ETHEREAL

CHAPTER 11

It feels strange to be getting ready to go to a party without Damien, when we usually go to parties together. I start to wonder, randomly, if the only time he feels happiness is when he is at a party, drunk on someone else's alcohol, since we're not old enough to buy it ourselves. That is also when he feels free enough to kiss and make out with me. I still feel like I don't really know much about him, since he goes out of his way to dodge any type of inquiries, and he gets annoyed when I ask too many questions. I shake my head. I'm not going to be that girl that can't have fun without her ... what is he to me? Boyfriend? Friend? Crush? ... without my whatever-he-is. I'm going to finished getting dressed and have fun with my friends, without worrying about Damien's mental state, for once.

I spend the night dancing with my friends in Alex's glamorously darkened loft overlooking the city, and intermittently texting Damien. After a while, his texts become fewer and fewer, and I start to get worried. Justin yells over "Teenage Dream," "Don't worry about him, have fun, Skye!"

Spencer drinks more of his mojito and vigorously nods with him. "I don't know, I can't... I think I have to leave."

Spencer puts his drink down. "Then, we're coming with you," he solemnly states.

"Oh, hell no, we are?!," Justin exclaims in his Kevin Hart high-pitched voice.

Damien hasn't answered any of my texts, and we pull up to Maurel's house at about 1:30 AM. "Alright, you guys wanna come in with me?" There is a blaring silence, and I laugh. "Well, I thought so. I'll be just a minute." I step out and head through the throng of people outside. There is still a lot of people inside, as well, and I can't find Damien, nor Maurel.   A guy steps in front of me and slowly in a shocked way says, "You're so hot...," and it seems to be an uncomfortable reoccurring theme at all of these wayward parties. I declare with a smug confidence that I don't feel at the moment, pushing my swoop bangs to the side, "I know," and step around him.

I start to panic, and I walk down the hallway, with the floor riddled in alcohol and cigarette stains, and God only knows what else. The syrupy, smoky haze is so heavy that I start to cough. This is going to permeate my clothes and hair, ugh. I peer into a random room, and Damien is all alone. He is staring into space and leaning against a table. He looks like he can barely stand up.

"Skye! Skye... is that you? I was wishing for you to come here, and you came! Or... am I dreaming?" Damien looks so out of it, and he is smiling, but he appears to be incredibly sad.

"Um, Damien, let's go home," I plead.

"Home? Will you come with me?" He sounds so hopeful.

I want to sleep in my own bed tonight, and not have a repeat of what happened on Halloween, but I keep that to myself, and slightly lie since I will drive him home, but I know that I won't come inside, "Yeah, I'll come with you, just come on!"

Damien tries to push off from the table and stumbles. He grabs back onto the table behind him, and mumbles, "I don't know. I think this is a dream."

All I see is him, and I have to save him.

All of a sudden, Justin appears behind me. "Skye, why are you taking so damn long, damn! Are y'all making out or something? ... Why are you just hanging out alone in the hallway? Ewwwwww... that floor is covered in puke."

Justin is staring at the carpet that Damien is currently standing on, and he isn't exaggerating. The entire room looks like it was used solely as a place to vomit, then leave without ever cleaning it up. I thought that I had seen a trashed room when I first saw Damien's, but that is nothing compared to this sight.

I realize that the only way I'm going to get everyone back home, including myself, is to physically drag Damien out of this wretched, Godforsaken place. Ugh. I take a deep breath, and start crunching my relatively new birthday gifted UGGs across the most disgusting floor that I have ever laid eyes on, and I don't look down, not even once, but I can hear the noise. It resembles the squishing sound of a spoon against cold, coagulated mac n' cheese.

Justin looks disgustingly horrified, and quietly, dejectedly exclaims, "Skye, you are insane."

I grab Damien by the wrist, and calmly say, "Hey, I'm here, I'm real, let's go home," and he nods, relieved.

He stumbles again, and I half-drag, half-support him to the hallway, until Justin, and now Spencer, take over. "Skye, your UGGs are ruined, they smell terrible, you can't get into your car like that," and I know that Justin is simply stating the truth.

I try to wipe them off onto the grass, and it helps a bit, but Justin is definitely correct. I take off my UGGs, and walk barefoot across the rough gravel road, stones pinching my feet all of the way, and think to myself, Grandma was right...  all of my good deeds will be punished.

Spencer hauls Damien into the front passenger seat of my car and I throw my UGGs into the trunk.

"We'll follow you to Damien's house, Skye," Spencer yells out, and I feel grateful to have such purely good friends. He gets into Damien's car with Justin.