Chaos Theory

chapter five

Darcie texts him an hour and a half later: where r uuuu???

He's been hiding in the guest bedroom for the entire time. He'd found a bookshelf tucked against the far wall and chosen a random book to pass the time until she was ready to go.

Del couldn't make himself go back down the stairs, back down into the basement. The whole thing felt like a bad idea. His body balked every time he tried to psych himself into it and Del let it.

He feels like a coward. He is a coward.

Darcie pushes open the door and stumbles into the room eight minutes after he texts her where he is. She's glaring at him with intoxicated eyes. Her lipstick is even more messed up now, her hair slightly tangled on the right side. "You're hiding."

Del closes his book and stands from where he'd folded himself into the stiff armchair in the corner. He doesn't answer.

"Del," Darcie calls. She's frowning exaggeratedly. It reminds him of a cartoon. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Do you think I bought that?"

"You really are this articulate when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," She scoffs, and she's totally drunk. "Don't change the subject. Cody's been worried about you."

Del tilts his head. "Cody?"

And Darcie knows she has him here. Her frown turns into a wobbly grin. "Yeah, found me and Robin freaking out about a bathroom and you disappearing and acting like you were dead," Darcie snorts and stands up tall, squaring her shoulders. "But I knew you were probably hiding in a bathroom, not using one. And look, I was right. Sort of."

Del ignores her smugness to focus on the fact that Cody, popular Cody who has so many people to worry about already, switched his focus onto him, because he was concerned.

"Is he, um, still looking for me?"

"Well, Robin started puking so he stopped to help her, but he told me to let him know you were alive. He's a bit dramatic, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is," Del grins.

She makes a gagging sound. "You guys are already disgusting."

"We're just friends," Del pretends he didn't just spit out the word. "If even. That's all."

"Tell that to someone who's blind."

"Maybe someone who's sober."

She swats at him, and Del dodges it easily.

"Come on," He wraps his arm around her shoulders. She's begun to sway and though she may persist she isn't drunk, Del does not want her to fall down the stairs. "Let's go home."

"We're going back to your house?"

"Wasn't that the plan?"

"I mean," Darcie grips the back of his shirt a little harder as they navigate down the staircase. There aren't as many people as there were when the night was younger; more are passed out on couches, on the dining room table. "I was scared as shit to go home cause my parents would have caught on, but I didn't want to ask."

"As if you even have to ask."

"You're right, your family loves me more than you."

"Don't push it."

She cackles all the way to Patsy, and even more when she can't buckle her seatbelt and Del has to do it for her. He lets her have her fun.

They're about five minutes away from his house when Darcie speaks up again. She's been leaning her head against the window and watching the scenery pass for most of the drive, and Del can tell she's winding down. Her eyelids keep fluttering as she tries to keep awake. This is the part of drunk Darcie he's most familiar with; when she and Indie come home at the end of the night, worn down and blissfully intoxicated.