9

   Let me take a couple steps back: Katie wasn't the only one who called me during those three weeks. Luke did as well. He called almost as much as Katie did.

   That night, after I got back from Katie's, I was still feeling pretty shell-shocked. I mean, I had gotten some pretty rough news, I wasn't really taking it the best. I just couldn't comprehend the fact that my father had taken Katie's mother from her. Everything in me was so evil. All I had caused was pain, and I hated myself for it.

   I needed something to take my mind of things. I needed to go out and do something. I was feeling so restless. I called Luke back. I partly did it because I owed him that much, but to be honest, I did it for more selfish reasons. I mostly did it just because I wanted something to do.

   "Hello?" He said, answering on the third ring.

   "Hey Luke, it's Tyler." I said slowly.

   "Thank God. I was worried about you, dude." He said. He sounded genuine.

   "I'm doing okay now. Thanks." I said.

   "I'm glad you called me back." He said.

   "Yeah. I'm sorry it took so long, Luke." I apologized.

   "Don't worry about it. You're fine." He assured me. "So, what's up?" He asked.

   "I need something new. I need something different. I need something to take my mind off of everything in my life right now." I confessed. There was a long pause on the other line. Then finally:

   "I can help with that." He said.

   "Really?" I asked. I didn't know whether or not I should feel excited. Getting my hopes up had proved to lead to let-down pretty consistently.

   "Yeah. There's a big party tonight at the lake. I wasn't planning on going. But I can make an exception if you want to go." He told me. I had never been to an actual party. It was definitely new. "Do you want me to invite, Katie?" He asked. I thought for a moment.

   "No. Let's just keep it us two, tonight." I finally decided. I figured it would be better if she wasn't there. Then I wouldn't be reminded of the fact that my father had ruined her life.

   "Okay." He said. "I'll be at your house around eleven tonight. You'll probably have to sneak out."

   This was new as well. I had never snuck out.

   "That shouldn't be a problem." I said.

   "Cool. I'll see you then." He said, and the line went dead.

   I waited anxiously for Luke to get there. My grandparents were asleep by ten. I watched the street below my window for a good thirty minutes before Luke pulled up right around eleven. My heart raced. I crept downstairs. I cringed at every creak of the stairs. It was dark. I guided myself with the handrails. I almost fell once, but I caught myself. I made my way to the door, and opened it slowly. It creaked some, but not terribly. I slipped out the front door.

   "Ready to go?" Luke asked as I hopped into the passenger side of his truck.

   "Definitely." I assured him.

   "Have you been to many parties?" He asked.

   "A few back home." I lied.

   "Okay, good. 'Cause these get crazy, I just want to make sure that you won't lose your head in the midst of everything." He said warmly.

   "I can handle it." I promised him.

   We drove for about fifteen minutes. It was a pretty straight shot to the lake. Then, out of nowhere, Luke whipped his truck off the road. We continued on a very poorly lit dirt path covered my trees overhead. As we kept driving, I saw smoke floating above us. I began to see the light of fires and flood lights at the end of the dirt road. Music began to grow louder. I began to see the end of the dirt road, and the beginning of the river bank. Cars were lined all up and down it. Then, all it once, we came out of the road and onto the bank. The lights flashed. There were hundreds of kids. People were shouting and yelling. The music was blaring. There were at least ten bonfires all down the bank. Kids were playing volleyball and kickball. Some were driving four-wheelers. Others were driving boats and tubing on the lake. Still more were swimming in the shallow parts. To my left was on old pier, and people were diving off every side of it, laughing and having fun. I had never seen anything like it. It was like this hidden world that I had crashed into. Honestly, I felt like I was in redneck Narnia. And I loved it. I kicked off my shoes, and made my way onto the bank. I began to smile. For the first time in weeks, I wasn't thinking. A guy about my age stumbled up to Luke and I. He had a mason jar in his hand.

   "Luke! Wassup, dawg!" He shouted. He had obviously had had a little to drink.

   "Trevor, how's it goin'?" Luke asked, laughing.

   "Who's yur friend?" He asked. Then he belched.

   "This is Tyler." Luke said simply.

   "How's it goin'" I asked.

   "Tyler, my man." He said stumbling. He thrust the jar in my hand. "Let's party, dude!" He shouted.

   I didn't think about it. I just drank it, slow at first. It burned. It burned real bad. But I liked it. I liked the way it heated my throat and tickled on the way down. It made my stomach feel warm.

   "Atta boy!" Trevor shouted.

   And that's the last time I was sane that night. I felt so warm and so relaxed. And I lost it. I don't remember much about that night. I got absolutely hammered. I was shooting whiskey left and right with people I didn't even know. For the first time in a long time, I didn't hurt. I was diving off the peer, I was swimming in the lake, I was dancing, I was singing. I was free of pain for the night. I threw up in the lake. Three times. I didn't care. The pain was gone and replaced by warmth. I was having a blast. I was loving life. I passed out, face down in the sand, sometime around one in the morning.

   I woke up with the sun glaring down on me. It had to be at least ten in the morning. There were other kids still passed out on the bank. My back was sunburnt. I had no idea where my shirt was. I wondered what had happened to Luke. My head pounded. The light hurt so badly. I stood up, then threw up at my feet. Everything in me hurt. I couldn't remember if it was worth it. I tried to stand up again, but I just fell to the ground.

   Then I cried.

   I cried because I was scared. I was in pain. I was so alone. I cried because everything inside me and outside me was hurting so badly. I cried because I realized that I was still in the same amount of pain as I was before I got wasted. I cried because this didn't fix anything. It made it worse. I was just in so much pain. I cried all over myself. I cried because Luke wasn't there. I cried because his car wasn't there. I cried because he had brought me here and left without me. I cried because I was alone.

   I looked down at my phone, and saw that I had eight missed calls from my grandparents. That's when I realized that, well, for lack of a better term, I was screwed. I began attempting to run through situations in my head in which I got off free. There were none. Even if there were a way for me to think my way out of this, I was way too hung over to rationalize it. So I did the only thing I could think to do. I called them.

   "Tyler?" My grandfather asked as he picked up the phone on the very first ring.

   "Papaw, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I said. I was bawling, crying on the bank.

   "Tyler, where have you been? What's going on?" He asked rather urgently.

   "I went to a party, Papaw, I need you to pick me up. I'm sorry Papaw. I'm sorry. I needed something to take my mind off things." I confessed. There was a pause.

   "Tyler, you know that I'm going to be upset. You know that there will be consequences. But right now, I just need you home safe. I need to be there for you while you're hurting. Where are you, Buddy?" He asked me.

   "I don't know. There was a back road. I'm on the lake somewhere." I said. There was another pause.

   "I know where you are." He said.

   "How?" I asked, confused.

   "Tyler, kids have been throwing parties on that bank since I was a kid. I'll be there soon, Buddy." He told me.

   He got there in about twenty minutes. He found me sitting there all alone. He found me sunburnt, tired, shirtless, hung over, and crying. I was pathetic. He grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me to my feet. He put his arm around me and guided me to the car. He didn't say anything. He was just there. He was there like I needed him to be. He didn't say a word the whole way home. He just kept his arm around me while I cried. 

   "Go get in the shower, buddy." He said as we pulled into the driveway.

   "Okay." I relented.

   Remember how I wasn't able to take long showers? This time, I stayed in for a long time anyway. I used up the hot water and then let the cold water rush over me. I still felt incredibly sick. I was miserable that I didn't hardly notice the cold water. I just sat in the floor of the shower. I loved showering when I was sad, because it was hard to tell the difference between my tears and the water of the shower. It was nice. I could cry and let it all out without really realizing that I was doing so. It made things easier for me.

   When I got out of the shower and had finished drying off, my grandparents were waiting for me. I walked into my bedroom and there they were.

   "Sit down on the bed with us, honey." My grandmother said. So I did.

   "Look, Tyler. This is one of the most important lessons that you'll learn so listen closely, okay?" He said.

   "Okay." I said.

   "You are in a lot of pain right now, buddy. A whole lot. And I'm so sorry for that. But as you probably learned, there is nothing that you put into your body that's going to make it easier. It may feel easier for the night, but you'll have to come out of it in the morning." He explained. "We're not going to punish you. Your hangover is punishment enough. We just need to learn from this." He said.

   "I will." I promised.

   "I was a kid once." My grandfather said. "I get the appeal. It's fun. I did it when I was your age. It was so nice to let go for one night. But you always have to come back down to earth afterwards, and the fall back down is painful."

   "It really is." I said.

   My grandmother and grandfather hugged me. I hugged them back. I still felt a little bit of a wall between my grandfather and I, but it was beginning to dissolve a little bit. I mean, something like that doesn't just go away, but I was feeling so much love from him. He had been nothing but a blessing in my life while I had known him. But I couldn't just forget that he had gunned my father down.