"Eleanor, I need you to stay away from me." He says as he holds tight onto my hand. I look up at him in confusion and hurt. No hint of anger is in his eyes.
"What, why?" I ask, voice breaking.
"I just need you to trust me okay? I don't want you to g...
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I was 13 years old the first time I got drunk. Isaac and I were both stuck at the housewarming party my dad had thrown to celebrate our move, but I didn't feel like celebrating not being Isaac's neighbor anymore. I had begged my father to let Isaac spent the night, and he only agreed to because he thought Mr. Lahey might be grateful for the night off. The news of Camden's death was still fresh and my dad did whatever he could to help out.
Drunk adults were crowded so tight around the entire lower level of my house that it was hard to find a place to get away. I'm not sure exactly what possessed me to do it, but halfway through the night I swiped two half-empty bottles of wine and dragged Isaac to my room. I had to convince Isaac that it was a good idea. He seemed increasingly worried that his father would find out and get upset, but I assured him that since he was spending the night at my house that wouldn't happen.
"But what if your dad finds out?" Isaac asked, looking over at the closed bedroom door.
"He's too busy with his party," I said, passing him a bottle, "He'll probably think we just went to bed."
We drank the wine straight from the bottle, switching after every sip. Before long we were both in a fit of giggles and the room was swaying. Isaac emptied his pockets to reveal to chocolate bars he has stolen from my pantry and we fought over who would get what. At some point I ended up on top of him, pinning him to the floor in an attempt to snatch a bar from his hand. His lips were unfocused in my vision, but filled with drunken confidence, I leaned down and pressed mine against them. I watched as his eyes went wide, and then close as he tentatively kissed me back. He tasted like wine, melted chocolate and sweat.
When a knock sounded at the door I jumped off Isaac so fast that I smashed into the pair of wine glasses. They both fell, leaving a stain of red wine all over the carpet. Hearing the commotion, my dad opened the door to see what was going on. I don't think I had ever seen my dad so angry, but he yelled at us in a hushed tone.
"What were you two thinking!" He whispers fiercely while trying to mop up the wine with a nearby towel, "I have never been so disappointed--"
I didn't hear the rest because all at once my stomach churned and I ran to the toilet. Between fits of throwing up I could hear Isaac pleading with my father not to tell his dad. I was surprised to hear him crying, something I had never heard him do. It must have shocked my father as well because he promised not to say anything as long as we stayed out of trouble for the rest of the night and cleaned up the party tomorrow morning.
The next day we cleaned the house spotless while both sporting our first hangovers. I couldn't decide what was worse; the hangover, the pile of dishes, or the hour long lecture we both received on the damage that underaged drinking had on the human body. By the time Isaac was picked up the following afternoon we had both decided that the risk was not worth the reward. I was too shy to bring up the kiss, and Isaac acted like it hadn't even happened, so we never spoke of it. However that was the moment I knew I had fallen in love with Isaac Lahey.
