AA and Uno

A story I wrote earlier this year. This was created out of boredom but I'm kinda proud of it. It's been revised and changed some. The ending probably needs to be changed but this is it for now.

“Uh, hey. My name is Olivia.”

“Hi Olivia.”

I looked into the crowd of people. There couldn’t be many more than twenty. When Chloe had first proposed the idea to drive me to AA meetings, I automatically refused. I knew I was addicted, from Jack Daniel’s to Pinta Coladas, but Chloe didn’t understand. She’d never understand why I did what I did and continued to for four years. Still, I knew arguing was no use because, a week later, she was there at my doorstep saying, “Come on, the meeting is tonight.” Now she’s waiting in the parking lot with some novel waiting for me to come running out of this church so she can push me right back in. I expected a bunch of beer-gutted, Bible toting crazies, but that’s not exactly what I got. Sure, high-and-mighty Mandy and my-daddy’s-yacht-this-and-that Trisha in the back row looked irritating enough, but I had managed to ignore them. Who were they to act better than us? They were at AA. Alcoholics. No different from any one else in this room. I brushed my fingertips across the scar on my arm, a nervous habit.

I looked around at everyone. Thomas, the peppy group leader with hair so blonde and a smile so wide it looked unhealthy, nodded his head and motioned me on. I looked down at the podium, scratching my nails into the cheap wood. I felt the vibration under my fingernails. As sudden as a fire alarm no one else could hear, a headache rang inside my skull. It pounded at my thoughts like jackhammers. I just wanted to leave. I didn’t need this. How was this going to help me? Telling total strangers about my problems couldn’t solve anything. Where was a shot of Crown when a girl needed one?

“Well,” Thomas said, standing up and walking to the spot beside me. He tried to put a “reassuring” hand on my shoulder, but I shifted away from him. He awkwardly put his hands together and said, cheery as ever, “I think our friend Olivia needs some assistance. We all know how that feels, this being her first time.” At that statement, the group began to nod their heads and mumble to each other. “Maybe,” Thomas said, causing the room to silence, “we could ask Olivia here some questions?”

I wasn’t insulted by everyone’s hesitation once Thomas’ idea was posed. I wouldn’t have been eager to ask about someone’s personal business, either. Not even Thomas looked confident in his idea. I rubbed my temples, trying to sooth my pounding head, trying to avoid eye contact, trying to think of a way I could slip out of here and slip into the serenity of a cool, frosty glass of something I could regret later. I was about to apologize for my cause of discomfort in the crowd when someone finally spoke up.

“Hi, Olivia,” said a slightly overweight man with a scruffy looking beard and flushed red cheeks. Thomas grinned at him and mouthed what looked like, “Thanks,” in his direction. “My name is Gregory.”

“Hello, Gregory,” I replied, finally looking into his eyes. He didn’t seem nervous at all. Almost comfortable. He’d most likely been to these meetings many times before.

“I know I’m starting out very bluntly,” he said, grinning with embarrassment, “but what made you begin drinking?” I almost wanted to smile. Sure, I didn’t like the intruding question, but he seemed so kind about it I couldn’t help but not mind. I looked around at everyone else and the comfortableness I had been able to temporarily grasp was gone. I traced my scar with my finger again.

I sighed, knowing there was no way to get out of this situation. I stood up straight, trying to appear confident when really I wanted to slouch and hide in the back of the room, but it was too late.

“I was seventeen,” I said, felting myself drift away into my memories. I couldn’t help it. Every time I thought of this in my head, it was almost as if I was there. I could see the strobe lights flashing around, feel the sweat on my skin as I danced around, only getting more sweatier as I bumped into everyone else. The bass pounded inside of me as I kicked off my shoes and jumped up and down. “It was my first high school party. I usually tried to ignore them because I didn’t want to get caught up in the trouble I could get in, but the only thing I could think of then was ‘why didn’t I do this earlier?’ My parents didn’t get mad when I told them I wanted to go. They knew I never got in trouble, I always had good grades, and I never did anything to make them not proud of me. I wanted to keep that pride they had in me but I also wanted to have fun. So, when I was invited, my RSVP was definitely a yes.

I was exhausted from all the dancing around, so I grabbed my shoes and decided to go find something to drink. I had been able to successfully avoid mingling since I had arrived and hoped to keep it that way. I was the shy type and didn’t enjoy the spotlight. The kitchen wasn’t too difficult to find and there were many familiar faces. A cheerleader name Valerie Cook was making out with a boy from the baseball team. I don’t remember his name, though. A boy from the school newspaper was chatting with a girl I knew from my Spanish class.

I reached into a cooler and pulled out, to my surprise, a frosty Pepsi. I peered into the cooler to see the Pepsi in my hand was the only nonalcoholic drink that was in the cooler. I shrugged my shoulders, knowing the danger that alcohol could pose, and opened the Pepsi. I can remember how it tasted, the tartness of the soda sliding down my throat. I had never had a Pepsi quite like it.”

The crowd seemed confused at that statement, but I didn’t feel like I needed to explain. That was the last soda I had before my first sip of a new life.

“As I sipped on my drink, out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone walk towards the cooler. I stepped aside, not wanting him to notice me. It was too late, though, because, as soon as he pulled another Pepsi from the cooler, he was grinning at me.

‘Hey,’ he said, popping open his drink. ‘Great party, huh?’

‘Yeah,’ I replied, looking at my sneakers.

‘I’m Calvin Brooker. Senior, future chef, and one heck of an air guitar player if I do say so myself.’ I grinned and looked up at him. His eyes were the color of the grass during spring and his hair was the color of gold. He seemed to be about five inches taller than me and his body was slightly tanned. He was waiting for my introduction, so I grinned and said,

‘Olivia Burch. Junior, hopefully a future artist, and can play one heck of a game of Uno.’

He laughed and nodded his head. ‘You don’t say?’ I couldn’t help but smile. He leaned against the kitchen table and I sat in a chair as we just chatted. I had never felt so comfortable around anyone before. He told me about his favorite recipes, his little brother that his family had adopted from India, and his favorite TV shows. I told him about my passion for drawing, my favorite Italian dishes, and how I hoped to be an artist one day. He nodded and clung on to every word I spoke, as did I to him. We continued to chat until something happened. It was a hazy memory but I know it happened. We made our way upstairs for more privacy. He searched through the homeowner’s things until he found a pencil and some black paper. He asked me to draw a picture of him, so I did. I stroked the graphite against the paper and drew as I never had before, every detail from the shape of his chin to the length of his eyelashes. I became so caught up in drawing that I almost didn’t notice when he kissed me.”

The group was wide eyed in awe, their eyes scanning me over, waiting for what I was going to say next. Even Thomas seemed to be on the edge of his seat. They were all waiting. Waiting for me.

“And we did it. Right then. I never had before, and I don’t know what else to say about it. I’ll save you the clumsy details, but,” I grinned, “I’m not ashamed of it.” Some of the crowd grinned back at me.

“After that, we just laid there. In some strangers bed, we just stared at the ceiling. We didn’t say anything, but we didn’t need to. Sure, it was pretty awkward, but we already knew that we loved each other. It wasn’t just some silly teen crush, It was much more than that.  Eventually, though, and as silly as it sounds, we found a pack of Uno cards. So, we played. We played eleven games of Uno that night. I won eight of them. At about two in the morning, he drove me home. My ride had left without telling me. I didn’t mind it, though. I wanted to spend every waking moment I could with him. I got home safely, said goodnight, and came home to a sleeping mom and dad. That morning they only asked if I had had fun at the party, and I obviously said yes. Calvin and I hung out a lot after that, and my parents fell in love with him. They invited him over for dinner often and afterwards we’d always play Uno. It was perfect, until his senior graduation.

He was driving me to his house for the graduation party where everyone was already waiting for us.” My voice started to crack. “The driver of an eighteen wheeler had a heart attack, lost control, and hit us.” My eyes were watering at this point. “I survived,” I said, looking down at the scar on my arm that I had gained that night.

I looked out at the crowd. Their eyes were watering, too. They looked so sympathetic. They looked heartbroken. It made me wish that they could’ve met Calvin. That Calvin could be here to cheer us all up.

“Calvin has been in a coma for four years, now. I’ve been drinking ever since I got out of the hospital after the accident. I needed to forget, but I couldn’t. You can’t just forget someone like that. So, that’s why I drink.”

The room was silent. I looked down at my watch through tears and saw it was eight o’ clock. The meeting was over. So, I told them bye and walked off the stage. No one else moved but I didn’t mind. I hopped in car Chloe’s car and dried my eyes.

“You told them about Calvin, didn’t you?”

“Your brother is an amazing person.”

Chloe nodded her head and drove off. Her phone rang down the road, so she pulled over the car to answer it. She never calls, texts, eats, or does anything to distract her while she drives, and I didn’t blame her. She stood outside the car and I watched her. In the darkness, I could see her eyes get teary and her head nod as she listened. She hung up and hesitated before going back to the car. As she buckled up, I turned to her.

“Is everything ok?” I asked. She tried to hold back a smile, which only confused me.

“Yes,” she said. “It’s more than ok.” I didn’t respond, trying to understand what she meant. It was only more perplexing when she drove me to her house, not mine. I didn’t ask why, only got out of the car with her. We walked up to the door and she handed me the key.

“Open it,” she said.

As I opened the door, I was greeted with two arms around my torso and a familiar voice whispering in my ear.

“Wanna play a game of Uno?”

Author's Note

I'm sure the ending needs to be changed. I'm unsure.

Reviews

[Persona]

Huh? Is the person at the end the guy who came out of the coma? That's a bit confusing. I don't often read about alcoholics but really it did come across as more of a teen situated story and the shifting of setting was confusing. I like this because overall spelling and grammar is good but things like "strangers" when you mean "a stranger's bed" and "more sweatier" when it should just be "sweat" are a little off-putting. She's around 21 but she distinctly sounds like a teenager. Don't worry, I do like it - for example the descriptions such as the scratching the wood with her nails. Showing like that is awesome and you should do that more! I think emotions aren't your thing - overall setting is your strong point. I do like the layout and the general places - the meeting, the high school flashback where she tells why she became an alcoholic - but the transition is confusing at times. Maybe try italics when she goes into the past or be much clearer like try a fade. I.e. "the walls in the building faded, replaced by the insides of the high school party, kingsdon street. Laya's house..." be very factual there, make it her thoughts - not all of that bit her retelling it. The characters sometimes have awkward speech and it comes across unnatural ie. 'As I sipped on my drink, out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone walk towards the cooler. I stepped aside, not wanting him to notice me.' Why not do this as her thoughts? Make simple clear statements the ones she says out loud.

[Calibaster]

that was sweet. I had to stop and reread the ending to savor it.