“So you put the cup on the edge of the table like this.” The guy next to me places a mini red solo cup on the edge of Chelsea’s kitchen counter and flips it perfectly. “And if it lands upright like that, the other person has to drink. But if it doesn’t, you have to.” He smiles at me, and his dimples make me blush. Chelsea was right: Prep guys are really f***ing cute.
“Okay, you try it.” He hands me a cup and I clumsily try to flick it with my thumb and forefinger. It lands on the ground, and I rush to grab it, but he is faster and smoother than me. He’s so cute when he hands it back.
“Don’t worry, I usually suck at this too, I just got lucky,” he says, trying to flip it again and failing. He looks at me like I’m not some clumsy asshole. I think I’m in love. I just want to run my fingers through his black hair and look into his mesmerizingly green eyes. Ew, I feel gross just thinking that. I wish I was the kind of girl who could just lean over spontaneously and kiss him, but instead I’m stuck fantasizing about eye contact.
“Wanna try it for real?” he says, already pouring something blue into a line of shot glasses. I hesitate for a moment. While he looks at me expectantly, one of his friends walks over to us.
“Nick, niiice catch man.” His eyes are rimmed with red, and he puts his hand out for a fist bump.
“Shut the f*** up man,” the guy who is apparently named Nick replies. He’s a gentleman too. Another guy comes over and drapes his arm around me.
“What’s up, gorgeous? You like our boy Nicky?”
I feel the heat spreading across my face and will it to stop. Why do I always have to blush? Makes me look like a f***ing 12-year-old.
“Hey lay off man,” Nick says, shoving the kid’s arm off my shoulder. The two other boys laugh and head off, apparently bored with our budding romance.
“Sorry about them,” Nick says, but I shrug it off.
“Let’s drink!” I say with what I hope is a flirty laugh.
“Ladies first.”
I place the cup on the edge of the table and flick it as gently as I possibly can. A little too gently: It rolls over and off the edge of the table. He laughs and hands me a shot glass. I don’t want to look inexperienced, so I try to pour it down my throat like I’ve seen my brother and his friends do. It tastes horrible, and I hold back a gag. Not the most graceful, but he doesn’t seem to notice, or at least not to care. It’s his turn with the cup.
“Okayy… here I go. I’ve only actually played this like once before.” He laughs, and flips the cup, which lands effortlessly on the table. I pour another shot into my mouth. This time the taste is worse, but it feels warm going down my throat, so I don’t really mind it. I’ve never had liquor before. It’s so different than beer. As if he can read my mind, he says,
“Don’t worry babe, it’s Bombay. Literally not even as strong as beer.”
I smile and flip the cup again, but my fingers feel heavy this time, and they won’t move the way I want them to. The Bombay goes smoothly down my throat. He flips the cup perfectly again, and I take another shot.
“One sec, I need to find some water,” I say, standing up from my stool. My foot stumbles, and I burst into laughter. I feel so clumsy, but in a cute way that I’m not really used to.
“Hey, no, that’s against the rules it ruins the game!” Nick grabs my arm and pulls me back onto the seat.
“Okayyy sorry.” My fingers fumble again, and I take another shot. He flips it perfectly, and then my cup lands on the ground again.
“I got it,” he leans down smoothly and picks up the cup again. “Okay, my turn.” He flips the cup and it falls on its side.
“Oh no,” he laughs and takes a shot. Is that his first one? I don’t remember. The lights above us are flickering and everyone’s voices are too distracting. I can’t focus on what we’re doing.
I can’t find the little solo cup, but he says that’s okay and hands me another shot anyways. I want more. I feel so good. He’s so cute and he thinks I’m hot and he’s calling me babe. He hands me a little bottle of something clear. It’s so cute that I drink the whole thing at once.
I’m on the couch in Chelsea’s living room, and Nick has his arm around me and his other hand on my thigh. Chelsea is talking to me, but I can’t understand what she’s saying because Nick’s thumb is going up and down my back and the lights won’t stop flickering. I slide off the couch, and laugh when I realize I’m on the carpet. Nick pulls me back up, and we both laugh.
I’m not sure what I’m doing now. The stairs are rocking up and down. A hand on the small of my back and another on my shoulder guide me up. I can’t keep my feet flat. I can’t hear my breathing. The lights flash. It’s so hot. I’m laughing though, because I think someone just said something funny. But the hall is dark and I don’t see anyone else so it must’ve been Nick. His arms are around me I just noticed that. That’s funny too.
I don’t know how I got here, but I know it’s Chelsea’s bed and someone’s in it with me, pulling off my shirt. It’s so bright and pulsating that I close my eyes.