My Best Friend Is Straight

The party

The music was blasting through the speakers, some new "top hit" from that dude that used to have a bowl cut. Whatever his name was. As usual, I was located far away from the sweaty, drunk bodies that grinded on each other. I never understood the fun in parties, me standing in a corner with a red, plastic cup filled with water, without a hint of alcohol in my system said as much.

Sipping quietly on my water, I looked around the living room. A couple were making out on the sofa, I wouldn't be surprised if they did it right there and then, I mean who would care? Everybody was dead drunk, nonetheless doing the same thing in various locations around the house.

My eyes finally landed on a familiar face; Eric. The most popular boy in school, both with girls and boys. Girls wanted him for his looks; 6'2, dark and curly hair, striking blue eyes, tanned body, dimples and sunkissed skin. No wonder, right? The boys didn't want him, they wanted to befriend him. He was the captain of the American football team, such a stereotype, am I right? Sometimes I wondered why he had stuck with me - the invisible no body - during all these years.

Eric was dancing with a girl I recognized as Siri; the leader of the cheerleaders. About a year back they had been in an "on-and-off" relationship. It went on for maybe half a year, then -after approximately 45 breakups- Eric stopped caring. He started dating another cheerleader which pissed Siri off. All of it ended with a catfight that our school still talked about. I must say that I was slightly disgusted as I saw her grinding her whole body on him, as if they were still together.

Eric barely even looked at her; he was looking at everything and anything. Clearly drunk. Our eyes met, and he smiled dumbly. I didn't smile back, instead I took a large gulp of my water, and sat it down on a bookcase next to me. Elbowing my way through the mass of sweaty bodies I finally made it to Eric. Siri didn't bat an eye at me, just continued grinding on the body in front of her. Eric seemed to be out of it, his eyes were empty and glossy. He had probably smoked some of that disgustingly sweet-smelling pot in the kitchen. I wrinkled my nose when I felt his breath on my face. Actually, the word "disgusting" was too nice of a description. He was still smiling stupidly.

He laughed out loud and pushed Siri to the side, successfully making her fall to the floor. I buckled under his weight when he laid his arm around me and stumbled forward. Thankfully, I regained my posture before we both fell to the ground. Pushing him up with a groan, I managed to let us stumble forward. Siri was still on the floor, forgotten.

"How do you like the party?" Eric shouted in my ear. I flinched back at the sudden stench that came from his mouth and smacked his arm. We passed the bookcase so I grabbed my almost empty cup, downing it all. I wrinkled my nose at the taste. Kind of salty. I steered us towards the door, which was hard considering that Eric was all muscular and heavy.

"You know I hate parties!" I muttered as we stumbled through the door. Laughing loudly again, Eric tripped over the shoes that piled in the hallway, face planting on the floor as I managed to let go of him in time. He laid on the floor for a while, still face down, and I almost was concerned. That is, until he turned around with a grin and pulled me down. Somehow I managed to put my arm in front of me, thus saving my face, although a sharp pain shot through my wrist as Eric rolled over, onto me, adding to my own weight. I yelped and quickly pushed him off of me.

"Goddammit Eric! I think you made me sprain my wrist!" I whisper-yelled. He looked at me, smiling, not registering a word I'd said. Standing up with a sigh, I started to look for my jacket, that for some reason had ended up on the ground, just great. Cradling my arm against my chest I picked it up and tried to put it on. Suddenly I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders.