the (after) life of the party

"I mean, depends on what shit you find scary, but this is more thriller than horror." Gabe pressed play on the remote. "So you should be good."

"Spying? Are you serious? You keep all your shit out in the open, Sam. What would I need to spy for?" Nate waved his brother off before circling back to the question. "If your nosy ass must know, I'm looking for my glasses."

"I don't want to," she uttered frailly. "I want to love you. You're good and kind and sweet to me." With tear-blurred vision, Krysta closed the flower dictionary on her lap. "Please don't make me."

"Ian, what the hell are you talking about? I haven't said anything about being in love with Elijah. When would I—" Realization hit Chase like a snow-covered brick. Chance. That motherfucker. "I'm kicking his ass."

“Uh, you okay, dude?” Maybe he should’ve gotten him a mood ring or something, Sam mused with a frown. “If you don’t want it, I’ll give it to Stacey,” he offered, hand outstretched for the bear before dropping it with a shrug. “Up to you.” His lips quirked up in a slight smirk before they lifted into a full grin, he counted the other’s laugh as a win. “Listen. You should’ve known I’d be here. Carnival food and the Gravitron? I’m not leaving until I puke at least once. It’s tradition.” A laugh broke free as he imagined himself getting up on stage to do just that. “I mean, I probably could, but then I don’t think I’ll ever be able to come back. They’d probably put my photograph up in one of the security booths up front and like I said, it’s tradition so I can’t break it now. It’s why I’m here.”

With a roll of his shoulders, he gestured toward the opposite of where River indicated. “Plus, my family’s here for a few of the crop competitions and my mom banned me after I almost  dropped one of our prized pumpkins.” Sam kept to himself the fact that he also might’ve eaten one of her pies for the baking competition, but he was sure his mouth was still stained a bit, not that he had any regrets for what he’d done.

He shook his head and placed the small plush on Sam’s shoulder. Stacey would appreciate the gift a lot more. Besides, River didn’t know how to make new memories without opening up old wounds. Hope had made sure of that. “Yeah, all good.” Once the bear sat without wobbling, River eased his hand away. “Y’know, seems to me like you had this all planned out." The lights from the ferris wheel reflected in River’s glasses. “You coulda bee-lined all the way to that Gravitron by now. Yet, here you are. Botherin’ me like you ain’t got nothing else to do.” River moved to give the new target practice contestants some space. Of which, Sam wasn’t giving him. No matter where River went, Sam always popped up somehow. The curse of a small town, he supposed. “You know you’re not my type, right?” River lied. “Don’t you have a girlfriend or somethin’ anyway?” The smell of cotton candy and deep-fried pickles swept inside his nose and his stomach rumbled in response. River was too hungry to argue with Sam right now. “Look, you might be filled up on pie,” he gestured at Sam’s cheek, “but I wanna get some of Brynn’s famous cheesecake before she sells out.”

The ice in his glass clinked together as it melted. No matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't be the right thing to say. His half-empty cup was chipped around the rim. "Because..." Calvin swallowed. The urge to circle his finger along the jagged edge was inescapable. "Because there wasn't anything to say. It's not like... those feelings were going to change." Calvin's eyes finally met Marty's as he forced his hands to his lap. "Feelings don't have to be talked about. I just need to," sad laughter forced itself past his lips, "handle them better." He offered his friend a smile. "Look, I'm staying away from the ocean. And I even deleted my sad playlist. That's probably progress, right?"

“How suspiciously nice of him.” Slater would put, like, fifty bucks up of his own money betting the guy didn’t exactly wait around to read Freddy a bedtime story. “Sure. Who doesn’t want to choose mitochondria over beer pong? You ask me, you were the one missing out.” He waited until the rustling stopped, and Kale was once more making his way back to his bed, before turning himself over onto his back. His arms stretched overhead, spine stiffening as he stretched. Slater fixated his slanted gaze at him all the while. He could barely make out the faded words on his t-shirt in the dim lighting. You know where to shove it. “A girl.” He scoffed, with an air of embarrassment. As much as he didn’t want to admit to it, he and Kale both knew none of those were coming around here anytime soon. “Yeah, okay. With the sound of those footsteps?” A yawn broke through, and a smile threatened to tug at the corner of his lips. “Either it’s you, or a wild horse somehow found it’s way in here.” Either way, his parents would have something to say about it in the morning. Slater shifted to the side, lifting the covers up for him. He waited a minute before speaking. He didn’t want to tell him that he’d gotten dressed. Made it to his door, came back to his bed. Then repeated the process three times before effectively talking himself of going to said party. Slater already knew what he’d say. You should have come. Live a little bit. A heaviness pooled in his stomach before he shook it away by inclining his head to the empty spot next to him. “I, uh - worked a little on that song I told you about. But it ended up sounding like the theme from the Office, so now Misty has a new paper crown.” Another in the line of many sitting around her terrarium. He sucked, but he wasn’t environmentally irresponsible. “And then I watched the Office. Which is objectively the most boring thing I could have done, so. What else happened tonight?  Any drama worth gossiping about?”  

“So what you’re saying is, you’re a genius jingle-maker.” Kale laid on his side, both hands under his right cheek, considering, and then deciding against asking Slater to write him a song. He’d do that later. It was gossip time. “There was some new guy there. Tyler. Or was it Kyle? Something basic like that. Came with Delaney and Dylan.” His voice was warm and whispered as he spoke. “But he left with Freddy. He looked familiar as fuck though. I think he was in elementary school with us?” Kale shrugged. “Maybe he just had one of those faces. I dunno. Anyway, Neze and Margaux were there too. Not together. I think they’re still, you know, off right now. The tension was thick, dude. You could cut that shit with a knife.” Kale laughed through his nose and turned onto his back, making the bed creak. “But tell me why they went upstairs together.” Kale shook his head. “The makeup sex must be killer.” Their elbows knocked as the taller of the two got comfortable. “I don’t think I could do that.” As much as Kale talked the talk, he didn’t like walking it. He was always the in-between, the rebound, the casual fuck before someone found who they were really meant to be with. His hookups were strictly no strings attached and no hearts broken. He wouldn’t know what it felt like to be in love if he tried. “Oh,” he remembered. “Your best friend, Onyx, was there.” He grinned, finally closing his eyes to the aching thrum inside his skull. “You two’d be hot together, you know. Emo guy with the cute boy next door. It’s prime porn content.” He turned his head, peeking one eye open at Slater. Kale loved teasing him. “Don’t tell Henry and Hudson though. I don’t want them stealing my good ass ideas.” Not that they would. The Hickey twins were too business savvy for their own good. Kale wet his lips after a moment. “So… There’s another party next week. And before you say "no,” it’s, like, a real one. Legit. It’s for the label. Johnny’s making it this whole big thing. You can be my plus one. I mean, it might help if you rubbed shoulders with some higher-ups and,” he scrunched his brow, “networked. I mean, I know your parents could— Fuck.” Kale rubbed high on his nose bridge. “Do you... Do you have any Advil?”