who spiked the punch?

“Emmette.”

“Tilly?” He’s holding a plastic cup and staring at me with either disgust or relief. After everyone dispersed, we just stared at each other for a minute. I think it’s weird that when us girls go out, we get dressed in fancy clothes, makeup and high heels. But guys just throw on a tank and jeans. Me and Alex spent an hour in her closet, and all Emmette had to do was get his hands on some cheap booze and post an invite.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Emmette holds the back of his neck and takes a gulp of what I’m assuming is punch. “I came to say hi.” I toss the cup into the grass and fold my arms. “You do know that we haven’t talked in years and that we hate each other right?” He leans on the trampoline behind him and scowls at me. I don’t know what my plan was. Originally I told myself to mind my own business and have fun, but then I saw Oliver and couldn’t remember my objective anymore. “I didn’t know you had a trampoline.” I say then bite the inside of my lip. Why in the everloving hell am I trying to start small talk right now? “Seriously?” He rolls his eyes and searches behind me for a distraction. “We aren’t friends, Tilly.”

“Then why are you calling me by my nickname?” I sound cocky, but that’s the way it should be, he’s right, we aren’t friends. “Okay, Elizabeth. Why are you trying to talk to me about my trampoline? Is that some sort of new pickup line or-”

“Y’know, we could just say sorry to each other and maybe we’d both stop feeling guilty about what happened.” I snap coolly. It’s only a matter of time until the seconds slow and I start running back to Alex. But I don’t want that to happen. I genuinely want to get over our fight. “So you want me to apologize?” His pupils snap right back to staring me down into the little ball of shit that I am. “No.-” I put my hands down by my sides, “No. I want us both to apologize.”

“Why even bother? To stop feeling guilty? Guilty about what? The fact that we were never meant to be friends forever or the fact that I was never meant to kiss you?” He may as well been yelling at me, but the blood swishing around in my ears and the music in the background killed the anger that came with it. “Guilty about how we ended it, Em. We were screaming at each other and that’s not the way I want to remember us. Not for the rest of my life. As much as there was that I didn’t want to tell you, there was also so much that I couldn’t tell you.” I think I stopped thinking halfway through that rant, “Like what, man?” It’s almost as if he regretted asking that too. I could see it in his eyes. What could he see in mine? I stand there for a minute, the things I couldn’t tell him, I still can’t. And the things I didn’t want to tell him, I still don’t. “Hello? Great you’re just- tuning me out again.”

“What? Oh, um.-” I found his eyes again, “Ask- ask me anything.” He looks confused and I think I lost him. “Okay, how come I was never allowed to go to your house?” I stumble over my thoughts for a moment. I only really avoided it because Clover is weird. “I hate my aunt, and if I was gonna be in a good mood, it wouldn’t be in that apartment.” Without hesitating, Emmette’s next question rolls off the tongue. Not in a satisfying way, more so too soon, or too easily let off. “What’s the deal with your mom?”

“What?” The grass beneath my thin heels becomes like sand, so I struggle to stand. Holes poking into the Earth, reconstructing and breaking over and over. “My mom?” I am not ready to talk about this since this morning had already happened. “She’s in a coma. That’s all I can say.”

“Jesus, Elizabeth.” He sighs and rolls his eyes down to the sand grass. “What?” I sounded more distressed than I had intended. I searched his eyes for a possibility that I hadn’t screwed this up somehow. But then, anger. Why the hell should I have to tell him anything? “Forget it,” I spit and turn on my heel. “I shouldn’t have to explain my shit to any rich boy.” I can tell he’s surprised. I can hear an irritated gasp behind me as I storm off.

Now I’m pissed and have nowhere to direct my anger. I’m gonna go pick a bone with some kid. I walk past Alex, who's currently having a blast with a guy from our science class, I’ll never understand her joy in making highschool boys cry. Ironic, I’m about to go punch some guy’s lights out.

The garage is where the alcohol is left, so I assume that a lowlife drunken whore will be there. I stalk over and all the blood in my head is screwing with my thoughts and it’s hard to think straight. “Hey, jackass.” I spit a yard behind what looks like a kid named Henry. He turns around, a red cup of “punch” in his hand. I take a stance, feet a little farther apart, and get ready to swing. “Oh hey, what’s-“. I slug him right in the face and he stumbles back, the blood in my head stopped cartwheeling around and went straight to my hand in throbbing pain. “Well, that explains the thick skull.” I say, towering over Henry as he lies on the ground, his ass is wasted, sure if he was sober he’d beat my ass, today was my lucky day. Henry wipes his nose, which was now bleeding all over the concrete.

“Have a good night!” I holler, forming a heart with my hands. I guess I’ll walk home. “Tills!” A girl screams behind me, “Oh hey, Alex. You, so you didn’t see that right-“

“That was fucking amazing, you totally got his drunk ass!” Lexi hits my arm and smiles harder. “Wooh!” She lets out a loud exclamation as we head for the car. “This is a night to remember, Tilly.”

“What? The night I broke Henry’s nose for the second time?”

“Yes. Just exactly that.”

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