college.

A Story by Brooke_Alyse

"I'm not depressed anymore!" She screamed over the loud music, in a matter of seconds, she had gone from the fun party girl, to the 'I've had too much to drink' girl. Soon enough she became that pouty little thirteen year old girl, I never knew her as, and tears started to well up in her eyes as I said 'no' to her continuous and relentless begging for another beer.

"I'M NOT SHITFACED" she had sat down now. Knowing that I would be the sober b***h, seeing as how it was only a matter of a month before, when I was the emergency call and the best friend in the emergency room, trying to make light of a bad situation.

I told her, one more than we leave, but she was having too much fun. I told her if she didn't drink, we stayed as late as she'd liked. She knew I was right, I could tell by the way she debated with herself inside her head. She couldn't decide whether or not to stand there and take being treated like a child so diligently and with respect. Or whether to hate me for spoiling her fun and just do whatever she pleased. Someone intervened, someone took her attention away from my eyes glared through her empty head. And this is when she felt courageous.

"If it means I can drink this beer, I'll walk home." I didn't even hear her say it, it was more of this thought leaking from her lips without any noise. And I had just so happened to catch the formation of this ill mannered bullshit on her lips. You can only be betrayed by your friends so many times. And with her, it had become too frequent. So, I stepped back and watched her, as she stared at me, cracked open the dull Keystone beer, and started to chug it, all the while, still maintaining eye contact.

This is when I told her, she was making a mistake, that she was acting the same way she had before. And that if she wanted to f**k up her pointless life than, she should. Except for, I didn't say half of that. I tapped our mutual friends shoulder and we left. She came running up the stairs after us, she needed her cigarettes. I hated being the sober friend.

I only looked at her, and then her warm, moist hand grabbed my cheeks. She was in charge now, with the drunken motherly touch, "LOOK AT ME. " she screamed. The music was downstairs and I could easily hear her, but the ringing in my ears made it hard to concentrate, as I pulled away from her grasp.

"I'M GOING TO BE 18, 19 SOON. YOU HAVE TO TRUST ME. IF YOU LOVED ME. YOU'D TRUST ME. YOU'D LET ME DO THIS." That's all she had to say. And she did.

She kissed me on the cheek.
And I hated her.
I didn't get stopped at but one red light on the way home.