So Where Does that Put Us (boy x boy)

Do you ever feel alone? Like you're standing in the middle of so many people, but even if you screamed at the top of your lungs, no one would notice? That's basically me right now. I stand by the door of this lame party, trying to hear myself think over the roaring, all-consuming music. I try to think of why I agreed to come in the first place. Then, I remember why. Because somehow I thought it would be better to get my ears blown off and watch people make out than sit in an empty, quiet house, eating frozen pizza and playing on my Nintendo 64. News flash: It was a bad idea.

I don't even know why I got invited, I'm not much of a party person. But still my old friend on the soccer team asked me to be his designated driver. He knows I don't drink. Not alcohol anyway. While they ran into the throbbing music, I ran to a secluded corner underneath a window. Instead of cracking open a can of beer, I pop open a Mountain Dew and try to make the best of the situation. Here I am, surrounded on all sides by people, utterly alone.

I watch strangers and classmates dance against one another, men trying to get their hands on drinks and women at the same time. Somehow, neither seem that appealing to me. Sipping my soda, I keep my head up, the neutral I've mastered at this point never leaving my face for an instant. I won't let it. Some girl walks over to me, swaying with the music, hands shaking. "C'mon, get up!" She reaches out a slender hand and I shake my head.

"Sorry, not interested."

"C'mon, put your hands up!" She leans closer, spilling the contents of her red cup.

How do I get her away from me? "I don't dance."

She gives up after I push her away. I'm not about to take advantage of a drunk girl. She flips me off and melts back into the crowd and I want to let out a sigh of relief but you never know who might be looking, so instead I take a gulp of Mountain Dew. I don't understand the appeal of parties, or drinking, or frankly any of this.

I watch the undulating crowd sway with the music, which sends vibrations through every fiber of my existence. I catch a glimpse of my old soccer friends, chasing after that same drunk girl, which they always called "babes" which means any woman he deems attractive. I curl my lip at the thought...maybe I can find someplace more quiet. Wait in the car or something.

"Mind if I sit here?" Someone shouts at me through the pounding bass drum.

I glance up from the nutrition facts on my Mountain Dew (there are like, eight different names for sugar on the list of ingredients). Someone stands in front of me, multicolored hair sticking up in all directions. She doesn't seem to sway with the bass like everyone else. Still, I eye her warily. "Are you drunk?"

"No. Had one sip of some guy's beer because I wanted my moment of teenage rebellion, but it's gross and I don't want to undo millions of years of evolution with that shit. But I'm not big on any of this kind of thing so...I only came because it's my friend's house, so..." she sits next to me before I give permission. "Are you drunk?"

I laugh humorlessly, which is the only laugh I have left. "Only on sugar and caffeine," I raise my Mountain Dew. My mom hates soda but she's too busy working to yell at me for it. Talk about teenage rebellion.

The girl laughs, grinning a toothy smile that stretches across her whole face. "Yo! Do you have more?"

"In my car. You want one?"

"Hell yes!" Is she always this excitable? "We never have soda at my house because my siblings cannot handle their sugar. I'm Reid, by the way."

"Ben," I say, getting off the bench and looking longingly out the window where I could just walk home and abandon my stupid old teammates. I dodge and weave through the crowd, escaping grabby hands and those offering drinks until at last we make it to the front door.