Cream of Tartar

Chapter 3: Be Energy Efficient, Guys

The walk over is short and silent because we're not friends yet and you can only make small talk about energy efficiency for so long. I'm regretting wearing 6-inch stilettos but I know they make my pathetic calves look slightly better.

The music is unbearably loud as we approach so I don't hear what's happening around me very well. I knew I should've stolen my late grandfather's hearing aids when he was in that hospital bed.

"Get that dumb bitch out of here!" is the only thing I hear before someone lunges at me, knocking me to the floor. Ow.

"She tried to steal my signed copy of The Rainbow Fish!" he yells at no one in particular, "I will end you," the man screams as he tickles me relentlessly. I laugh but like not because I want to, just because you can't not laugh when someone is tickling you. It's like one of the most important rules of tickling, besides not having 12 inch fingernails, of course.

I would recognise that voice anywhere! He's the guy whose signed copy of The Rainbow Fish I tried to steal.

"Settle down, Tar, no one cares about your damn fish. Besides, she's with me." Sue says, pushing him away, "Now, someone tell me where the salt and vinegar chips are."

Ignoring the strange man, I follow Sue into the house, like a rat in one of those unethical maze-related science experiments.

"You want some beer?" Sue asks as she cracks open a cold one with her teeth.

"Sue! We are 18 years old and the legal drinking age in The United States of America is currently 21. I know there are some debates about lowering the legal drinking age to 18 but those are just debates Sue," I say clutching her shoulder, "put down the beer. It's not too late."

Sue cackles hysterically, "You are a strange one Ceram and I'm going to bully you for the rest of the year under the guise of friendship," she says as she sculls the beer and scuttles away, in search of salt and vinegar chips, I presume.

Fuck it. If my roommate of 10 minutes is ok with breaking the law, then so am I. I scull a beer in record time, timing it on my phone as I do so. 

I crack open another cold one for the lads when it's snatched from my hand - it's Fish Man again. What a pain. Undeterred, I grab a second bottle and open that one too. He goes to grab it from me, so I throw it at his face. It splashes everywhere and looking at his face, I immediately regret the reflex. He looks furious. Just as he brings his hand up to slap me across the face, Fruit Salad, Yummy Yummy blares from my pocket, and Fish Man's hand falls to his side.

He quickly nods in approval before swaggering away.

I answer the phone call, giggling like a school girl who just had her first sip of wine, which is pretty close considering I'm a college girl who just had her first bottle of beer. "Hellloooo," I slur, drunk in record time, I timed it on my phone.

"Cream!" My mother's voice blurs through the line, "did you just crack open a cold one with the boys? Why can I hear Toxic from Britney Spears' fourth studio album, In The Zone, playing loudly in the background?"

"Ohmygawd mommmmmm shut up!"

"Crema I will not shut up. You are becoming an alcoholic on your first day of college, you absolute waste of space, you have brought dishonour to your entire family."

"Family? So just you then? Or did you forget that dad ditched you for someone younger, prettier and less annoying and left the flipping country?"

"Crema!" Fish Man roars, "how fucking dare you talk to your fucking mother like that when she has done fucking nothing but love and support you since your fucking father abandoned her for a newer fucking model that doesn't fucking control every little fucking thing he does!"

I stare at him, dumbfounded. "How do you know my name and my parents' relationship history?"

He stops and looks back at me blankly, "That's what you took from that? I just passionately told you to stop being a dick to your mum."

"Yeah," my mum agrees on the phone, "How is that the part that you're interested in?"

"Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about? I'm kind of busy - the lads are waiting," I boast.

"The lads? Who are you and what have you done with my sweet and innocent Cearm?"

"I'm sorry the old Carem can't come to the phone right now," I quote my idol Taylor Swift's hit 2017 single Look What You Made Me Do.

"Why?"

"Cause she's dead," I cackle maniacally and throw my phone at some random's head. He falls to the ground, out like a light. Nice.

"Yo Ceram, get me a beer?" His buddy next to him asks, unbothered by the unconscious man at his feet.

"You got it dude," I say as I crack open more beer bottles with my bare fingers, like the absolute unit that I am.

The party was in full swing when I entered but it's really packed right now and everyone is uncomfortably close right now - thankfully this story is set prior to the COVID-19 outbreak, otherwise this would be extra illegal, especially with all the underage drinking!!!

About 5 minutes later, I find myself standing in a corner with 4 strangers bored out of my mind. Excusing myself, I push through the crowd to search for Sue, following the smell of salt and vinegar and the crunching of chips. This place is way too packed and I can barely squeeze through, so after approximately 3 seconds of searching, I give up. I wedge through the tiny gaps and finally escape through the front door. Using Google Maps, I follow the trail to walk home, taking off my stilettos part way through the walk. I stumble through the door and pass out on what I sincerely hope is my new college bed.