This is the point where the reader will start to realize they are dealing with a dreadfully unreliable narrator. Like most things associated with fading memories, certain details are obscured simply because they never really made much of an impact. All of the moments in the past two entries might seem frivolous, or even slight, but they are all things that will come back later in the story. Even the bits of occasionally recreated dialog (and more that a few direct quotes) will probably resurface at one point or another.
I call myself an unreliable narrator because I ended that last instalment on a bit of a false cliffhanger. There was something in that final exchange that was important and most readers over the age of twelve should be able to piece it all together with ease. The final bit about the party being thrown by the first person K ever slept with will turn out to be almost completely immaterial to the rest of the story. The character will never be referenced again since I don’t run into him but once in the rest of this general timeline and even then I almost forgot who he was. He was just this guy who was throwing this party. In the end, his backstory didn’t matter.
Maybe it’s the added benefit that I have knowing how this whole thing is going to end and to be able to convey only the key details relevant to get there. More likely than not it’s because I was pretty tipsy at the party. I wasn’t my usual awkward, stand-over-by-the-wall-and-wait-for-someone-to-talk-to-me self. I was the little social butterfly that night, flitting about from person to person with K not too far behind.
I wanted to make a good impression. I made all my own introductions to people I would never see again except for K’s friend Sasha who will show up in a later chapter of the story. The people were forgettable, the card games were forgettable, beer pong was beer pong, boys were boys and girls were girls. I was cognizant of the fact that I was also drinking to try and forget just how unpleasant the majority of my day had been.
K was being pretty touchy the entire night. Moreso than I would’ve expected, but I wasn’t minding any of it. It’s started with gentle leaning against each other, and progressed to mutual shoulder rubbing. There might have been some sly and subtle hand holding unseen by mostly everyone. I didn’t even really notice. Dancing involving arm wrapping around waists to hands moving up and down the smalls of each others back.
From there it was a drunken move to the pool. She brought clean clothes for such an occasion and simply took the keys and phone out of her pocket as she dove in. I kinda paced and ran my hands through my hair. I was hesitant to get in the pool, and not because I was pretty drunk by this point. She shoved a typhoon of water at me as if that would get me into the water any easier.
“I can’t swim.”
She bobbed her head beneath the water and resurfaced quickly. “Really.”
I took my now extremely dirty and wet socks off and sat on the edge of the pool to dip my feet in. “Yeah. When I was younger my dad was one of those types who just threw me in a lake to hope I would catch on. Problem is that when he threw me, I wasn’t even remotely prepared for it. All I remember is having my eyes wide open as I watched myself sink to the bottom of the lake. I hit my head on a huge rock and I freaked out. From that point on I stopped giving a crap about learning how to swim.”
She looked at me almost sorrowfully. The kind of drunken “that’s the saddest story I ever heard” look.
“Do you want me to teach you?”
“No, not right now. Not tonight.”
She swam over and hugged my lower leg. “You know, the water here isn’t deep at all if you stay on this side of the pool.”
“Yeah, I know. I just don’t have a change of clothes. I didn’t know there was going to be…”
At that moment, she jerked on my leg and pulled me into the water. I quickly got my cell phone out of my pocket (which was miraculously saved despite the charger on the phone never quite working right after that). Under different circumstances, I probably would have been somewhat upset that she had taken that initiative, but the ear to ear smile on her face more than made up for it. The laughter of a few people who had been watching also helped to take the edge off. I couldn’t help but laugh, myself.
“Hold on to me.” She put my arms around her waist. “I’m just going to take you to the other side of the pool.”
“The deep end?!?” I said briefly freaking out.
“Calm down, I got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.” She paused as she started swimming to the other end. I held on tighter than I would have been holding her on dry land. “And if something goes wrong, I’m CPR certified.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled.
“Lean back against the edge of the pool and hold yourself up by your arms. I’ve got you.”
“So what exactly was the point of getting me all the way to this side of the pool?”
“Well, I kinda wanted to make out with you in the pool, but now that your in a spot where you can’t get away, I guess I could just have my way with you.”
We both laughed. She was trying to be smooth, but realized how ridiculous it all sounded. In the pool, on the far end of the deep, we had our first kiss. I was holding on for dear life with my arms until she wrapped her arms and legs around me.
“I’ve wanted to do something like this all week.” Said in unison.
Then I let go. We made out for a bit, occasionally bobbing up and down in the water. I had no clue what I was doing, but if I were about to die I was going to die happy. Her experience made up for my inability to stay afloat on my own. After a few moments we both agreed that this situation was incredibly awkward to pull off and we made our way out of the pool.
“So, now what am I going to do? I don’t exactly have any dry clothes on me.”
“Well, I could grab you something from (party guy’s name here despite being about a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than me) and we could go upstairs where it really wouldn’t matter what you were wearing.”
She went to go grab me some clothes and a towel as I stood by the edge of the pool, nodding and smiling at everyone who walked by. I didn’t know any of these people, but they almost all knew K. They didn’t know me by name, but by what I had just done with her in the pool. It was the first time I had ever really felt recognized and completely unknown to a crowd of people.
The drinking for the night stopped and the remainder of the night was a blur of making out in an upstairs bedroom. We were both mostly stripped down since I felt silly wearing the oversized Staind T-shirt. We kept the pants on, but the shirts were gone after about fifteen minutes. At some point someone started playing Weezer and we both stopped to sing along. It wasn’t even one of their better known songs. It led us to believe we had a lot more in common than we did.
After a while the action decreased and we ended up holding each other.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I’m scared what you might think of me… you know… when I’m at my worst.” She buried her head into my shoulder as I pulled her as close as possible.
“Can’t be worse than me. I might never even tell you anything is wrong.”
“You don’t have to be like that with me. Tell me anything you want. If there is ever anything bothering you or something hurtful or troubling, you tell me.”
I teared up a little bit, but I still remained quiet. Would it ruin the moment if I just unleashed a torrent of all the unpleasant things in my life? I stayed silent, holding and kissing her until it was time to sober up and bring her home. And by bring her home, I mean park at the end of her grandparents’ driveway and make out and talk for another two hours.
I watched her walk into the house barefoot, with shoes in hand to not wake anyone up. I watched as she turned the light on in her bedroom. I backed out of the driveway not only wondering if I should have told her what happened earlier that day. I wondered briefly what she meant by seeing her at her worst. But mostly, I felt totally and completely alive. More than I had ever felt before. A feeling impossible to distil into words. It definitely wasn’t a side effect of the alcohol. I’m thinking it must have been something else entirely. I just wish I remembered better what that mental feeling was now instead of just the sense memory of it all.
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