he a rock god?” Megan screamed over the music.
I shook my head yes, but I wasn’t looking at Chet. Who the hell was Chet? And why would anyone want to look at him when they could feast their eyes on the tall, tatted god with the guitar?
We stood there “rocking out” for a few songs until our cups were empty. Megan was right. I was already feeling more relaxed with just the one drink down my throat.
Once we were at the bar, Megan handed me some money and told me to get more while she went and said hello to some girl I’d never seen. I spent a few minutes being knocked around while screaming to the bartender, who apparently didn’t see nor hear me. I was about to give up and walk away when an older guy stopped me.
He wasn’t much taller than me, but was thick in the shoulders, which made him feel consuming. He had a bright, friendly smile and that was welcomed in a room full of blacked out, moody rockers.
“I saw you standing there trying so hard to get a drink, so I thought I’d help you out,” he called over the music as he handed me two more of the drinks Megan and I were drinking before.
“Oh my God, thank you so much. Here, let me pay you back.” I tried to stuff the money into his hands.
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pay me back? Drink. Enjoy yourself, on me.” He smiled politely before disappearing into the crowd.
Apparently, looks were deceiving. He looked like a hood rat from the wrong side of tracks, but he was such a pleasant guy.
After being tossed around some more, I made it back to Megan’s side and handed her one of the drinks.
“Yay! Thanks, Pay!” She flashed me a big smile, “See? I told you we’d have a blast.”
“Yep, you called it.” I pasted a big, fake smile on my lips and stood beside her as she socialized with ease.
I spent the next hour listening to the band play and watching the guitarist as he peered out at the crowd with his steely gaze. It disturbed me that I found him attractive. I never looked at boys; males were disgusting as far as I was concerned. So, while I watched him, I played mental tug-of-war over what it was about him that attracted me.
The conclusion was he was attractive because he was untouchable. At least to a girl like me he was. And if couldn’t touch him, then that meant he couldn’t touch me. A guy who could never touch me would be attractive.
I stood that way for a while before I realized Megan was no longer beside me. I turned quickly to see if she was behind me and the room spun. The concrete floor shifted under my feet and the music turned into a loud buzz in my ears. I was drunk… I think. I’d never been drunk before. I looked down at my empty cup and was amazed at how quickly I’d gotten myself drunk.
Suddenly, everything started to spin, and I realized my limbs seemed to be stuck. My arms felt like there were hundred-pound weights hanging from them. I turned and pushed myself back through the crowd. I looked around for Megan as I felt my panic rising. It was then that I saw the black door to my right and the green neon lights that blinked the word “Bathroom.”
As quickly as I could manage with weighty feet and arms, I pushed my way over to the bathroom, hoping I’d find Megan inside and she could take me home. Once inside, the music was muffled. With the loss of the loudness, I could really tell something was wrong. I once got a buzz at my aunt’s wedding and it never felt like this. I felt sleepy and weighed down. I bent to look under the stalls to see if Megan’s shoes were under there, but when I did, the floor suddenly seem too close and I collapsed into a heap on the nasty bathroom floor.
“Megan!” I screamed out. My voice sounded slurred and altered.
No one responded.
Everything around me started to go blurry and a wall of nausea slammed into me. I fell over and crushed my body into the fetal position. I needed help. I wanted to scream for help, but my mouth wouldn’t work anymore. The room started to blink in and out as I began to