The Racquet Accident

Chapter Six: Another Pitstop.

Chapter Six: "Another Pitstop."

"JOSIAH SAID HE'S throwing a party that night," Iman informed us.

"Hmm.," Clayton contemplated Iman's words, his fingers tapping the screen of his iPad. He was currently wearing a dress shirt and pants, looking everything like a business major would be stereotyped. Besides the baseball cap that was covering his brown hair. His fair skin was currently rosy from rushing over here after a networking event. Clayton glanced up at Iman, his brown eyes determined, "We should be able to make it as a pitstop."

"Pitstop," I repeated, glancing over at Jaime who was sitting next to him. But all Jay did was give me a big grin like this was supposed to be normal. 

Then again it was Homecoming. 

We—me, Jaime, Clayton, Iman, and Yasmeen were crowded around the kitchen table that Friday afternoon as we spoke about our Homecoming plans for tomorrow.

"And how many um, pitstops are we planning on taking?" I asked.

Jaime and Clayton exchanged a look. These two and their party marathons. I groaned out loud, glancing over at Iman. "You are coming right?" Mariam wasn't here this year because of med school and the distance. Cori would've joined us but she wasn't going to be attending Homecoming this year either. 

If it was only me, Jay, and Clayton? There was no way I was going to be alone in following them. Not because they weren't a good time but because they together could be too much of a good time. 

"You said you would!" Jaime exclaimed, pointing a finger in Iman's direction. "You've never done Hoco with us."

"Because he doesn't want to get sucked into your party marathon," I told her.

"It's a good marathon," She stressed. "Remember last year?"

"Remember when we lost Mariam?" I reminded her. Our friend had wandered off to God knows where. It took us calling Yasmeen from where she was hanging out with a few other friends to join us in the hunt for Mariam that night. We found her five blocks over at a random party, dancing in the middle of someone's living room. That night was hectic, yeah, but it was fun.

"And from my memory when I found you guys, Clayton had thrown up," Iman said. "Three times. Twice in a bush."

"The drinking culture at this university seriously needs to be studied," Yasmeen muttered.

Whenever we had an event like Homecoming, Yasmeen would part take in the morning activity of everyone in the student body crowded along one street: Parkdale Lane. People used it as a good time to speak to others, some used it to break into people's houses and steal lamps (Mariam) and others used it to be an observer. Like me.

After Parkdale, people went to the football game, then the concert held by the student council. After recovering, we'd all head out to night parties while Yas usually had other things to do with other friends. She didn't drink but she has witnessed the effects alcohol had on us on some occasions when she came home, got a text message or a random voice call from one of us that likely was filled with how much we missed her.

I've never relistened to those voice messages. It was too cringe but they made Yas happy.

This year, Mariam would probably be getting the pictures too. This would be our first homecoming without her. Not to mention it was going to be our last. I didn't really become friends with the group until halfway through our second year so that first time we were all together was truly the last time about a year ago.

The thought sent a pang to my chest as Yasmeen tapped on his iPad at the destinations Clayton and Jaime had planned out, "Ten different parties?"