And then, I puke. I’ll spare you the details, unlike how I did not spare Syd’s shoes. But she’s Syd, so it’s okay. I feel a little less woozy, at least. The world is a little clearer. I am still very, very drunk. I just feel less horrible about it.
Syd looks up at me, concern clenching her face, then she shoves me into the bathroom. Which is very convenient, because my stomach starts to creak again and my legs are getting kinda woozy, so I sort of collapse onto the toilet seat. She helps prop me up so my lips aren’t on the disgusting germ-filled seat and brushes most of my hair out of my face. Why do I deserve her? I do not. I am still so drunk. God, the room is still spinning. And I still can’t stop thinking about him, that asshole. How I kinda wish he could come scoop me up and take care of me once Syd helps me home and how he’d brush his fingers through my hair and rub my back, kinda like Syd is doing now…
The fucked up part is that Syd is doing all of this and is plenty good enough, and yet, I still feel like something is missing from the whole situation. And it’s Noah.
“I miss him,” I choke out, my mouth still sour and disgusting. I haven’t puked again, though, so that’s a good thing.
“Well, Lee, he’s kind of an ass. If he just left you to hang dry like that. I guess that explains--” She gestures vaguely to me. “--all of this. You’re a mess. Your outfit is still great, though. Totally great. You’re great. Are you gonna puke again? Oh, Lee, make sure you get it in the--”
I’m puking again. Holy shit, how much did I even drink? I feel like everything I’ve ever eaten is coming out of my stomach right now. And everything I’ve ever drank.
“Oh, God, this hurts so bad,” I cry out once my mouth is available again. Syd rubs my back. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Shhh it’s okay. Everybody pukes at parties once in a while. Don’t worry too hard about it. They’ll clean it up later. Hopefully no one else gets it on their shoes.”
“No, I mean… Noah! Losing Noah! I’m so embarrassed. I should never have told him anything. I should have just let it be, I should have just let us be friends, I should never have spoken up. I should have just lived with it. What straight guy wants to live with a gay guy with a crush on him? How would that ever make him anything other than uncomfortable?”
Syd brushes her dark hair out of her face with her elbow to avoid touching anything with her fingers. I don’t blame her. I feel so fortunate that I don’t have any puke in my hair. That’s her doing, though. She’s… she’s so patient.
“Dude. Would you rather you didn’t say anything and then have to live like that forever? Feeling so close to him and feeling like you can never really be yourself because you know that you’re hiding something? It would have come out eventually. And it could have hurt a whole lot worse, then. It was worth doing now. Ripping the band-aid off. But next time, tell me before you puke on my shoes so I can bring you ice cream and face masks, not take you to a party assuming that everything’s all good when you’re emotionally a wreck and willing to make stupid decisions?”
I nod and start to stand up, flushing the toilet. Syd rests her hand on my shoulder.
“You’re right. Can you… I mean like, I don’t think I can take the train. Or like, the train people will know that I’m drunk and arrest me. Can they do that? Everything hurts.”
“Shush, I’ll call us an Uber. Let’s go.”
I wash my hands and Syd bumps me to the side, grinning. She washes her hands first. It’s funny. But as soon as I smile at her, I kinda feel a pang in my chest that’s sharp enough it hurts even beneath the fuzz of my buzz. Ha. That rhymed. But… I can smile and have fun here, I can be around Syd and enjoy her company, but I will still hurt beneath the surface. I still feel like a disgusting piece of shit that isn’t worthy of anything, because Noah basically told me that without saying it. And I should have known.
He loves Sofia. Star-crossed lovers meeting again and shit like that. I should never have stepped in. I hurt like this. This hurts. I never thought he’d like me back, but… I… It’s been a week, I can’t keep all of this any longer. Syd pulls me out of the bathroom and we step around my puke. I thought he’d care, I thought he’d understand, I sort of just thought it would all make sense. I thought he’d laugh and tell me he didn’t feel the same way but I was still his friend.
Instead, he’s ghosted me.
I’m still wasted off of my brain, but my heart feels sober.
Syd can’t fight this battle for me.
She starts to pull me outside, into the January cold, but I stop and turn. I can’t be done here yet, I can’t leave a party sober. I can’t feel this dry. I love Syd, but she doesn’t know what’s best for me right now. What’s best for me is to be so fucking self destructive that I don’t see tomorrow. Maybe then someone will fucking pick me over anyone else. Syd has her other friends. She has the girls she sees. She picks them. Maggie has her new friends. Cal has his shows. Noah has Sofia and apparently anyone but me. Jax is an asshole. Mel and Jayde have each other. Ali has Mikey. My parents have each other. I don’t have anyone. I’m no one’s choice. No one wants me.
Maggie’s voice echoes in my head: “If you’re no one’s choice, pick yourself.” Yeah, Mags, that sounds so helpful right now. Picking myself is so much easier said than done. I’d so much rather pick up another bottle of rum.
“Liam, the car’s gonna be here in five. Liam, you asshole, get back over here. Hey, c’mon!” Syd shouts after me. I ignore her. I’ll send her eighteen separate apology texts tomorrow morning.
I rush back through the party, throwing her an apologetic look. And then I slam into someone.
I stumble back, my balance very nearly totally leaving me, but luckily, there’s a very kind passerby that helps me not fall. She looks at me funny, but she still helps. I turn to apologize to the person I just slammed into, and it’s…
Sofia.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I shout, then try to rush away.
“Wait, Liam? What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you-? Wait a second, come back here you little shit!” Sofia yells at me. I’m pretty sure she’s chasing me as I’m sneaking around people, and then I do a little loop past the dance floor towards the kitchen, then round back towards the dining room where two people are doing body shots off of a guy who looks way too hairy to be getting body shots done off of him, then slither towards the family room where Syd’s glaring at me with her arms crossed by the front door, since the whole place is basically one big circle, all while a group of people of assorted genders play strip beer pong. One of the guys looks particularly hot. Maybe I should--
Sofia pokes me in the shoulder.
“It’s rude to run away from people, you,” she snaps, then ushers me over to the couch by the shirtless guy. One of his opponents makes it and he takes off a sock, tossing it under the table. Syd comes over and sits by Sofia and I, too.
“Hi. Do we know each other?” Syd asks, ever radiant. She’s not even sober, how is she this sober?
“No. But we know of each other. I’m Sofia. You’re Sydney, right? You’re very cute. I like your glasses.”
The music is more distant over here, so it’s much easier to understand one another.
“Thanks. I like your face.”
“Thanks. Anyways--” Sofia turns to me. “--What the hell are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be talking to Noah right now!”
“Um, what?” I ask.
“Why the fuck would he talk to Noah right now? That piece of shit was an ass to him. Uh, no offense. I’m sure you’re great. But your boyfriend kinda sucks ass. He hurt my best friend. Which is very uncool, I might add. If I ever see him again, I’m adding his balls to my taxidermied collection that I keep on my-”
“Why would Noah talk to me? He’s been ignoring me all week.”
“I know! I told him he was an asshole but he said he just didn’t know what to say. I’ve been telling him that that isn’t an excuse and that he needs to just man the fuck up and talk to you.”
“Well, he didn’t,” I tell her. Sofia looks at me, watches the way I’m folding my fingers in my lap, and gives me the most pity-filled smile I’ve ever seen. It takes the little teeny hope I had that she was going to tell me they broke up and he wanted me and smashes it into little tiny, goopy bits.
“He thought you’d be free tonight.”
“Why would I be free tonight?”
“Because you’re always free on Thursdays. He said it’s the night you usually go on walks, so he figured he’d talk to you today.”
“Well, I wasn’t home. I’m here, partying.”
“On a Thursday.”
“You’re here partying, too!”
“I don’t have class on Fridays. Most juniors don’t. You, however, do have class tomorrow.”
“Hey, I’m sorry to cut this short--kind of--but our ride is here, Lee,” Syd tells me, standing up. She grabs my forearm and pulls so I’m standing next to her. Sofia stays put on the couch and crosses her arms as we go back to the front door. Syd drapes my coat back around my shoulders. Glad she kept track of it when I flung it off. She’s a good friend.
We get close to the front door, and I pull my shoes on. Both are right by the front door where they should be. It’s reassuring to see them there. Because this time only Syd could help me find them. And Syd is a Slytherin.
Noah’s a Hufflepuff.
Syd cracks the door open, and I know I’m going to have to face Noah when I get home, but at least now I know he wants to talk. I’m still not sober enough for it, though. I guess the thought of him rejecting me and feeling bad is a nicer one than thinking he doesn’t care about me at all. But now, after hearing that, after hearing that he waited a week just to talk to me, he let me suffer and wilt and marinade in my own hurt, just because he didn’t know how to politely say “no,” sort of makes me feel the same way the cold coming in from the outside makes my toes feel.
A blue van pulls up outside, and Syd starts walking towards it. I start to follow, but I hear Sofia shout after me.
Syd doesn’t hear. She keeps walking. And so do I.
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