Big Night Out

by Tara McCarthy

  “Hey, I’m not trying to interfere. It’s just that I don’t need glasses to see that she really likes you.”

  “It’s complicated,” you mutter. Fuck, why does everything you say tonight sound like it came straight from Party of Five?

  “It’s okay, you don’t owe me any explanations. Want to get a drink? Lindy’s husband is mixing killer martinis in the kitchen.”

  Lindy’s husband, Martin, does indeed make a killer martini, and after downing half of yours you start to feel better. Suzy’ll get over whatever little phase she’s going through. Anyhow, Mark is standing so close that you can practically feel the heat emanating from his body … that lovely, manly, taut body … god, these martinis are strong. He’s gazing at you now, telling some story about his sister, or maybe his aunt—who the hell cares—and all you can think about is when one of you is going to make a move. No time to worry about Suzy. Suzy’ll be fine. She’s not crazy or anything.

  “Hey, some crazy girl is stripping on Lindy’s coffee table!”

  A red-haired guy bursts into the kitchen and makes this announcement. “You have to see this—she’s really going for it,” he yells, rushing back out.

  “Maybe we should have a look?” Mark prompts—typical guy—and you both join the audience in the living room.

  And there is Suzy, perched on a coffee table and performing an elaborate striptease to, of all things, a Bob Dylan song. Who else would try stripping to “Positively 4th Street”? A handful of guys are cheering her on, but she seems oblivious—she’s wearing the glassy stare of the utterly inebriated. Then she catches your eye and, with a whoop, unhooks her bra, twirls it over her head, and throws it at you. It lands at your feet.

  If you try to talk her down, read on here.

  What the hell, you could just get up and join her. Read on here.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said, ‘Why do you always have to be such an asshole?’”

  “You’re pathetic, man. You’d do anything for a quick buck.”

  “Anything? I thought being an extra in a movie would be pretty cool and suddenly I ‘do anything for a quick buck.’”

  “Hel-looo, we’re talking about an Ed Burns movie?”

  “What the fuck do I care whose movie it is? I just wanted to be able to go to a movie theater and see myself up there.”

  “People like you.” Dave shakes his head and spits on the sidewalk. “You make me sick. Have you ever cared about anything in your entire life?”

  “What are you talking about? Of course I have. That’s got nothing to do with this.”

  “It’s got everything to do with this. You just can’t see it because you … you know what? Forget it.” He waves his hands dismissively. “I’ll see you, man. Have fun at your little party, chasing after your new little girlfriend tonight.”

  You’re still standing there stunned, wondering what the hell just happened, when Dave disappears around a far corner.

  You go home to contemplate the apparent shallowness of your existence.

  The End

  Somehow, you can’t go talk to Mark now. This, whatever this is, has to be worked out. Maybe you should have guessed a long time ago that Suzy liked you as more than a friend. There’s no denying you spend more time with her than anyone else, that she makes you laugh and supports you and is probably the best friend you’ve ever had.

  And maybe it’s more than that.

  “Can we go outside and talk about this?” she asks, and you grab your jacket and follow her out the door.

  “Look, I know you probably don’t feel the same way,” Suzy begins, as you lean against the wall in front of Lindy’s house. She’s standing awkwardly in front of you. “You’re being really sweet by not just telling me to fuck off…”

  “I’m not just being sweet,” you hear yourself saying. “Not exactly…”

  “What then? Hey, didn’t we just have this conversation?” Now you’re both laughing, and it’s your turn to blush.

  Who knows whether it’s the number of drinks you’ve had or just because it feels like the only thing to do, but you suddenly lean toward her and kiss her on the lips. She lets out a little whimper of surprise and then deepens the kiss. Instead of feeling weird, it feels perfectly, absolutely right.

  You break away after a minute, and Suzy mumbles shyly, “I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be sorry, right?”

  “Hey, I’m the one taking advantage.” You giggle and pull her toward you again. She’s nuzzling your neck when there’s a loud cough behind you, and you jump away from each other. It’s Nick, with a huge, knowing grin on his face.

  “Sorry, girls … just wanted to let you know I’m leaving. So, er, have a fun night, okay? By the way, you both look really good in Suzy’s lipstick,” he adds, hurrying away and stifling a laugh.

  Suzy draws you close and kisses you again. “I hoped the sluttish red would work,” she says softly. “Come home with me?”

  “Well, okay. Only if you promise I don’t have to clean your apartment in the morning.”

  “For you, babe, anything.”

  The End

  “You know what?” Dave is so excited he sounds like he’s having a hard time breathing. “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? I’m going to call my friend at Entertainment Weekly and tell him about it. Then everyone will be surprised. Cool?”

  “Cool,” you say.

  Read on here.

  Once you’re on your feet you get in Mike’s face, practically bumping chests. “Where do you get off—”

  “Boys, really.” Elizabeth cuts you off. She steps up to the both of you and takes one of your hands and one of Mike’s, squeezing gently. “There’s no need to fight. It’s always been a fantasy of mine to be with two men, and I can’t think of any two—at least not men that I don’t have to pay the price of a movie ticket to see and then it’s only on celluloid—that I’d rather be with.”

  You and Mike look at each other, trying to gauge the other’s thoughts on the subject.

  “I’m game if you are,” Mike says steadily.

  If you’re totally game, read on here.

  If you’re game as long as you don’t have to do anything with Mike, read on here.

  If you’re not interested, read on here.

  That’s all it takes—soon you’re making out with gusto and it’s not bad, though Alex’s technique suffers from overenthusiasm. The next time you open your eyes, Mark and Suzy are engaged in earnest conversation on the other side of the room, and you sense that you might be the subject matter.

  Not to worry, because Alex is dragging you out of the room. “Come upstairs,” he urges. You oblige and wind up in a bedroom that must belong to one of Lindy’s kids, not that you thought she was old enough to have any. There’s baseball paraphernalia hanging on the walls and posters of bands likely to have faded into obscurity by the end of the year. At least there’s a comfortable bed, and you take advantage. Just when things are getting heavy and you’re debating whether to call a halt now, while you’re still wearing a couple of items of clothing, you realize with a shock that Alex is crying.

  “Sorry,” he’s mumbling, “it’s just, I’ve liked you for such a long time.”

  “Wait, we just met,” you point out. “I’ve never seen you before, have I?”

  And then Lindy walks in, sees the two of you, and gasps.

  “Allie! Get downstairs this second! What would your mother say? And really,” she addresses you, “couldn’t you have found someone your own age?”

  “Sorry, Aunty Lindy, but I can’t go,” Alex wails. “I love her! I’ve loved her for years!”

  As you gaze at him in amazement, a tiny spark of recognition begins to glow in those parts of your brain not doused with alcohol. It all makes awful, terrible sense. Alex … Allie. Little Allie Walsworth, whom you used to babysit back in high school when he was … Jesus Christ. That would make him …

  “You’re sixteen?!” you shriek.

  “In June…�
�� he mumbles. “But I love you! I’ve loved you for years, ever since you let me stay up late to watch TV when you were babysitting! And then I saw you tonight and knew we could be together!”

  “I’d like to send God a pillow so he could suffocate me in my sleep,” you moan.

  Lindy looks less horrified now; in fact she’s obviously trying to suppress roars of laughter. “You couldn’t have known. He looks older, don’t you, Alex? His mother spends a lot of time in Europe so he often stays here with me. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence.… Alex, you should have told her who you were.”

  “But then she wouldn’t have given me a chance! And now, you’ll go out with me, won’t you?” he sniffs.

  “Sure, Allie. As soon as I’ve served my time for violating a minor, I’m going to come look for you, babe.”

  It is definitely time to leave. Who knows where Mark is, and who cares. Lindy is sure to rush back downstairs and tell everyone what just happened, and you can’t stand the humiliation. You leave Lindy’s house, with Alex still calling after you as you climb into a taxi.

  “Maybe in a few years! You’ll grow to love me!”

  The End

  “You’re right, fuck him.” Elizabeth’s voice suddenly sounds raspier. “No, don’t. Fuck me.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Mike’s voice is barely a whisper.

  In an instant you’re covered in jackets, which you can only assume Mike and Elizabeth have tossed onto the floor in a relatively considerate gesture when you consider the garments’ potential fate had they stayed on the bed. Through layers of jackets you hear the muffled noises of Mike and Elizabeth’s lovemaking.

  Him: “Oh, yeah.”

  Her: “Ow! No, not there.”

  Him: “Mmmmn. I’m so hard.”

  Her: “Where is it?”

  Him: “Coming right up, baby.”

  Her: “Wait. Shit. You’re too heavy.”

  Him: “Better?”

  Her: “No, not really.”

  Him: “Mmmmnn. You’re so wet.”

  Her: “You know what? Forget it.”

  Him: “What?”

  Her: “Forget it. This just doesn’t feel right.”

  Him: “Come on, baby. I know I can make you feel good.”

  Her: “Quit calling me baby.”

  Him: “What’s a matter, baby?”

  Her: “God, you’re pathetic. You think women like this kind of shit?”

  Him: “What shit?”

  Her: “Mmmn baby this. And mmmn baby that. ‘Coming right up.’ Give me a break.”

  Him: “Don’t talk to me like that, bitch.”

  Her: “Oh, yeah, that’s mature.”

  Him: “Mature would be to get your ass back over here and finish what you started.”

  Her: “I don’t need to hear any more of this.”

  Him: “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Her: “Somewhere where you’re not.”

  Him: “Get over here.”

  Her: “Let go of me.”

  Sounds of struggle ensue.

  You kick free of the jackets and stand—way too quickly, considering how long you’ve been lying down. You teeter once you’re on your feet, then fall face forward onto the bed, only narrowly avoiding Mike.

  “What the hell!” Mike looks over at you.

  You get up and steady yourself as quickly as you can.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” He is not pleased.

  “That’s not important. But from the way you’ve been acting it’s a good thing I was here.” You turn to your damsel in distress. “Are you okay, Elizabeth?”

  “She’s fine,” Mike insists.

  “You know what,” you say—and remember you’ve had more drinks than you admitted to Dr. Drew—“Why don’t you just whip it out so we can get this over with? You’re always trying to prove you can get every girl I want and that you’re more of a man, and I’m sick of it.” You start undoing your belt.

  “Close your eyes, Elizabeth,” Mike says. “If you see the pathetic little worm I’m sure this guy’s got in his pants you might never be able to look any male specimen—let alone him—straight in the face again.”

  “I don’t know.” Elizabeth smiles as you start undoing your button-fly jeans. “It was pretty impressive last time I saw it, and we were only twelve.”

  “Alright,” Mike says. “You’re on, ace.” He starts undoing his own pants.

  “I didn’t realize guys actually did this,” Elizabeth says. “I mean, girls are always saying that—‘Those two should just whip ’em out and get it over with’—but we didn’t think guys actually did it.”

  “We don’t,” you say.

  “First time for everything,” Mike says.

  If you really don’t want to go through with this, read on here.

  If, in your drunken state, you feel compelled to see this ridiculous display of male competitiveness to its conclusion, read on here.

  You back away slightly just as Alex is preparing for the Lunge. “Maybe we shouldn’t.” You smile politely.

  “Why not? What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me? Nothing.”

  “So why back out now?”

  “I don’t want to kiss you, that’s all.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “A goldfish with a learning disorder could fool you.”

  “Why are you being such a bitch all of a sudden?”

  “Sorry.” You sigh. “You’re right; I’m being a bitch. It’s just that I’m having a really weird night and things haven’t turned out as I hoped, that’s all.”

  “That’s okay. Look, you wanna go smoke a joint? My brother has some stuff.”

  “Sure.” You shrug.

  “Wait here and I’ll go ask him.” Alex gets up and walks over to … Mark. Alex is Mark’s brother. No wonder Alex seemed familiar—they do look alike, now that you see them together. With a sickening lurch you remember that Mark has mentioned having one brother, but he told you his brother was sixteen. Sixteen. My god, what you almost did … it doesn’t bear thinking about.

  When Alex returns, you look him in the eye and say, “You’re sixteen, aren’t you?”

  He blushes furiously. “Who told you?”

  “I know your brother. You look a lot older than sixteen, but then you knew that.”

  “Okay, so I’m sixteen. We can still go out and smoke, can’t we? Mark said he’s gonna come, too.”

  Lindy has specified that she doesn’t want anyone smoking dope inside, so there’s a cluster of people congregated in her backyard. You and Alex traipse out, closely followed by Suzy and Mark.

  “Hey,” Suzy catches up with you, tugging your sleeve, “are you ignoring me?”

  “Should I be?”

  “There’s nothing going on,” she says quietly, gesturing toward Mark. “We talked, we danced, end of story. I wasn’t flirting with him, and vice versa. He asked about you.”

  “He did?” Oh, to be wearing a school uniform and braids.

  “He was wondering why you were talking to his little brother. I kept waiting for you to come over and say hi.” She nudges you and passes the joint to you. “So go talk to him.”

  “In a second.” You inhale deeply. “Wait till I get my nerve.”

  “No, do it now. Come on. Before somebody else…” Even as she’s saying the words, a girl you recognize as Meg, Mark’s ex, comes over, locks him in a bear hug, and squeals. “Oh Maaark! It’s so good to see you! I hoped you’d be here!”

  “Meg, I thought we agreed to avoid each other for a while?” Mark looks embarrassed and annoyed.

  “I don’t wanna.” She pouts. “It’s stupid, us splitting up like this. Come over here and talk to me.” She tries dragging him away, but he firmly removes her arm from his jacket, then whispers something to Suzy, smiles at you, and tells Alex he’s going home.

  “He’s going?” You stare after him, aghast. Meg is trailing him back into the house, but
he hasn’t even turned to look at her.

  “Hey it’s okay, don’t worry!” Suzy beams. “He just told me he’d be in the International tomorrow night at nine and that he hoped he’d see us there!”

  “Really? Oh, that’s great!” The relief!

  “Wait, did he say the International or the Continental?” She furrows her brow in concentration.

  “Suzy, which one was it?”

  “The International! I’m sure! Though it might be the Continental. We can try both!”

  “Not again, Suzy … I need another drink.”

  The End

  You walk into a party in an overcrowded, pitch-dark loft and are convinced you’ll never find any of your friends. Instead, you decide to seek out the alcohol supply. There, at a folding table covered with bottles of booze and mixers, you make yourself the stiffest gin and tonic you’ve ever had.

  “Had a rough night?”

  You turn and see it’s Sadie standing next to you. She looks flushed, like she’s been fucking—or, and admittedly more likely, just dancing. There’s loud house music pounding through the room.

  “Not the best night I’ve ever had. But getting better by the minute.”

  She smiles at what you meant to be an offhanded compliment. Did it come out right? Did it make sense?

  “Did you come alone?” She reaches for the gin, and her bare arm brushes against yours.

  You nod somberly. “That wasn’t the idea, but the two people I was with decided they wanted to partake in activities with one another of which I couldn’t really be a part.”

  She laughs that laugh you love so. It’s like caged-up glee suddenly set free.

  “Oh my god,” she says. “The same exact thing happened to me. Well, sort of. I brought my friend Elaine with me, and she’s off making out with some guy on the dance floor.”

  “What do you say we join them?”

  Her mouth drops open.

  “I mean, on the dance floor. Do you want to dance?” God, you can be such an idiot sometimes. You’d swear you were at a high-school dance or something.