“Morgan!” Chris yells from across the room. He’s standing on a table. Another guy is standing on a table next to him. They’re playing a game where they balance on one leg and take turns downing shots until one of them falls. It’s Chris’s favorite drinking game and my least favorite time to be around him, but he’s waving me over. Before I make it across the room, the guy on the other table falls, and Chris raises a victorious fist in the air. Then he jumps down just as I reach him. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me to him.
“You’re being boring,” he says. He brings his cup to my mouth. “Drink. Be merry.”
I push the cup away. “I’m driving us all home tonight. I don’t want to drink.”
“No, Jonah is driving tonight. You’re good.” Chris tries again to give me another drink, but I push it away again.
“Jonah wanted to drink, so I told him I’d drive,” I lie.
Chris looks around, spotting someone nearby. I follow his gaze to see Jonah sitting on the couch next to Jenny, whose legs are draped across his lap. “You’re DD tonight, right?”
Jonah glances at me before answering Chris. It’s a two-second silent conversation, but Jonah can see in my pleading expression that I need him to tell Chris he’s not.
Jonah tilts his head a little in curiosity but then looks at Chris. “Nope. I’m getting hammered.”
Chris slumps his shoulders and looks back at me. “Fine. I guess I’ll have to have fun all alone.”
I’m trying not to be insulted by his words, but it’s hard not to be. “Are you saying I’m not any fun when I’m sober?”
“You are fun, but drunk Morgan is my favorite Morgan.”
Wow. That kinda makes me sad. But he’s drunk, so I’ll excuse his insults right now, even if it’s just to avoid an argument. I’m not in the mood. I’ve got more important things on my mind.
I pat Chris’s chest with both hands. “Well, drunk Morgan won’t be here tonight, so go find people you can have fun with.”
Right when I say that, someone grabs Chris’s arm and pulls him back to the tables. “Rematch!” the guy says.
With that, my level of sobriety is no longer Chris’s concern, so I take that as an opportunity to escape from him, this noise, these people. I walk out the back door and am met with a quieter version of the party and a blast of fresh air. There’s an empty chair next to the pool, and even though there’s a couple in the water I’m almost certain are doing things that should be deemed unsanitary in a swimming pool, it’s somehow less of a nuisance than being inside that house. I position my chair so that I can’t see them, and I lean back and close my eyes. I spend the next few minutes trying not to obsess over any symptom I may or may not have had this past month.
I don’t even have time to start thinking about what all of this might mean for my future when I hear a chair being dragged across the concrete behind me. I don’t even want to open my eyes and see who it is. I can’t take Chris and all his drunkenness right now. I can’t even take Jenny and her combination of wine coolers, weed, and being sixteen.
“You okay?”
I sigh from relief when I hear Jonah’s voice. I tilt my head and open my eyes, smiling at him. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
I can see in his expression that he doesn’t believe me, but whatever. There’s no way I’m telling Jonah I’m late for my period because (a) it’s none of his business and (b) I don’t even know if I’m pregnant and (c) Chris is the first person I’ll tell if I am.
“Thanks for lying to Chris,” I say. “I just really don’t feel like drinking tonight.”
Jonah nods in understanding and offers me a plastic cup. I notice he’s holding two, so I take one from him. “It’s soda,” he says. “Found a rogue can buried in one of the coolers.”
I take a sip and lean my head back. Soda tastes so much better than alcohol, anyway. “Where’s Jenny?”
Jonah nudges his head toward the house. “Taking table shots. I couldn’t stay to watch.”
I groan. “I hate that game so much.”
Jonah laughs. “How did we both end up with people who are our exact opposites?”