Rumor Has It

three.

.

« rumor has it: three. »

[continued night of august 17th]

          The boy who greeted us at the door stood on the other side of the threshold with a drunken smile. "Kurtis!" He spoke in an obnoxious volume, "How've you been man?" He brought Kurtis in for a quick hug, careful not to spill a drop from the can of Busch Light that he held onto.

          I watched in amusement as Kurtis patted his back and subtly pushed away from him. "I've been good." An uncomfortable laugh escaped Kurtis as he proceeded into the room. I followed close behind.

          As soon as the door fell shut behind us, I became overwhelmed by everything in the room. Everything was compacted, there was almost no room to move around, and it absolutely wreaked of booze. A broken speaker set sat against the wall to my right playing horrible rap music. The buzz of one of the blown out speakers would surely give me a headache before the night was over. 

          There had to have been twenty people crammed into this room, three of which I saw were sitting up on the lofted bed looking down on everyone else. Others crowded around any structure that they could sit on. Meaningless conversations filled the room making it hard to even hear yourself think.  At least half of the room had to have been piss drunk at this point. Loud, stupid laughter sprung up in different conversations. I looked around and tried to find a place to settle, but there was nowhere to go other than to stand and lean against the wall.

          I jumped a bit when I felt something awfully cold press against my arm. Kurtis stood there holding out a beer for me while he took a swig of the one he had for himself. I took it from his hand and mumbled a thank you.

+

          About an hour after arriving, or so it felt like, many began to leave once they noticed they were running low on beer. Kurtis says it's a normal thing; they never want to pitch in to help buy, but they'll come to drink it all. There was only a small group of us left in the room. The six of us who remained in the room somehow ended up sitting on the floor in an unorganized manner playing a of variation of the game twenty questions. I was only paying slight attention to the drunken conversations going on around me.

          My body sat slumped in a bean bag chair in the corner uncomfortably. Every now and then I had to adjust myself because I somehow felt as if my body was being swallowed up by the bag. I quickly came to the conclusion that here is no way to sit casually in a bean bag chair. I felt myself beginning to slip into the abyss of the bean bag chair again and struggled to pull myself upright.  A few noticed and began to giggle at my struggle.

          "Okay, it's time to give Miss Tipsy a question over there."

          "I'm not even drunk," I grunted as I pushed myself upwards, "I just can't get comfortable in this damn thing." The guys in the circle all laughed as I continued to fight the bean bag until I found a comfortable position. "Okay," I sighed sitting up straighter, "all good."

          Another guy, with blinding blond hair and a goofy smile, looked at everyone in the circle for a moment before looking back to me. "I'm going to be very straight up about my question for you. Please tell me you're single."

          There was a short silence that fell over the group. A few of the others appeared to be holding their breath to hear the answer. 

          "What the hell does it matter to you, Zack? You wouldn't do shit - you never do!" Ryan, one of Kurtis' friends, shot back at the boy. "I could have a girl walk in here right now, sit on your lap, start making out with you, and I bet you would still manage to think of some dumb ass excuse to go back home."