-Three Years Ago- “Hey, Violet and… Frank! Welcome to the party,” the girl who invited me to her party shouted as she opened the door for us at her home. What’s her name? What’s her name?

“Hi, Dana,” I spoke indistinctly. “This is Frank, my best friend.”

Dana giggled, covering her mouth with her fingers. “I know, Violet.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re unfashionable late. Good for you for making a great first impression at your first high school bash. Booze is that way.” She pointed to the kitchen where several jocks smashed beer cans against their heads.

“You’re unfashionable late,” Frank mocked Dana as we strode away to the kitchen. “I can’t stand her.”

“Come on, Frank,” I pouted. “Stop crapping all over my birthday and have a good time tonight for me, as a minimum. You’re like a damn seagull that ate those burritos at a truck stop that obviously didn’t blend well in your stomach.” I smiled and grabbed a beer for Frank and I. “Drink up.”

“Wait, wait,” Frank stopped me before I began to sip my some of my drink. “A toast, Violet, for being best friends for technically seventeen years, but we’ll say eighteen to throw people off.”

“Cheers mate.” I clanged my beer can with Frank’s and top a gulp. The inside of my mouth tingled when the beer went down my throat.

“Now what do we do?” Frank questioned, observing the party goers.

I examined girls in too short of skirts, stripper shoes, and tank tops that showed their sinister colored bra. Guys’ baseball caps were on backwards as their tongues glided through random women’s mouths. Then I saw a group of young men and women dancing next to an enormous stereo while hip hop and rap music blasted throughout the house.

“We can dance I suppose,” I guessed, chugging the rest of my beer and obtaining another one.

“I’ll join in when the time is right,” Frank blushed. Evidently he didn’t want to dance in front of everyone. He normally does dance when we are just hanging out together.

I nodded and headed my way over where the dancing was taking place. I squeezed my way in between the inhabitants of the ‘dance floor’ and wiggled my hips to the music, hoping I was on beat. Before I knew it, the rest of my beer was gone down my throat and I asked a guy I was rubbing my ass against to get me another one. He instantaneously got hold of one for me.

“I’m Alan,” he shouted in my ear drum. “Do you go to Dana Meyer’s school?”

“Yes, I do,” I yelled back, facing his direction with my face instead of my ass. “I’m Violet Murkowski!”

“It’s nice to meet you, Violet. You want to leave?”

I blanked. “Leave where?”

“Outside,” he replied, smirking at my distinguishing quality of being a dork. “Dana has a swing set in her backyard.”

“Uh, sure,” I answered, out of breath from dancing. I searched for Frank around the room, but did not see him. He’s probably hidden underneath the staircase.

Alan walked me outside, stealing two more beers for the both of us.

As soon as we darted out the backdoor, the music was gone and I could hear perfectly.

“So, Violet, you’re awfully beautiful,” Alan complimented me.

I blushed. “Thanks,” I snorted. A snort: so unappealing. “Uh, you too,” I looked away.

He was cute, I must admit. He had brown, military cut hair with dark brown eyes and tan skin. He was wearing black fitting jeans and a plain navy blue shirt.

Alan cackled. “You’re not use to the whole flattering remark thing, are you?”

“No, I am. I just don’t know how to act in response to compliments. I don’t know what to do in must situations that have nothing to do with Star Wars.” I coughed and my jaw dropped as I realized what I just blurted out.

He smiled sweetly, opening his beer.

“I’m misplaced, really,” I exploded again with indiscriminate words that entered my mind. Damn, Violet! “My friend isn’t here. He’s frequently with me twenty four hours of the day and without him I’m like a drunken monkey trying to get off a merry-go-round.”

“Violet Murkowski,” Alan whispered, pulling me over to the swing sets in Dana’s backyard.

“I don’t know you’re last name.”

“No need to.” He sat down on the swing and motioned me to sit down also.

I obeyed, tossing my third beer can on the grass, and acquired a fourth one from Alan’s hands.

“You’re quite the drinker, huh?” Alan raised his eyebrows. “My kind of girl,” he said.

“I must be quite the drinker, but who knows if I can stomach it. I haven’t drunk this much since I found out I am an implementation alcoholic.” There was a pause. “That was my attempt at a joke, Alan. I’m awkward.” I rolled my eyes. “Hey, tonight’s my birthday,” I spoke with slurring letters rather than words.

“Happy birthday,” he hooted. “How old are you, Violet?”

“Eighteen. I know, right?” I winked.

“You know, if you kiss me tonight, you’ll be breaking the law.”

I thought about it. “Who said I was going to kiss you?”

“Me,” Alan bit his lip and tilted over the swing, kissing me delicately.

Notes

Personally, I'm proud of myself for this. Originally I wasn't going to go in this direction, but it's better than my other plan.

Thanks for reading!
-christy-