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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? The party was a little light on the hard shit. Eric turns back to give

me a scornful look. Meanwhile, I glance over at Darcie and see her pull out a flask from her

upper thigh.

“Take it easy, hon. Your liver can’t take as many punches as the rest of ya’.” Darcie

replied, concerned. “You got a name?” She asked.

“Jackson.” Again, I was lying. Why? What the actual fuck was I thinking with trying to

impress a woman with a fake name?

“A pleasure, Mr. Jackson. Darcie.” She replied, touching her chest at the final word to

make sure I knew who “Darcie” was. I think I may have been staring for most of the car ride. As
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we finally arrived at the school, something deep within me tried to hide in my stomach. While,

surely, the alcohol would catch up, the feeling of impending embarrassment weighed heavily on

me. Darcie, Eric, and Pete all got out while I still sat there, mortified of whoever decided to come

tonight.

“Feelin’ the swig, bud?” asked Darcie. “I’ve got a painkiller if you need one. Helps

horses calm down after a big race so it should do wonders for you.” I respectfully decline the

tranquilizer and very reluctantly make my way out of the car.

“It’s all good.” I say, before catching up to Eric who is politely taking my arm for

security.

“You all good, bud?” Eric sweetly inquires. He had been too good to me. If I was going

to do this, it’d be for him…. And maybe for a shot at Darcie. Eric escorted me to the check-in

with the grace of a stork bringing a baby in. He hands in his ticket, and I then search for my own.

It’s not in my pockets. Any of them.

“Not right now, Jackson. Please.” pleads Eric. He’d spent months getting everyone

together for tonight and I wasn’t about to be the ruination of it all. I told him to go inside while I

searched for my own entry-pass. No luck. I wait in a far back corner, trying to figure out where it

could be. The hair on my back stands straight like a shot-at soldier when I realize my drunk ass

has left the ticket at home. Just then, I see Darcie walking down the strip of sidewalk adjacent to

me. Hopefully she won’t notice…

“Mister Jackson” she said with a southern drawl of her own. “What’s keeping you?”

“Not much.” I answer. “You ever get too drunk and fuck up horribly? Maybe even ruin

someone’s night?” I didn’t expect much of an answer in return, but I was surprised.
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“Boy, have I. When I turned eighteen my parents took me shopping for a new computer.

Long story short, I had a celebratory shot of jaeger or four and I passed out on the Genius bar at

the Apple store. I’m still not allowed back into that mall.”

“Well that makes me feel a bit better, can’t lie. I left my ticket because I’m a forgetful

dumbass.” I admit. Jesus, how did I even muster the words?

“Hey, it’s okay. This is the only check-in spot so we can always sneak you in through the

back… Unless you don’t want to of course.” Darcie offers sweetly.

“You sure?” I ask.

“Yep. If you are, anyway.” She rebutes.

“Fuck it. Not like I’m going to get many reunion invitations, anyhow.” I say. We make

our way through the sidewalk and I begin to, stupidly, think more about my situation. “You

know, I had the biggest crush on you in high school.” Oh my god, did I just admit that?

“Huh, really? You must’ve been the first.” The very slight sarcasm made Darcie’s

statement hard to decipher as truth or falsehood. Nevertheless, she handled the information better

than she might’ve in high school. A smile and a faint chuckle relieved any tension I had pent up

inside.

“Well, sorry to inform you I’m currently married. Nobody from this school, though, so

don’t be jealous.” She chuckled.

“I’m just glad you didn’t run off, to be honest. You’re so much nicer than I ever had the

chance to give you credit for.” I say in response. Never had I thought this is how the

conversation would happen but I can’t deny it gave me peace.

“High school was a weird time for everyone, Jackson. Not everyone saw eye-to-eye as

we found out who we were, but that’s okay. We can make better decisions now, on our own.
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Without anyone’s judgments making a dent in our vision.” Darcie replied with the wisdom of

Athena. I was absolutely, drunkenly gobsmacked… Maybe even a bit in love. But I knew, in that

moment, that drunk me had not made the best choices tonight.

“Darcie, I appreciate you. And before anythin’else, I think it’s fair that you know my

accent is fake.” I say.

“What? NOOOOOO!” She responds, sarcastically. Guess my Jeff Bridges voice could

use some work. I was happy with how she reacted, nonetheless. It helped take away from my

anxiety about it all. “I appreciate your honesty, Jackson. You’re the sweetest drunk I’ve yet to

see. But I think if you don’t want to be here, then you shouldn’t have to be.” I felt shitty but I

was kind of hoping she’d say that.

“I just don’t want to hurt Eric. He actually gave a shit in high school and he deserves a

night of reliving good times, with friends.” I stated.

“From what he’s texted us, you’re the best of friends. Don’t think Eric would want a

drunken fuck-up to end this.” She said. My hesitation was severe. I had absolutely no intentions

of going in especially now that I had realistic incentives to derive from. But, my buddy wanted

me to be there with him. The only buddy who would text me after high school ended.

“Okay.” I say.

“Okay? You sure you got enough liquor in you to stomach tonight?”

“Yeah, I kind of sobered up completely when I told you about having a crush… on

you…” This was no lie on my part. “Besides, I’m going to actually try and have a good time

here.”

“Fuck yeah.” Darcie reassuringly replies. “Stick with me, kid. You’ll be okay.”
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As we enter the building, a flood of nostalgia cracks at my mental dam but with no success of

breaking through. I was no longer in high school, nor was I the same person I am now. I awoke

the next morning with a grueling headache, a crumpled suit and tie, and a need for pictures of

last night's event. Now, if only I could find my pants.