Thanksgiving

 

Chapter Thirteen

Thanksgiving was a bit of a mess this year. I set the table for three places before finding out Brandon wanted the TV trays set up so we could watch football, so I put the dishes away and pulled out paper plates, figuring no one would want to do many dishes.

Just as I finished putting things in the living room, I heard a clatter in the kitchen where Alex was reheating dinner and fixing up his mom’s gravy recipe.

“F**k!” someone groaned.

Curious, I walked into the kitchen and snorted, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing even more. Alex gazed at me, bewildered, his shirt and jeans splattered with white gravy while a blue ladle rocked back and forth slowly on the linoleum floor. “Redecorating?” I asked cheekily, my eyes lingering on a few drops of gravy on the counter and the puddle on the floor.

Alex grinned. “Something like that,” he said, grabbing a rag and cleaning up. “At least I only dropped the ladle.” I shook my head, smirking.

“Have fun cleaning up then, Smurf,” I said, disappearing around the corner before he could protest the nickname. The front door opened and Brandon walked in with a roll of Bounty. “Just in time,” I snickered.

Brandon frowned in confusion, then realized what must have happened and walked into the kitchen and laughed. “Good one, Smurf!”

“At least it’s done! I’m starving; let’s eat!” I heard Alex say. I scooped up the plates and handed them to the guys, making my own plate and serving myself a generous helping of stuffing. I snagged a Dr. Pepper out of the fridge and put my stuff down, going back to grab beers for the other two.

Brandon and Alex joined me a minute later, turning on the TV and cracking open their beers. I reached for my Dr. Pepper and just as I was about to open it, Brandon said, “Aiden, I got some Smirnoff Ice in the fridge if you want to try that. One condition�"you’re staying home tonight. I don’t care who calls.”

Alcohol? That wasn’t beer, or just a splash of vodka? “Sweet, thanks!” I said, getting up to put my can back in the fridge and pulling out a Smirnoff instead. I twisted the cap off using my shirt and took a tentative sip. “This is pretty good!” I said to myself, closing the fridge door and reclaiming my spot on the couch just as the pregame show ended.

“Every time the Broncos score, we take a drink,” Brandon said resolutely, staring intently at the screen as the two teams jogged out onto the field amidst crazy screams. “Go Cowboys!”

Alex laughed and I rolled my eyes and dug into my plate, feeling starved�"I routinely didn’t eat on Thanksgiving until dinner, so I was starving! Alex managed to inhale his food faster than I did, which I couldn’t help but almost disbelieve�"I went the whole day with nothing but water!

Brandon happened to look over while I was gawking at Alex’s empty plate and snorted. “Holy s**t, Alex! Did you go the whole day without eating, too?”

Alex froze mid-chew momentarily, a bemused expression on his face. He shook his head, swallowing the bite of turkey in his mouth. “I can’t do that; I’ll lose twenty pounds,” he said jokingly, getting up to serve himself more food. Brandon rolled his eyes good-naturedly and turned his attention back to the game as I got up as well, grabbing a couple of beers and pulling out the case of smirnoff, dumping them in a nearby cooler and dragging it over near Brandon’s end of the couch so no one would have to get up over and over. I went back and filled my plate with more food, shoveling stuffing into my mouth on the way back to the couch.

I didn’t pay very much attention to the game, focusing more on eating slowly enough to keep my stomach from exploding. Brandon and Alex jumped to their feet, screaming at the TV and groaning in defeat, picking up their beers.

“Drink, Aiden,” Brandon said glumly, so I took a long drink from my Smirnoff and set it back down.

Alex laughed. “Four more,” he told me. “A touchdown is five points.” I felt my eyes bug out, and I downed the rest of my bottle and motioned to Brandon for another one.

I don’t know where in the game I stopped drinking. The Smirnoffs were so sweet that after three, I could feel the sugar practically ripping the back of my throat to shreds, so I got myself a glass of water and moved over to the loveseat, watching the two men scream at the TV and drink.

I grimaced at the odd combined taste of alcohol and water, but forced myself to drink it anyway, snickering ocassionally at the guys. They both cheered and stood at the same time, nearly knocking over their trays still holding bits of food and gravy, high-fiving each other and generally making fools of themselves. I chuckled and threw away the paper plates  before going to my room and flicking on the computer, intending to spend the next few hours surfing the Internet until I was tired enough to go to bed.

I checked my Facebook and saw I had a few comments from Jess and Matt, so I replied to those quickly and checked my e-mail, finding nothing but a full spam folder. I sighed, bored, and strode back into the living room and tried to watch some more of the game before giving it up as a bad job and going straight to bed. I was tired anyway�"all that tryptophan was certainly making me sleepy. I guzzled a glass of water, just in case, and flopped down facefirst onto my bed, crawling under the covers and falling straight to sleep.

I spent Friday in and out of bed, since Jess and Matt were out of town visiting family and Sam didn’t answer my texts. Brandon and Alex woke up around one with hangovers, lumbering around the main part of the house clutching glasses of water and groaning about how rubbery their stomachs felt.

I had a nice lunch and dinner of leftovers, though, although thanks to my pigging out on stuffing last night there wasn’t much left. I padded into the bathroom to shower around nine that night, stifling a laugh as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My shaggy hair looked even worse thanks to my reluctance to even brush it that day, so I had pieces of it sticking up at odd angles all over my head. I showered quickly and carded my fingers through my hair as I washed out the shampoo, toweling off quickly and running a brush through my hair. I scrutinized my hair in the mirror, frowning slightly as I wondered whether or not I should trim it. I shrugged slightly and figured someone would say something when I needed it, and went to bed.

Irony of all ironies, I couldn’t sleep. There was nothing to do… and I couldn’t sleep. Sighing explosively, I went back to my computer and signed on to my messengers, hoping against hope someone was on.

                Aiden! How’s it goin, man?

Andrew was on! I typed back a noncommital response, which he brushed aside, and told him more about Sam instead.

An hour later, after showing him her Facebook and describing her, Andrew was ready to move to Meadow Grove.

                That Jess chick is hot too. Sam is urs, I get Jess�"lol!

I chuckled. She’s pretty, I conceded. She has a guy, tho… he’s an a*s.

                I could be the knight in shining armor!

Rofl yeah right… cuz ur being in ft worth isn’t a prob!

I leaned back in my chair, tipping it on two legs precariously. I didn’t know why, but I really didn’t like the idea of Andrew with Jess. I chalked it up to the cold way he dropped his ex Nicole and changed the subject as best as I could to his holidays, which didn’t seem to be any more interesting than mine.

After a few games of online checkers, I said goodnight to Andrew and, yawning, crawled under the covers and fell asleep.