Chinese New Year for all I cared. I grabbed a new t-shirt, something about dinosaurs, and my hoodie. I grabbed my keys and made a pit-stop in the hall bathroom to run wet fingers through my hair. They got stuck in the curls and I sucked a breath in through my teeth to stop from crying out. "FUCK!" I mouthed a silent scream. My scalp was still stinging as I worked my hands out of my hair.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket.
From: |Mush (Mobile)| 2:25 AM hurry up or there wont be any juice left for u...
Fuck, kid, how fast do you think I can get there? I thought. I slowed my pace considerably going past my parents room, then down the stairs, and through the garage. My car was parked on the street, and I got in and drove to Annedale.
Okay, so, remember how I said Oak Glen was full of a bunch of upper middle class white Christian clones? Well, the mother ship is in Annedale. Annedale is this gated community that's actually one looong winding street with a cul-de-sac at the end. And the only house on that Cul-De-Sac is the VanArlan place. It's not a house, it's a fucking complex. You can't even see the house from the road. The damn place has staff. Beatrice and Rex go to my high school, they're twins a couple of years behind me, and they always look completely out of place. They have a valet. Not like the kind that parks your car at fancy restaurants, but the kind that lays out your clothes in the morning and makes sure your toilette is put out just so, and that your hair is done properly. It's weird.
So the houses on Annedale Court are also fucking huge, but at least they look like houses and not castles. And the closer you get to the gate, the more normal they look. Mush's place was about three houses in, and could still fit about three of my houses inside it.
I sat in the driveway in my car a second, looking at the dark house. Suddenly I was really fucking nervous. Mush's comment about the Specs/Dutchy/Snitch love triangle came back to me. I almost backed out when my phone buzzed again.
From: |Mush (mobile)| 2:45 AM get in here dude I can see u sitting in the driveway. Come around the back. I made u a drink.
Fuck Skit, the man made you a drink. Now you gotta go drink it, I thought. I walked down the sloping lawn and around the back to the patio. There were a couple of kids giggling and smoking. They all looked like Mush, with those fucking clogs and expensive looking jackets. I dug my hands further into my hoodie.
Inside, a beer pong table was set up, and just as I walked in, all four players and a few of the outcasts yowled in either victory or defeat as a ping pong ball swirled into its cup.
"Skit! There you are!"
I whirled around, and unbidden, a smile came to my face. Mush was there, pressing a drink into my hand. I felt my cheeks flame. "What the fuck is up, dude," I said, accepting the drink and taking a pull of it. Rum. Possibly with an ounce of coke and an ice cube. With an effort, I kept the grimace off my face, and just to reassure any onlookers that I was not, in fact, a pussy, I took another gulp.
"Attaboy," Mush said, slapping me on the back. "Happy birthday, dude."
He remembered my birthday? He was grinning at me as though we had been best friends forever and I was his favorite person. He reminded me of a puppy eager for attention. I could barely keep myself from scratching behind his ears.
I took another drink to cover the fact that I was staring at him and not talking.
"Come on, dude, you're on."
"On?" Mush steered me towards the beer pong table, where fresh cups were being set out.
"Birthday boy gets to play with an extra cup. And you get to be partners with the Cowboy."
He gestured towards a tall kid with a red bandana tied around his neck and a giant-ass belt buckle on his jeans. There were murmurs all around as I shook hands with him. I knew him from sight, and I knew his real name, but he'd graduated last year and I'd never said more than two words to Jack Kelly.
"Who am I playing against?"
"Me and Specs," said a tall kid with an eye patch, dragging over a dark-haired nerdy-looking kid with glasses. I didn't know if the eye patch was cause the kid didn't have an eye or he thought he was being cool looking like a fucking pirate.
"That's Blink," Mush said. "They're legendary beer pong champs. We call em The Tri-Balls cause they only use three eyes."
"Yeah, and they only got three balls between the two of 'em!" Someone shouted.
A deafening, general chorus of "Oooohhhh!" and "Aww, fuck off!" filled the room.
"Alright, alright, alright!" Mush held up his hands. "Let the game begin! Birthday boy first!"
Well, it turns out that I cannot throw a ping pong ball into a plastic cup worth a flying fuck, so by the time the sun came up, I was vomiting in the downstairs bathroom, Mush's hand a steadying presence on my back. The Tri-Balls were good, but they were already trashed. I think I coulda beaten them except nobody told me that the Cowboy, who despite being flipping fantastic, does not drink. So it didn't matter if I won or lost, I drank for two all night, and was praying to the porcelain pirate for deliverance come dawn.
When the offending contents of my stomach had been thoroughly emptied, I flush and sat with my head against the cool granite wall. Mush sat near me on the edge of the bathtub. He handed me a tiny Dixie cup of water.
"Thanks."
"Yeahnoproblem." I looked up. Mush's eyes were shadowed. He looked like he was about to pass out.
"You okay, dude?"
There was a pause.
"Yeah, man. Just. You know. Thinkin."
Mush's head was bowed over in between his knees, and his fingers were hidden in his tightly curled hair. I closed my eyes against the bright, glaring lights of the bathroom, and in a second, Mush spoke again.
"You have a good birthday, Skittery?"
"Yeah, Mush. I did."
"Good. Good. Sorry you puked."
"Nah. Feels a lot better now."
"Good. I'm glad you feel good now."
The conversation was turning weird and my head was beginning to pound. Suddenly it seemed like it was my turn to take care of Mush. Well. He'd gotten me good and drunk when I was down, and sat with my while I puked my brains out. I guess I owed him.
"Yeah, thanks Mush."
He lifted his head up. It looked like hard work.
"Skittery."
"Yeah?"
"You called me Mush."
"Yeah, I did."
"I like that you remembered my name. I thought you forgot about me."
"No, I—"
"Yeah, its okay, though. You did forget about me. But it's okay. It's good, actually."
"Okay," I said. I had no fucking idea what the kid was talking about now. "Maybe you should lie down, Mush."
"NO!"
"Or you don't have to!"
"Just, Skittery, can I just tell you something?"
"Sure."
"Are you drunk?"
I thought about it.
"Yeah, Mush, you got me drunk, you remember?"
"Yeah, well. Nevermind."
"Okay."
"But don't ya wanna know what I was gonna tell you?"
"Okay."
"Skittery. Skit-tery O-Leary. Oh. Lear. Rie. I am gonna tell you something I'm not supposed to tell anyone."
"MUSH."
"Oh, hey Cowboy. I was just tellin..."
Jack Kelly was in the doorway.
"You weren't telling anybody anything, Mush Meyers. What are you guys doin? Everyone's asleep but you two."
"Skittery puked."
"And then, Mush was gonna tell me something. What were you—,?"
Jack interrupted me. "C'mon Mush, Skittery. I have a fold-out couch with your names on it." A couch sounded even better. I forgot about whatever Mush was trying to say. I allowed myself to be led back into the sitting room where previously I had lost so spectacularly at beer pong and where now there was what looked like a heavenly concoction of frothy blankets and pillows. Mush, who was leaning on the Cowboy's arm with his eyes half open, let himself be flung onto one side. I sunk into the wealth of blankets on this side of the bed and sunk into a deep, snoring, drooling sleep.