Rolling Dice [sample]

13: Rolling Dice

                “Hey! How are you? Madison, you remember…”

                I lost track of all the people Tiffany introduced me to. I did my best to remember names, but I reckoned that most of them were tipsy enough they’d barely remember me anyway.

                It’s coming up close to ten o’clock before anything big happens. Up until then, I’d been chatting with people Tiffany introduced me to, drifting around with whichever one of the girls I could find. Everyone seemed pretty nice, actually, aside from the occasional girl who’d shoot a snooty glare my way, or the odd leering guy. But then, I suppose that could’ve just been the alcohol – making people nice as well as not very nice.

                I’m having a pretty good time though. Even if most of the people I’m talking to are drunk, or at the very least, tipsy, I’m having a good time.

                But it’s around ten o’clock, and all of a sudden there’s a clattering noise and shouting loud enough to distract everyone even with the pounding music blasting from speakers in the lounge and conservatory, and all the general party noise.

                Just like everyone else, I tried pushing my way through to the hallway, where there was the sound on someone shouting and what must’ve been someone falling.

                I see there’s some guy I met earlier – Neil, I’m sure his name is – shoving a guy whose face I can’t quite see into the wall by the front door, cursing loudly at him. I hear them shouting back and forth, but they’re both slurring, and with all the commotion, I can’t hear them clearly enough to make out what it is exactly they’re shouting.

                With all the jostling throngs of people, I somehow ended up being pushed near the front of the crowds without even trying. I saw Adam near me though, and grabbed his arm. He swayed, unsteady on his feet, and stumbled back. He only stayed upright because of all the people around.

                “What’s going on?” I yell in Adam’s ear.

                “Craig hooked up with Neil’s girlfriend,” he shouts back. “Or ex-girlfriend? I think? I don’t know.” He lifts his beer bottle above his face, tipping it to his mouth – about three droplets fall around his mouth. Adam shakes the empty bottle upside down, like that’s going to make more alcohol magically appear and pour out.

                “Aw, damn it,” he mutters. “I’m all out of drink.”

                “I think you’ve had enough anyway,” I tell him as he stumbles against me, throwing an arm onto my shoulders for support. He’s not drunk enough to pass out, but he’s drunk enough that he can’t stand properly. And he’s heavy.

                I put an arm around Adam’s waist to try and hold him up. Turning my attention back to the fight by the door, I see a couple of guys pushing Neil away from the other guy, Craig, as he flails punches at him.

                Now the drama’s over, everyone around me begins to disperse, and it’s really hard to hold Adam up, so I stumble, too.

                “Outside,” Adam says, pulling at the collar of his blue Ralph Lauren polo shirt. “It’s way too hot.”

                “I think it’s cold out–”

                “Baby, it’s cold, outside!” he starts to sing, and laughs. I have to laugh too, because he sounds so sober and serious, singing, it’s pretty darn hilarious – plus, he’s got a terrible voice.