Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

I sat up groggily with my head pounding like a typhoon. Darkness registered. I dimly remember seeing multiple Fay's and then passing out in the car. Wenn was behind the wheel saying something about Fay and something cocky I bet. Speaking about Wenn, I shot straight up and looked around. Big mistake, my brain hammered around in my head like stones to a stick cage. 

"Damn." I muttered bitterly. 

Slowly, I turned around again and looked out the window. Tree's covered me in sheer darkness. The everyday nighttime sounds echoed around me in it's usual eeriness that nighttime brings. I sighed exhaustively. Even that made my head throb harder. I've have never been this hammered before. In fact, this is only the second time I've been drunk, ever. However unfortunately I don't remember the first time because I was knocked out after taking just a couple of sips so I'm not really counting that one. 

I wonder where Wenn crawled off too. 

Wait no, wrong question. 

Where the hell am I? I definitely don't recognize this place. I don't even see the road. I'm parked on grass. Are we back in Oregon?

I'm answered by more thumping from my head. I should probably stop thinking. It's making the pain worse. Instead I groan and open the door instead. I stepped out into the fresh air and took a deep, almost soulful long breath.

There's definitely no highway, or sign of civilization in fact. It's almost like Wenn crash drives into the forest and abandoned me here. Speaking of crash, I go around to check my car for any dents or scratches. 

I swore that I'd kill the guy if I found anything wrong with my car, and you better believe that the promise is still on the table. Even more now, for thinking he could run away and leave me in the middle of the woods in who knows where. 

Unfortunately for him, I didn't find anything that caught my immediate attention, but I'm still killing him none the less. 

"Keys" I reminded myself inwardly. 

I race around to the drivers side of the car and leaned over the ignition. 

Nothing. 

"D****t Wenn!" I grumbled. "So you really did leave me stranded here, didn't you?" 

I could almost guess what he'd say. 

"Dude, Dommy, take a joke, I just thought you might want to camp out first and relax before the party!" 

That stupid party. The guy just wouldn't shut up about it. 

I sat in the drivers seat and just sat there looking at nothing but what's in front of me, tree's. My head continues to throb. 

"Thump... thump... thump..."

Then a new beat kicks in.

"dun, dun... dun, dun, dun... dun, dun."

Then cymbals.

"Clash, clash, clash." 

Does hangovers always sound like skrillex dub step? Maybe hallucinations?

No, no, those extra sounds aren't coming from my head. 

"Party." I tell myself as realization dawned.

I roll my eyes. 

"We're at that damn party!" 

I got out of the car fast, not even minding my headache. 

Following the sounds of skrillex, I trekked through the forest blindly while getting closer to the source. Apparently the party was located, on a very steep hill which I dangerously climbed, inside a shabby looking cabin. People, who looked to be high school students or at most college students, surrounded the lawn in mass heaps. Figures because this random cabin in the woods looked way to small to hold some huge party, in the middle of nowhere.

Cabin in the woods? How ironic, I thought.

My hangover couldn't possibly tolerate the loud beating of the music coming from the cabin, but I managed to make through the crowd of already drunk youngsters and barely legal young adults, and into the cabin itself. 

By the look of things, I thought I would take ages to find Wenn in this crowd. But that wasn't the case. It wasn't the case at all because the first thing I saw as soon as stepped through that door, was his mouse brown hair bobbing up and down in beat with the music, on a ping pong table, soaking wet, and drunk as Bieber on his day view.

"As long as we're taking turns being drunk today, huh Wenn?" I mutter to myself. "Dumb a*s."

Just as I start to make my way up to him, Wenn's drunken self caught sight of me and he starts waving his arms hugely. 

"Dooommmyyy! My boy, what's up?" 

"Nothing, now will you please get down from there?" 

He gives me a cheeky grin, at the same time swaying dangerously to his left.

"Don wury." he slurs. "Imma not that drunks. Unlike you, I know how to hold my liquors." 

"I bet you do." I agree. "Now get down."

He does as told. 

"Hey Domsss, ya know how many beersss it took you ta get drunk, yesterdays?" 

"No." I muttered while dragging him and I away from the noise. 

"Three!" he stated, holding up two fingers. 

I laughed. 

"I'm a lightweight. How much did you drink?" just making idle conversation. 

"Ten... fifteen bottles of Vodka!" he exclaimed. 

I watched as he struggled to put up that many fingers. 

"No way am I making you drive my car again." I commented mostly to myself. "Come on let's go home." 

"Why? We jussss' got here." 

"And I'm sure you had a blast." 

Wenn grinned. 

"I did." 

We were outside now and I was contemplating whether I should just roll Wenn down the hill or carry him. Both options seemed risky. I went with the safer option. 

"Stay where I can see you. The last thing I need is you tumbling down the hill like Jack and Jill and breaking something." 

At the mention of Jack and Jill, Wenn he started singing the nursery rhyme.

"Jack n' Jillssss' went upsss' the hillsss' to catch a pail of wata--" 

I groan. 

"Jack fellsss' down and broke hisss'..." 

Wenn stopped in the middle of our trek down the hill and looked like he was about to topple over. He looked thoughtful, probably trying to remember the rest of the words. 

"It's crown, Wenn." I tell him annoyingly. 

"No, Jack fell and broke hissss'... clown!" 

Wenn chuckled at his own drunken joke. 

"Okay Wendall, just move."

I grab his arm and force him to keep walking down. 

At the car, Wenn argues with me on where he should sit. 

"I wantsss' shotgun!"  he blubbered. 

"And I want peace and quiet. No shotgun." 

"Shotguuuun'!"  he whined. 

"Quit acting like a child, and get in the backseat." 

I don't wait for him to comply before shoving him into the seat myself and locking the door. He bangs on my glass. 

"I swear Wenn, If you break that window, you won't just be drunk when this night is over." 

He childishly sticks his tongue out at me. 

I roll my eyes. 

It was only a 30 minute drive back to my place, and unlike me, Wenn didn't pass out once. He just sat there mumbling to himself while swaying left and right, falling over numerous times. 

"I thinksss' I feel..." he hiccuped. "Sick."

We've just pulled into my drive when Wenn suddenly turned a shade of grey. That was saying something because, the guy was tan. 

"You need a toilet." I tell him, opening the door. 

Wenn makes a gagging sound. 

"And fast." 

It wasn't long before I had Wenn through my door, down the hall and into my neatly cleaned bathroom. I leaned him over the toilet seat, ready for whatever flies out of him. 

At first Wenn just sat there, laughing at himself and complaining that he was about to hurl when really he wasn't. Just as my patience wore out, Wenn convulsed, and the vodka's he claimed to have drank went spiraling down into my toilet. 

"Great." I muttered. My bathroom is all dirty again. 

The guy puked for another 30 minutes and I was somewhat glad that I hadn't gotten as drunk as to have had that happen to me. 

After I was sure he was done, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over to my living room couch. Any decent person would have let the drunken guy sleep on there bed for the night, but any smart person would have kept an alcohol slash puke-i-fied,  reaking, dumb a*s sleep on the floor or at most my living room couch. 

"Night dumb a*s." I tell him, snugging him in real tight. 

His eyes drifted shut. 

"Yousss' too, assholesss'."