Marin/Lapse/ 1

Alejandro Marin Morales

Professor Orsini

Fiction Assignment 3: Theme

10 November, 2020

Lapse

I hadn’t had a drink in nearly ten years, but the occasion seemed right and I was already

on my third cocktail. Not my fault, though. It was hard to stomach the sight of a select few faces

around me. It was Liberty High’s Reunion and my buddy/housemate Eric decided to throw a

“pre-game party.”

“-No, that’s the beauty of the F-150, it-” that’s Jimmy Benicio. I sat next to him once in

chemistry but he really only talked to me because we had to do a group project together. I

wonder if he still thinks about our time exploring atomic structure together. As my lips purse

over my glass, my entire being comes to a halt in function when I meet eyes with Darcie

Jameson.

Eric abruptly shouts, “Okay, everyone. Y’all drunk enough to deal with the past yet?” A

resounding “Hell yeah!” filled the air.

“Hell yeah.” I said, praying that I wasn’t lying to myself.

“Well then let’s get this thing goin’. Y’all know your groups. If not, come to me.” Eric

explained, very teacher-like. In that same vein, I awkwardly make my way past people I don’t

even want to figure out if I recognize, just so I can talk to the big tuna of the room.

“Hey buddy. You’re with me, Petey, Darcie, and Harmony.” he insisted. This was a

mistake. The buzz that began with the brandy is now a dizzying discomfort. Eric can probably

sense this as he catches me in place before I could start falling over.

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“ It’s all good, buddy. We’re gonna get some more brandy in you, maybe grab a snack,

too. Then, we’re gonna go have a great time. Trust me.” it was hard not to take Eric’s word

seriously. He had a way about him where you could tell that just because he’s nice to everyone, it

never feels forced. If Eric likes you, I can almost guarantee you’ll end up liking him, as well. He

guides me to the kitchen where in the blink of an eye I’m handed some drink called “Sidecar”

and a couple of mini-sandwiches. Before I knew it I was inside the car. I hastily down my

sandwiches, followed by the drink, as I notice that Darcie is making her way to the car.

“Could you scooch over a bit more, hon?” she was talking to me. I normally would’ve

frozen up but the brandy had turned me into a man of action. Pete and I move over as she sits

hip-to-hip next to me in the now packed car. I’m frankly amazed I recognized her so easily. I

think it was the face. You can always notice little things about someone's face that just makes

you go, “aha! You’re ____.” She used to have her hair dyed all the time but seeing her now with

a natural blonde color, it reminded me that I’m not in Kansas anymore. Say Something I thought.

But what?

“Anyone got a swig? I don’t think I pre-gamed hard enough.” my outburst elicited no

reaction. Eric turned to me from the driver's seat and was about to change the topic before,

“Hang on, one second.” said Darcie. She lifts her ruby-red dress up to her thigh and reveals a

flask. It has a little skull engraved in it. For a second it felt like her voice was coming out of it.

“A swig, as you put it.” Darcie jokes as she hands me the very vintage looking flask.

“You’re doin’ the lord's work. Obliged.” I had taken on a southern drawl of sorts. Not by

choice but surely by intoxication. I had to ride it out now.

“Say, you look familiar.” I semi-jokingly regard. I knew who she was but I didn’t want

her to know that. This was a shot at redemption as far as I’m concerned. Through the mystical
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abilities of alcohol, I would get this woman to notice me as something other than a face she may

have passed by in the halls, 10 years ago.

“I was just about to tell you the same. Name’s Darcie, Jameson.” she replied with a

kindly voice. “What about you, cowboy?”

“Chris, Reilly.” I said. That’s as much truth as I felt comfortable sharing with her.

Anything else and the cracks would start to show. The rest of the car ride went by fairly quickly.

Having broken the ice with Darcie was fifty steps ahead of where I thought I would get tonight.

As we exit the car and make our way inside, I realize my ticket and my phone is missing. I

must’ve changed like thirty times but I had a shot of tequila before people started showing up

and I felt inspired towards a new outfit. Now one of the other contenders withheld my entry to a

nostalgic hell. I frankly didn’t know what to feel.

You didn’t even want to go in the first place, it's fine! I thought. No high school crush is

worth this much pursuit. I must’ve been debating with myself for a good twenty minutes before

Darcie decided to come outside.

“Hey, cowboy!” She shouted as she walked towards me. “You know, parties are usually

more fun inside the place.” I was embarrassed but at this point the lying felt useless.

“I forgot my ticket, to be honest. Not sure how- well, I know how but-”

“Hey, man. Shit happens” Darcie states as she pulls out a cigarette from somewhere

hidden in her hair. She offers me a puff and I instinctively take it. As I try to hold back a

bellowing cough, she continues to have a conversation with me.

“I just needed fresh air, if I’m being honest. The pre-game was fun and all but actually

being here feels bizarre. Like I’m being forced to relive happy memories that weren’t that happy

to begin with.” this was the first time I’d seen Darcie as Darcie and not some mythical,
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untouchable being. It was nice. I told her about my phone and we both Uber’d back to my place

where we kept talking for a good four hours. At this point I wasn’t even drunk but rather just

happy that I was able to keep up the conversation regardless of the fact. I woke up in bed the

next day with little recollection of when she had even gone home. As I make my way back out to

the kitchen where we were talking, I notice a little post-it stuck on the fridge.

“786-912-6675 - Darcie :)” A smile came upon my face, mimicking that of the one on the

note. If only I could remember where I left my pants.