Brian tried to hold back a wince as his wrists buckled against the pressure of his pint of

Bud Light crushing back onto him with surprising force. Cheers. In seconds, the glasses were
empty and slammed down onto the scarred table with authority. Breathing hard, he sat down
with a mildly convincing smile and tried to regain his composure. This was a celebration. He
was celebrating forgetting. Forgetting the last ten months of his life spent failing at something so
pathetically that he thought he was succeeding the whole time. Tom jumped onto a chair and
shouted:
“This guy just got set free! Let’s remind him what freedom is all about!” He raised his
arms in the air trying to incite a chant. “Fuck her!” He was greeted with a round of ‘fuck her’,
but a few ‘sit the fuck down, asshole’-s managed to sneak in. Three welcoming hands reached
over and patted Brian on the back. They tried to use a more sincere and genuine tone by
repeating ‘fuck her’. He almost felt touched. He didn’t know what he felt anymore, aside from
drunk. He wanted to tell them he was glad they were there and that he really appreciated them
caring about him, but he didn’t feel those things. He didn’t even wish he was with her. All he
wanted was to finally not fail at something important to him. School wasn’t important to him;
his mother picked where he would go and what he would major in. His fraternity wasn’t
important to him; he only joined because it was an easy social outlet and it would give him
friends and a place to live. She wasn’t even important to him. It was the idea of her and what
she symbolized. They had nothing in common and barely talked unless it was him making fun of
her for lack of something to do. So he drank. He drank because it helped him forget that he was
a passionate man that couldn’t find a damn thing to be passionate about. A blond wearing a tight
t-shirt was led over to his chair by Jerry. Her smile was genuine, but her eyes seemed empty and
thoughtless.
“I hear you needed some company tonight?” She incorrectly phrased the statement as a
question and Brian didn’t fight his visual distaste. Before he could answer, Jerry hip checked her
into his lap and shot him a thumbs up while mouthing the words ‘oh yea’. She smiled and threw
her arms around his neck. Awkward silence followed until she decided to break the ice with
some intellectual conversation. “Hey! I’m Kelsey.” She paused and waited for him to introduce
himself. He didn’t. She didn’t care. “What’s your major?”
“Drinking.” His tone was dry and lacked the body language that typically accompanied a
joke. She didn’t notice and laughed anyway.
“I’m a veterinary science major. I just love animals so much and I want to help them in
any way I can!” He smiled then, but only because he knew that when she got her second
semester grades she would be a psychology major the next week. She misread the smile and
pulled his head into her chest and laughed. “You’re sweet.” An overwhelming waft of what was
probably bottom-shelf vodka soared into Brian's nostrils. Her hazy and empty eyes tried to catch
Brian’s, but they were looking over her shoulder at Jerry and his tongue being five inches deep
into Kelsey’s friend’s mouth. He wanted to warn him that he might get a mouthful of her vomit
if he pushed any farther, but he decided that not telling him would prove more entertaining.
“I haven’t even said anything.” His eyes locked with hers for a moment and he could
have sworn he felt dumber for doing so.
 “I can just tell. The way you’re holding me… I can tell you care.” She waited for him to
respond but he didn’t. He just sat there and let her kiss him lightly on the lips once, pull back
only for a second, then pull his head from behind against hers. He kissed back. She pulled back
and bit her bottom lip, grabbed his hand and guided him out the front door. From the bar, they
walked across the street to the freshman dorms and straight into her room. He didn’t respond all
night. He never said a word. At three A.M., when she had finally fallen asleep, he stood out of
her bed without making the slightest effort to be silent and walked quietly back to his room on
the other side of campus. He was not proud. He was not ashamed. He passed a group of three
girls all arm-in-arm using each other for balance.
“Walk of shame!” They laughed to each other and the girls on the end with free arms
pointed. Silent, he put his head down and walked straight through the female barrier, knocking
the middle girl straight to the ground with a hard thump. The two drunken girls left standing
were too dumbfounded to respond, but the (sadly) uninjured fallen victim was quick to defend
herself against the assault. “What the fuck?! Fuck you, prick!” She waved her middle-finger
in the air but Brian continued walking without a look back to receive it. Half a mile later, he
swiped into his building and walked up the stairs to his room. Tony, the fourth member of the
foursome and Brian’s roommate, lay asleep in his bed alone. Fully clothed and fully drunk,
Brian crawled to his bed and laid on his back. He reached into his pocket to retrieve an
unopened condom and tossed it to the general area of his desk and closed his eyes without a
second thought. He dreamed of fishing in an open pond with his father. His name was Brian
Franco and he was twenty-one years old.

Brian rolled over on his side and piled his pillows over his head to try and block out the
overwhelming sounds of gunfire and mayhem. In a fit of frustration, he flung off his sound
barrier and sat upright in his bed. The sudden movements made his stomach curdle and he
regretted not remaining in his cozy bed, half-asleep.
“You know, I go through a lot of effort to not wake you up when I come in at night and
this is how you repay me?” His tone was forceful but Tony knew exactly what he meant. Tony
focused intently on his TV before responding.
“Bam. Double head shot. That’s a solid ‘good morning’.”
“Thanks, I couldn’t take hearing you die over and over.” Their relationship had grown
beyond laughing at each other’s jokes to barely acknowledging that they weren’t serious.
“So how was the bimbo?” Tony never took his attention off the screen.
“Kelly is not a bimbo. She wants to be a vet today, did you know that? She is going
places.” Brian swung his legs off his bed and kicked them back and forth like a child at a
swimming pool.
“I’m pretty sure her name was Kelsey, man. You sure do know how to pick ‘em though.
You’re a real class act.” Tony maneuvered his shoulders as if dodging a bullet and triumphantly
mashed his controller and smiled.
 “I know how? I think you mean Jerry does. I was his involuntary wingman last night. I
think I saw him put his entire head in that girl’s mouth. It was pretty impressive! Did he come
back last night?”
“I haven’t left the room and I don’t really remember me getting home last night, so
you’re better off asking elsewhere. Fuck! Did you just see that bullshit?! I was probably
upwards of three feet from that grenade.” He threw his controller on the floor and finally faced
Brian. “But how was she? You never answered me before.” Brian blushed and looked down,
clearly trying to give the answer without speaking. Tony got off of his futon and slowly crept
over to Brian with an astonished look on his face. “Did Brian finally seal the deal?! Did Brian
overcome?! Did Brian-fucking-Franco finally move on from his so-obvious-to-everyone-but-
him failed relationship?!”
“Eat shit. That was a line-cross. Straight up. There is nothing to get over, okay? I’m
not some pathetic wounded animal that needs Kelsey the Wonder Vet to come and save from a
bear trap before I chew my leg off out of desperation, okay? And what do you mean finally? We
broke up on Wednesday. You bastards are relentless, I swear to God. And even if her and I did
‘seal the deal’, which I still will neither confirm nor deny, it wouldn’t magically solve any of the
problems you assholes are so convinced I have.” He bounded off his bed and stomped through
their dorm room and out the open door to the bathroom, but before he was out of earshot he
heard Tony mutter ‘pussy” under his breath. Brian stopped dead in his tracks and stormed back
into the room. Red-faced and breathing heavily, he stared directly into Tony’s now legitimately
scared eyes. There was a long pause as Tony cringed slightly, waiting for the shit-storm to rain
down on him.
“Dude…” Tony’s eyes raced in their sockets trying to find the right words in his mind.
Before he could finish his thought, Brian interjected.
“She had really off-set nipples.” An enormous smile covered Brian’s face as he held
back a tidal wave of laughter.
“Fucking sweet dude! You owned him!” Tom’s voiced could be heard through the
paper-thin walls. Tony shook his head back and forth in embarrassment. “Brian got you…
again… How does that feel?”
“It feels great!” Tony’s clearly sarcastic comment made everyone laugh. Brian shook
Tony’s shoulders back and forth. “The only reason I’m letting you touch me right now is cause
your filthy ass probably didn’t wash your hands after playing with those sweet, sweet titties.”
Brian rubbed his hands all over Tony’s face and he shook his head back and forth. “Okay.
Okay! Get off me. Tom! I think you actually managed to puke on a police car last night instead
of in one.”
“Boilermakers’ll do that to you. At least Officer Dog couldn’t open the door and arrest
me.”
“Or bite your face in half. I have trouble enough looking at you after a night at the bar to
being with. Whatever. Let’s eat.” Tom popped out of his room fully dressed and ran down the
hall and stairs banging on doors to alert everyone that wanted to eat with people that they were
leaving. They didn’t live in a dorm to the exact definition; it was their fraternity house that was
regulated through the university. This meant they still had the student police, or RAs, patrolling
the halls at night just itching to cite their rival fraternity’s members for underage drinking.
Fifteen of Brian’s ‘brothers’ lived in that house together with another fifteen living around
campus or at their party house just off campus. Their dorm stood three stories tall and in the
company of eight other buildings arranged in a circle either identical to it or twice the size, all
filled with other fraternity or sorority members that Brian unconditionally hated. Most people
thought he hated them due to fraternity allegiances, but the real reason was that he hated frat
guys and sorority girls in general. He even hated himself a little for being in one and never wore
letters or told anyone he was unless they asked. He liked his friends, but he didn’t like the
political bullshit that came with them. The entire concept cheapened the friendship in his eyes,
almost reducing it to something forced instead of voluntary. But Brian was a cynic. A very
confused cynic that refused to admit he didn’t know everything at all times.
Walking back from the dining hall, Jerry shoved Tony into a prickly bush and was very
proud of himself.

The month of October breezed by, leaving failed homework assignments, aced exams,
and a very well rested crowd of horny, anxious, and thirsty undergrads waiting for their
Halloween parties to kick off. The guys threw big parties every weekend, but their Halloween
parties always seemed to drive all sorts of new people to their house. Friends from home, people
who only partied on special occasions, even complete strangers could happily enjoy the “free”
keg beer without a second glance from any brothers. Free meaning that each brother threw in
twenty-five dollars of his hard-earned money so that people he didn’t know and may never even
meet could drink without paying. The initial altruism was heartwarming but the real reason was
the difference in punishment between dispensing alcohol to minors and soliciting alcohol to
minors. When parties got up to the hundreds of people, those consequences could easily ruin the
future of which ever poor soul put his name on those kegs. The people needed their beer and
they needed their people. It was a perfect cycle that left everyone drunk and in company. Not
necessarily good company, but definitely company. That’s all that these college kids wanted…
everything else happened on its own.
Parties tended to be hit-or-miss for Brian when it came to meeting girls, but his costume
was a sure-fire ticket with the right crowd. The only problem was that it heavily relied on a good
jumpsuit. Being a zombie for Halloween was standard, even being a zombie-version of a famous
person wasn’t anything new, but if anyone else put as much research, time, and effort into being
zombie Dale Earnhardt this year, he was going to find them and pat them on the back.
Everything had to be perfect for him to feel completely validated in his choice. He needed the
racing jump suit, he needed to know all of Dale’s sponsors, he needed to get patches and put
them on the correct area of the suit, but, most of all, he needed to spend the time to grow a
mustache. Fake mustaches are for hacks. Although his make-up job was sub-par at best, the
social ridicule couldn’t match the feeling of accomplishment racing through his veins when he
looked at his completed masterpiece. With a cool smirk, he spoke to his mirror.
“Two of my favorite things are my steering wheel and my Remington rifle.” His
NASCAR accent was poor, but his knowledge of The Intimidator was staggering. This was
going to be a good night; he could feel it in his bones.
 The Halloween party was in full swing when Brian and Tony showed up at nine with a
healthy buzz going. Tony decided to go with the rapist pedophile look this year, wearing a long,
brown trench coat, extremely large and thick-framed glasses, an awkward fake beard literally
taped to his face, and a strap-on penis strategically placed under the coat to complete the look.
Brian was convinced Jon LaJoie, the inspiration for his lovely costume, would sue greatly but
would still appreciate it. As predicted, the house was packed full of both regulars and strangers
crowding around both tapped kegs and both beer pong tables. Halloween was one of those rare
holidays that managed to hold extreme significance in both young children and young adults, but
the college students like a bit more than just the candy and pumpkins. In a way, for a northern
state, it signified the last big party before the cold set in and people began to leave their rooms
less frequently. Loud bass echoed in Brian’s chest as he surveyed the sweaty living room for
friendly faces. Jerry spotted him from across the ‘dance floor’ and walked straight through the
crowd towards him (half shouldering a small freshman to the floor without a change in facial
expression).
“The Intimidator. That’s bitchin’ man.” Brian fumbled with Jerry’s intricate handshake
that was part formal, part ghetto, all confused.
“I see you went all out his year, too.” A tag hung around Jerry’s neck that read ‘To:
Women. From: God’, otherwise his typical pink polo and khakis looked normal. “I grow a
goddamn mustache for three weeks and you spend three minutes with some printer paper and a
sharpie. Typical.”
“Ha! Sweet costume, Jerry.” A hard body in a nurse outfit with cat ears walked up to
Jerry and draped her arms around his shoulders. “What are you, a mechanic?” Seething with
silent rage, Brian mentally stabbed her in the throat with a railroad spike and answered her
question.
“Yea, I actually just got off work and came straight over without washing all this soot off
my face. I’m the number three mechanic in the county.” He cleared his throat and looked her up
and down. “How can you call that a costume? It’s a glorified… never mind.” Brian took a big
chug of his flat keystone, tipped his aviators over his eyes, and walked to the basement living
room. “Well, look who it is, partied-out Tom booting in the shower again.” Without peaking his
head over the railing of the tub, Tom flashed Brian a thumbs up.
“Puke and rally, bro. Puke and rally.” Tom spit hard.
“You’re the gold medalist of the puke and rally. See you back here in twenty?” Tom let
out a violent heave with no sound of expulsion. “Fifteen?”
“Fifteen.”
“Nobody does it half as good as you.” Brian slapped Tom hard on the back and left to
explore more, but before he could turn out of the bathroom, Tony swung around the corner and
slammed Brian in the chest back into the room. The door locked instantly and Tony looked
extremely panicked. “Dude?”
“Nutso Nancy alert. Right outside… by flip cup. Oh, hey Tom. Puke and rally.” Tom
gave Tony a weak wave.
 “My Nancy or yours?”
“Yours. I wish it was mine for your sake, man. That mustache looks good in this light
though, but it kinda comes off as a redneck stache and not a badass stache. Too much Jeff
Foxworthy for my taste. Sexy though.”
“Shut up about that. What is she wearing?”
“I didn’t recognize it. You might. Way pink hair.”
“It’s Cyndi Lauper. God damn it. Why tonight?” Brian reached into his back pocket for
his last beer, but it was missing. Tom sat Indian-style on the bathroom floor drinking it with two
hands like he was a homeless man trying to consume the last drops of soup from his crusty 1992
Washington Redskins Championship mug. “If you weren’t so pretty, I’d slap you in the mouth.”
Tom put the can down and gave Brian a toothy smile while poking his dimple. “Run screen for
me, Tony. I’m going up.”
“Word. She won’t see a thing. Breach on Zulu… break!” Tony held his fingers up like
a fake gun and tactically exited the bathroom. “Clear!” Brian scrambled past his bodyguard and
ascended the stairs three at a time back to the dance floor. At the top, he let out a deep breath,
adjusted his hair, and B-lined it to the refrigerator to replenish his fading drunk. From behind
him, he heard his named being called out by a female voice. Busted. His mind repeated ‘just get
to the fridge’ as quickly as it could, but he felt a hand on his shoulder just five feet from the
glowing white door. He had to turn around now.
“I know Junior's fast, but I’m faster.” Kelsey’s big blue eyes probably saw nothing but
images of two cartoon squirrels chasing each other in circles.
“Junior doesn’t have a mustache… it doesn’t matter. What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, silly! Jerry said you’d be here.” He took slow steps backward toward
the freezer while cursing Jerry inaudibly. It had been a month since Brian left her snoring,
beautiful self alone in her bed and he was very okay with trying to extend that time period.
“This is my house, of course I’m gonna be here.”
“Oh! You live here?” He knew he had said too much. “Which room is yours?” She
looked around as if expecting to see a sign that read ‘Brian’s Room Here’.
“I live downstairs by the bathroom. You can wait there for me if you want; I just have to
re-beer.”
“I’ll totally see you there.” She stepped closer and hinged her thumbs in his front
pockets. He glanced down to see what her hands were doing, but his eyes landed firmly on the
cleavage busting out of her Little Bo Peep blouse. Blood coursed through his veins, but he
resisted the siren’s call and peeled away.
“See you in a bit.” He turned his back to her and tried to think of the ugliest person in the
world: Willam DeFoe. The fridge was his at last. He popped open the top compartment and
grabbed his bottle of Jager. Holding it up to the light, he could see about seven shots remained;
more than enough to keep him warm and happy tonight. He slipped out of the back door without
drawing too much attention to himself and plopped down onto a creaky Adirondack chair, just
like the kind his father made him when he was in middle school. The yard was relatively
desolate minus the random strangers staggering out of the house to pee in the woods, none of
which took notice to Brian. He nursed his bottle slowly and tried to figure out his next move.
The driveway called his name like it had many times before; always providing an escape route
followed by a drunken trek through two miles of dark, wooded back road. The fear of getting
mugged or kidnapped was always less intense than the anxiety he felt when he started to lose
control of his mind at a party. It always had to do with Nancy. Why was she there? Was she
trying to see him or provoke him? Did she miss him? He could feel his grip getting tighter
around the bottle and his anxiety ramped up to a new level. Being alone wasn’t helping. He
downed the rest of the Jager and threw the bottle over his shoulder into the woods. He squirmed
to his feet and the world spun around in a violent swirl that almost brought him to his knees.
Apparently he had gone a little farther than he had planned, but there was no turning back now.
As he approached the back door, he could see his reflection in the pane of glass. Looking back
between the driveway and his reflection, his options became clear. Run and hide or brave the
storm? What would Dale do? Brian may not have felt it was the right thing to do, but his
mustache did. His hand slid over the brass knob and he turned it forcefully down. He was done
running.

When Brian heard the door latch shut behind him, the gravity of his choice washed over
him like hotel hot tub water with too much chlorine. In front of him, the bustle of drunken
mingling made his head hurt and the smell of sweat started to throw his equilibrium towards the
downside of drinking half a liter of Jager. The bottoms of his shoes lightly stuck to the wood
floor as he approached his dreaded conclusion. Just two steps from the stairs, Jerry flew around
the corner with a half smile and two lazy eyes, blinking wildly at Brian until his brain finally
registered who he was looking at. His shirt was stained with what looked like the remnants of
Jell-O shots.
“Brian, you son of a bitch, I’ve been looking for you all over.” His speech was slow and
deliberate. “You’re a popular guy tonight, there’re a ton of people looking for you.” He was
using his hands as a balance against the wall and swayed as he spoke. Surprisingly composed,
Brian responded.
“It’s been a weird one.”
“No shit. No shit…” He trailed off and he stared into space until his mind clicked back
on. “Dude! There was this dude looking for you! I have been slaying it in beer pong tonight
man. Running the table. Running the show… running…” Brian didn’t have time for this.
“Thanks mate, I’m out.” He ducked under Jerry’s support and wondered who this dude
was. The beer pong table in the living room sported Mario and Luigi versus Paul Wall and Flava
Flav. Brian smiled and took his mind off the mysterious dude. Glancing at his cell phone, he
realized that he had been sitting outside for half an hour. That meant Nancy could be anywhere
in the house; maybe even gone altogether. Kelsey, on the other hand, was probably still outside
Brian’s fake bedroom wondering who the better cuddler was between Pooh Bear and the Stay-
Puff Marshmallow Man. He needed to find Tony. The front porch would be his first spot to
look. On the way over, Cowboy sped inside and threw the door shut behind him.
“Cops!” Everybody inside! Shut up and be cool!” He used his hands to motion for
people to be calm. Russ killed the Flo Rida album with a frown and everyone whispered
amongst themselves. Brian’s trip outside was foiled; the house was on lock down and people
from all entrances of the house flooded in and tried to abandon their evidence of under-aged
drinking. Frustrated, Brian stood in the corner and waited for this routine drill to blow over. As
soon as he got comfortable, his personal space was invaded by a pimple-faced duo awkwardly
pecking and butterfly kissing each other. Sufficiently pinned by the couple, he was forced to
wait until they left on their own or forcedly move them. He waited. They did not move. Before
his anger boiled over onto these unsuspecting victims, his eyes caught a flash of hot pink and all
anger faded. Though initially in denial, he knew it was Nancy’s hair from across the room. Try
He had to look at her again even though the last time he had seen her she was walking out of his
bedroom after rejecting his desperate proposal for marriage. He wanted to kill her and kiss her,
but he didn’t know which he wanted more. Her teased out, dyed half-blonde, half-pink hair cried
out for him to run his fingers through it one more time and he began to wonder if his callous
attitude toward the situation was just a front to cover his damaged core. Her hold on him was
tightening even when he thought he may have finally wiggled free. He tried to crane his neck
over Mr. Pimple-face to see her enormous green eyes again, but, in his haste, he drunkenly lost
his balance and fell forward, completely wiping out the human barrier around him. An angry
Mr. Pimple-face climbed to his feet, leaving Ms. Pimple-face on the ground, and proceeded to
berate Brian.
“What the fuck was that?! You got a fucking problem?” You know what? Brian did
have a problem.
“I would ask, but I’m just going to assume you do more than kiss your mom with that
mouth. I mean, it looks like you got her herpes all up in that area.” Brian drew a circle in the air
around Pimp’s face with his finger. Pimp grabbed his wrist and wound up his other hand for a
punch, but he was too drunk and it sailed wide of Brian’s dodging head. A circle formed around
the combatants in the corner of the room as Cowboy traversed the crowd to attempt to break up
the scuffle. Brian remained calm and smirked as he waited for the next blow. “Just land one;
with pythons like those you might just punch my face in half.” Infuriated, Pimp landed a punch
in Brian’s stomach, bringing him to his knees. He was winded, but still smirking. “Where did
you pick up that horse-face, anyway? At the-” His words were cut off by a solid downward slam
to his right temple; laying him flat out against the germ-ridden floor. He winced in pain as a
trickle of blood ran down the side of his mouth, but he kept smiling. Before any other punches
or trash talk could occur, Cowboy speared the drunken thug into the corner.
“You just wait til the cops leave, you fuck. This is going to be funny.” He slammed
Pimp hard into the wall again as Russ and Tom stood behind him waiting for the beat-down. Ms
Horse-face McPimpleton had finally found her way back to her knees and crawled over to the
bloodied comedian on the floor.
“It was an accident, I know that. Paul gets like that. He’s just protective of me.” She
looked sincere but it didn’t make a difference.
 “Get away from me.”
“Why? I’m trying to apologize.”
“No. Really. Get away.” He breathed heavily.
“What is your prob-” Brian tried to roll away from her as fast as he could, but a fountain
of vomit sprayed out of his mouth and onto her jeans, as well as up the walls and on the floor.
Brian spit loudly unto the floor and immediately exploded into laughter.
“Let the kid go, Cowboy. I asked for it.” Disappointed, he slammed Paul into the wall
for the last time and pointed at the door for him to get out. As Paul walked out the door (and
right into the back seat of a police car for possession of cocaine), he looked back at Brian who
was smiling and waving at him with blood covering his teeth. Brian rolled on his back, sighed,
and reached his hand up to Tom for help. Lifted back to his feet, he put his hand on Tom’s
shoulder.
“Puke and rally, man. Puke and rally.” Tom laughed and replied.
“I’ll give you the silver medal since I got mine in the toilet.” Cowboy rushed over again.
“Dude, are you okay?”
“Ha. Silly freshman. You act like that was my first ass-kicking.”
“Right. Sorry man. I’ll clean that shit up.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I will, go rest.”
“Thanks, buddo.” Still very dazed, Brian made his way to the bathroom to wash his
mouth out but a mass of bleached and pink hair stood in his way. She looked pissed.
“Why am I not surprised that you’re too drunk and picking fights?”
“I didn’t fight back.” A drop of blood fell from his chin and onto the top of her high-
heel. He didn’t notice. All he could see was her eyes and her red lip stick; red like the blood on
her shoe.
“You never fight back. You just antagonize and antagonize and then you run away so
you think you’re not to blame.”
“I know I’m to blame. Why are you doing this? Why are you even here? This is my
house. You're the one that ran away, not me.”
“You’re right. It’s my fault. My fault that I didn’t want to get married when I was
nineteen to a guy I’ve known for a year that is leaving school this semester to who knows
where.” Brian fought tears admirably but his voice was shaky.
“You never gave me a chance.”
 “You would have never given me a chance to live my life!” Her voice rose almost to a
yell and she caught herself. “You’re right, why am I here?” She flashed him a peace sign and
walked out the back door. Fighting tears wasn’t an option anymore. Luckily, he was standing
next to the large closet that housed all the kegs. Inside, he sat down on an empty keg, buried his
face in his hands and sobbed quietly to himself. After about ten minutes of self pity, his phone
buzzed in his pocket. Flipping it open, he read a text from Tony that said he had heard about the
fight and wanted to see the damage. Brian had completely forgotten about his recent beating and
realized that his jump suit and hands were smeared with his blood. Triumphantly bounding to
his feet, he shook off his emotions, ran his biohazardous fingers through his hair, and spit a wad
of blood against the door. He was ready to emerge.
“Tony, Over here!” Brian showed him his decorated smile.
“Man, you know how to party. Your bimbo downstairs stole my beard. You're just
fortunate she didn't seal something else.” He pointed at his still-intact fake erection.
“And I was just hoping you were happy to see me. Wanna shotgun? I lost my buzz all
over that wall.”
“I dunno, I'm doing pretty good right now.”
“Well, you're doing well. And I'll do two then, that way I put up less of a fight when you
try to take advantage of me tonight.”
“I'm hurt to think you'd fight... but excited at the same time. Alright, you're on.”
“Yahtzee.” Brian skipped over to the kitchen to find every one of his keystones had been
nabbed. Grudgingly, he gathered an arms'-full of Natural Ice and hauled his cargo to the front
porch. “What time is it?”
“12:30, and I hope you brought an extra. Cowboy wants in.”
“I owe him; he cleaned up my puke.” Brian dished out the beer having expected an
additional participant. The three men retrieved their keys from their pockets and jammed them
through the bottom of the side of the can with a rewarding fountain of beer gushing out in a short
blast. With their thumbs, they widened the hole to about the size of a quarter and looked around
the triangle for approval. “What are we doing this to, Cowboy?”
“Oh, I can't decide.”
“Do it.” Tony and Brian echoed the statement with fake force.
“Uh... Um... dead NASCAR drivers?”
“Weak, but let's go with it. Probably safer than doing it to pedophiles.” They cracked
their cans in unison and lifted them upright in the air. Gravity and suction accelerated the beer
from its can to their stomachs. Brian finished his first, cracked his second and was halfway done
by the time Tony threw his can down in victory with a large burp and cough. Cowboy spilled
most of his down the front of his shirt and gagged because he was laughing. Freshman...
 “I can never understand how you go that fast, man. You're like some kind of robot.”
Tony crudely tried to do the robot with his arms while making hydraulic sounds but Cowboy and
Brian just shook their heads in disappointment. “Fuck you guys. I coulda been somebody if it
weren't for all these negative 'tudes holding me down.” Brian puffed out his bottom lip as far as
he could and gave Tony his best sad-puppy eyes.
“Muffin! Don't cry.”
“Eat me.”
“Anyway... is the Wonder Vet still poking around? If I don't find her, I might as well call
this entire night a wash and hang myself for putting so much work into a failed costume.”
“Cheer up, emo kid. She's playing beer pong downstairs. She hasn’t lost all night! Been
on it for almost two hours, I'd say. She's downright bombed.” Brian smiled deviously.
“She probably didn't see the fight then. Should I play the pity card or the bad-ass card?”
“Do you even need to play a card? You could tell her you've been out back trying to
tame her a pet deer and she wouldn't know the difference. Her room or ours?”
“Have you talked with your Nancy? Are you going to be at our place tonight?”
“Man, the whole hooking-up-with-your-taken-ex thing is more complicated than that.
She has to get in touch with me. It's usually a late-night booty call or she had a rough night with
Todd.” His voice whined when he said Todd's name. Tony wasn't happy about being used, but
he broke up with her and she kept coming back. Who was he to say no? It had been like this for
almost a year now. Brian could tell Tony was getting mentally worn out by it all, but Tony's
pride kept him from asking for her heart back. Either that or his fear of rejection.
“I'll go to her room, just in case you get the call. Besides, it's best if she doesn't know
where I really live... Don't want her popping up there too.”
“I wouldn't mind if she popped up there.” Tony shook his head back and forth like he
had in Brian's hands the week before. Cowboy laughed too hard and then tried to pretend he
hadn't. “Wear a rubber man; who knows where that thing has been kicking around.”
“Local truck-stops and probably every McDonald's bathroom within fifty miles, I'd
wager.”
“And here I thought you had the class to only sleep with Kid Rock roadies and the stay-
at-home wives of oil tycoons... both of which have severe cocaine problems, mind you.”
“Hey man, when you've got it, you've got it. I'm out” Brian and Tony simultaneously
gave each other the finger and Brian underhanded his empty beer can at Cowboy who failed to
react until it had hit him in the chest.
Tony wasn't lying; Kelsey was on the beer pong table downstairs with the cat-nurse as
her partner. They had an eight-to-two lead on the other team, which consisted of Russ and
Sobchak; two of the fraternity's finest. Each time either of the girls made a cup, an explosion of
ear-piercing shrieks would dominate all other sound in the vicinity. They would face each other,
interlock their hands, and jump up and down in celebration as if they had just gotten a negative
pregnancy result after a long-delayed period. Nobody liked to lose to that team. Losing to that
team was like losing to the obligatory fat kid from your fourth grade class in the mile run even
though he stopped to walk pretty much 75% of the time. Losing to them made you feel like you
were less human. Brian was about to bail on his decision to go with Kelsey and just start tying
his noose but they spotted him.
“Mechanic! Why don't you go fix my car!” Nurse busted out a deep guffaw in
appreciation of her joke but the rest of the room was stuck in awkward silence. Kelsey tossed a
shot from her hip with half her attention and sank the one cup, sending Russ and Sobchak to sip
at their drinks in shame. She didn't even realize she made it; she was already floating over to
Brian's empty arms while the ball's fate was still pending.
“Baby! Where have you been?”
Brian gave her a smile. “I've been out back. I saw the cutest bunny and I was trying to
lure it over to the house. I had it eat a carrot right out of my hand. It was magical.” Kelsey put
her hands over her mouth and her gorgeous blue eyes grew with excitement. Brian could smell
the booze on her breath.
“Oh. My. God. That is SO cute!”
“I was going to give it to you if I caught it.”
“Aw... that is the sweetest thing ever. I mean that.” She leaned forward and kissed him
gently on the lips. She leaned farther still, pressing her breasts against his chest, and whispered
in his ear. “Let's go. I want you now.”
“We can't go to my room.”
“Why not? I can't wait much longer.” Brian squirmed at the thought as he tried to
convince himself not to take her to Sobchak's room.
“I had to put Cowboy down. He's all pukey and passed out.” He could feel her warm
breath on his neck as her fingers hooked into his pockets again. “We could go to your place
again.” She frowned with disappointment. Brian was thankful that no one in the room seemed
to notice their interaction since Sobchak and Russ pretended like they had never lost and
continued to play.
“Baby, I'm tired. I don't wanna walk all that way.” Brian put his hands on her hips and
pulled her closer. She gave him a flirtatious smile and cocked her head slightly. “Let's just go
out back.” Jackpot. Now Brian could hook up with her and leave her here after she passed out
(which she would definitely do; he could feel her swaying in his arms). Part of him felt bad, but
the rest of him knew that that was all she wanted anyway. As she lead him by the hand up the
stairs and through the living room, Tony and Cowboy drew Brian's attention with their
pantomime air-humping and crude finger-sex gestures. Brian used his free hand to straighten his
mustache and shoot them a finger gun before he was pulled out the back door.
 The woods were damp with what Brian hoped was rain and not urine. Bo Peep herded
him a few hundred feet into the woods and pinned him willingly against a tree by his shoulders.
His hands rested on her tight stomach as she ran her fingers through his hair and gently tugged
on it when she reached the back of his head. He could feel her stomach making strange motions,
but he was more concerned with trying to breathe as his super-babe almost painfully mashed her
lips against his. Without reservation, he pushed his tongue deep into her mouth and accidentally
set off a marvelous chain reaction of gag, heave, and spray down the front of Brian's perfectly
stitched jump suit. In complete disbelief, he took his hands off of her and her limp body
crumpled to the dirt as if something had sucked the soul our of her. He could do nothing but
stand and stare. She could do nothing but cry and fail at speaking (presumably trying to form an
apology). He started to wish he had hung himself instead. The smell of her vomit made his eyes
roll back momentarily and he gagged gingerly, barely managing to keep his muscles under
control. Kelsey just shook her head and muttered inaudibly as her drunken brain struggled to
process life. Brian managed the first words.
“Don't... don't cry. Please. It's okay.” He wanted to reach out and comfort her but his
arms were paralyzed in shock. “Please, Kelsey, I promise it's okay.” She sniffled loudly and
looked at him through still-gorgeous but bloodshot eyes. He actually felt bad for her. He
actually felt a real emotion towards her that wasn't lust or disgust.
“I want to go home.” Her voice was froggy and a droplet of snot peaked out of the
bottom of her nostril. Her eye liner was starting to smudge out and she looked increasingly
vulnerable. Brian shook his arms out, unzipped his jump suit and climbed out of it. He stood
essentially clean and exclusively wearing boxers in the surprisingly cold woods. He pulled her
to a vomit-free tree and sat down with his legs outstretched and pulled her against his bare body
but she continued to cry and curled into the fetal position against him. Her bare legs began to
show visible goose bumps from the cold and Brian rubbed her softly to try and warm her up.
“I'll go inside and get some clothes and I'll walk you back to your place.”
“Don't leave me out here.”
“Okay... I don't live here, I lied. I live at the frat circle.” She was quiet but didn't try to
move away from him. He briefly tightened his hold on her to assure her he was still there. She
snuggled into him more.
“Okay. Go get your clothes and meet me in the driveway.” She took her head off of his
shoulders and looked him in the eyes. For once, he saw life. Involuntarily, he smiled at his new
found discovery and a fragile smile budded on her face as well. He climbed to his feet and
offered his hand to help her up. She accepted. They stood a few feet from each other in
comfortable silence.
“You know, I think I'll just walk back like this. It's still warm enough out and I want to
get as much of the warm weather as I can.”
“I don't want you to catch cold.” She giggled softly.
 “Don't worry, I'm way tough. And don't worry about that either,” he motioned towards
his suit, “I puked on a girl earlier tonight, too. Kinda different circumstance though.” She
giggled again.
“What happened?” As they walked out of the woods and away from his soiled
masterpiece, he explained to her about the fight and the aftermath. He left out the part about
Nancy. The rest of the trip was filled with idle chatter until they stopped in front of the frat
circle. Their once comfortable silence turned into an awkward silence full of avoided eye
contact and blushing.
“I'll walk you the rest of the way back.” He nudged her softly on the shoulder.
“No, it's fine. It's not far to my dorm.”
“You've had a long night, you could use some company.”
“You're practically naked, I don't want you to go through campus like that.”
“Here, let's run up to my room and I'll get some clothes and we'll go.”
“Okay, I'll go with you so I can go to the bathroom.” They walked into the building and
up the stairs to Brian's floor. He directed her to the trashed bathroom and went to his room.
There was a post-it note on his door that he quickly removed. It read:
“At the Nanc-Pad. Don't eat without me tomorrow.” Also accompanying the message
was a stick-figure drawing of two people having doggy-style sex with arrows labeling Brian and
Wonder Vet. He quickly destroyed the note before she could see it. Fully clothed, Brian exited
his room only to find Kelsey looking bashful.
“Is it... okay if I... stay here?”
“Yea, sure! Good idea. Fuck walking. I'll sleep on the futon.” He welcomed her inside
and threw some dirty clothes in his hamper to tidy up.
“No, I can sleep on the futon, it's your room.”
“And you're my guest. I promise, it's fine. Just let me steal a pillow from up there.” He
grabbed a pillow and waited for her to climb into his bed before he turned off the lights.
Stumbling through the dark, he practically fell onto his one-night bed and got cozy. At a slightly
audible tone, Kelsey whispered his name. Without a response, she continued.
“Come up here. I'm cold.” Without replying, he retrieved his pillow and crawled over
her to lay against the wall. She rolled over to face him. “I knew there was something about you.
From the moment I met you, I knew.” Her lips tasted minty as she kissed him quickly and rolled
back over. Brian hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He rested his
head against the back of her neck and fell asleep happier than he had been in months. He
dreamed of a bunny eating carrots out of his hand.
 Brian opened his eyes and tried to let them adjust to the bright light in his room.
Someone had left the blinds open and he was not ready to get out of bed to close them. Tony's
bed was lofted above the futon almost to the ceiling so it was difficult to see if he was there or
not, but Brian had adapted the technique of looking at the sag in the box spring. Tony was
absent. He rolled onto his back in his small but comfortable twin bed and tried to replay his
night. A confused look came over his face. Where was Kelsey? He was pretty sure he didn't
dream her coming back with him but he couldn't find anything in his room to provide proof. No
shoes. No clothes. No note. Perplexed, he oozed out of bed and groggily looked around with
slightly more focus. Defeated, he moaned and tried to hop back into his bed but he was greeted
by a severe stabbing pain on his right side. He lifted his shirt and rubbed his hands across his
midsection only to find a deep bruise that hopefully did not indicate a broken rib or two. Using
more care, he stood on his desk to get into his slightly elevated bed and crawled to the head of it.
With a thump, he buried his face in his pillow and the answer to his question washed over him.
His pillow smelled like girl. Leave it to Brian to finally stop judging someone for one night and
then lose her the next morning. Still face down, he whined to himself.
“Fu-uck. I didn't close the shade.” Returning to his back, he called out. “Tom, what
time is it?” An equally disheveled Tom shouted back through their paper thin walls.
“Time for you to shut the fuck up. It's eight-fucking-forty-five and a brother is trying to
get some sleep. Wait... didn't I see you walking home naked last night? I drove past you on the
road and I got so excited.”
“I had boxers on but it was still way freezing. Come close my shade.”
“Yea, that's not happening. I saw your blond leaving this morning. Color me green with
envy.”
“It's not even nine and she already left?”
“She left at six. Sounds like she rode the Blackout Express all the way to Regretsville.”
Tom was right, what little hope Brian had of seeing where their paths would take them was
crushed. All she needed was a sober look at him. A dull pain rose in his chest and he tried not to
scream in anger. Instead, he threw his stuffed manatee, Eren, off his bed and onto his desk,
causing a loud crash. “Chill out man. It's just some slut. Plenty of sluts out there for you.”
Tom was standing in the doorway now. He could see the frustration on Brian's face, so he closed
his shade with a cute wink. “You almost broke that picture! Be careful.” Tom walked to Brian's
desk and stood up the framed picture of Brian and Nancy at her senior prom. Brian had her in a
headlock and she was playing dead with her tongue dangling out of her mouth.
“Thanks man, I'm gonna rest more.” Tom nodded and closed the door behind him. Brian
snaked to the foot of his bed and hung off the edge as he opened the monitor of his laptop.
“Wait... I never close my laptop.” His voice was barely audible as gears turned feverishly in his
head. As the back-light of his screen clicked on, so did the bulb in his mind. A close-up shot of
Nancy looking as beautiful as ever that he had absentmindedly never changed after the break-up
stared back at him like it had a million times before. She must have seen the background and the
picture and figured they had never broke up, as opposed to realizing that he just had a hard time
letting go. Either way he could see why she wouldn't be pleased. All this detective work was
tiring him out; a little extra rest was definitely in order. He would figure all this out in the
afternoon.
At noon, Tony burst into the room full of energy and excitement. He threw his trench
coat onto the futon, revealing nothing but underwear, and paraded over to a disoriented Brian.
He leaned on the edge of Brian's bed and prodded him until he was fully alert.
“You're welcome.” Tony spoke with a sing-song voice, like out of a Disney movie.
“Why am I welcome now?”
“Because I left the room all for you.”
“Oh, you mean you planned on coming back but the Nanny called you up with different
plans?”
“You're welcome.”
“I just want you to note that I did not, nor will I ever, thank you for that.”
“You sure did say a lot of words just then, considering the only ones I heard were 'thank
you'.” Beaming, Tony skipped over to his chair and performed his Internet routine. “How was
Kelsey? Cowboy and I went to spy on you in the woods but all we found was your jump suit.”
“Didn't happen to get it, did you?”
“Hell no!”
“Perfect. I had a rough night, man.”
“Yea, I bet getting suffocated by those flesh-bombs was excruciating.” Tony leaned back
in his chair and waved his arms and legs frantically in the air while making muffled sounds of
struggling. Brian decided it wasn't worth it to get into the details of his real problem, so he lied.
“I just don't know what broke my rib: the ass-kicking that that punk gave me or the
roughest sex known to man.” Brian winced as he sat up in bed and lifted his t-shirt.
“Shit... that actually looks broken for once. You sure you don't want to share her? I bet
that girl could show me parts of the galaxy I couldn't even dream of.”
“How about, instead of being jealous, you drive me to the hospital after lunch?”
“We gotta take your car; mine has no gas.” It never had gas, which was his plan. If his
car never had gas, people would have to put gas in it or pick another car to borrow.

They pulled up to the emergency room entrance of the hospital and exited Brian's car.
Tony tried to hold Brian's hand but Brian slapped it away and wagged his finger at him. The
sterile feel of the waiting room was almost overwhelming when combined with the gazes of the
elderly couples hooked up to their oxygen tanks. Everything was so intentionally off white that
it came across as forced and awkward. As Brian explained to the incredibly old triage nurse how
his injury happened, Tony spotted a middle-aged man entering nonchalantly through the doors.
One of his hands was crudely covered with gauze and Dixie napkins while the other carried a full
glass of what might have been strawberry milk. His clothing was caked with dirt and oil spots
and his thinning hair matched his thinning number of teeth perfectly. The triage nurse asked
Brian to sit and summoned the next in line to be judged.
“What seems to be the problem today, Roy?”
“I was grinding away on my belt grinder and took a sturdy one-by-two to my table saw.
Damn piece of wood jammed and spit 'er back right at me. Caught me in the chest,” he put down
his glass of milk and lifted his shirt to show her an equally insufficient and blood-soaked
bandage, “and I dropped my hand down right onto the blade. Took two fingers clean off. Got
those soaking in the milk there.” He pointed at the glass and laughed through his smoke-battered
lungs. The nurse was unphased and issued the same sentiment to this man that Brian received
for getting deservedly beat up. Tony whispered to Brian:
“That guy makes you look like a real bitch.” Tony poked Brian in the rib and Brian
flinched.
“Brian Franco? This way please.” A younger, but still over fifty year old nurse smiled
and guided Brian and Tony into the accession room. As Brian gave his information to the nurse,
a second nurse from the room next door called out.
“Come on in, Roy.” The eight-fingered man responded and entered the room next door.
His voice was much louder than it should have been for a grown adult talking about personal
information. They could only hear his half of the conversation.
“Yea, just tear that son-bitch off. Yer right, prolly is stuck on there. Go ahead.” Another
laugh echoed in the waiting room accompanied by the sound of ripping gauze; but no sounds of
struggle of pain.
“What a tough dude...” Tony spoke aloud and the nurse smiled as she entered Brian's
insurance info. Soon after, Tony was asked to wait in the waiting room and Brian was suited
with a gown and sat on a bed. His doctor eventually poked in.
“Hey Brian... Oh! You're going to need to take off your belt and pants too; don't want
that to get in the way of the x-ray. I'm Doctor Vernon, by the way.”
“It's okay, I'm used to being asked to take my pants off before I know their name.” Brian
smiled and the doctor gave a deep belly laugh. His laugh stopped short and he got very serious.
“I'm going to hope that has nothing to do with that rash on your thighs. Would you mind
lying down for me?” Brian did a double-take and saw that the doc wasn't kidding. He hadn't
done anything with Kelsey but sleep, had he? “Are you sexually active?”
“Uh... I guess?” The doctor raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I don't think so, but probably?”
He let out a long sigh as his pen burned holes on Brian's forms.
“Had you been drinking?”
 “Yea, but no drugs or anything!”
“Let's see how far it goes.” He removed Brian's underwear and saw that the rash
continued up to the waistband of his boxers, but was not on his genitals. “It's early now, but,
based on the pattern, it looks to me like a serious case of poison ivy. Were you in the woods at
all?” Brian's face lit up with excitement.
“Yes! Yes I was! And I wasn't wearing pants either.”
“We have a winner. That's good news.” The doc smiled again.” Now let's get that x-ray
you came in for and I'll order you some extra-strength lotion.” A delicate, young nurse with
freckles and short, red hair came to take Brian to radiology.
“Hey, I'm Claire. Follow me.” She wore green scrubs with black clogs and looked to be
about twenty-three years old. Her eyes were almost as green as Nancy's. As they walked, Brian
tried to spark conversation, but his nerves continuously faltered because he failed to think of an
appropriate ice-breaker. She sat him on a bench outside of the x-ray room. “We've got a bit of a
backup today, do you mind waiting for a few for it to clear up?”
“No, hey, that's fine. Nice meeting you!” She nodded, smiled and left.
“Nice try, kid.” Brian jumped; he was so focused on Claire that he didn't notice he was
sitting next to Roy. Roy laughed again. Brian didn't think it was very funny, but he smiled out
of sheer intimidation. “What're you in for, champ?”
“Oh, gotta get a chest x-ray. May have broken a rib in a fight.”
“Didja kick his ass? The other guy in too many pieces for a hospital?” Brian chuckled
and shook his head.
“You know it.”
“Oh, I got something for ya.” Roy leaned to the side and farted directly at Brian with a
large grin. Clearly disgusted, Brian forced a limp smile and did not respond. Roy's booming
laughs stampeded down the halls. Claire rounded the corner with a clip board and immediately
made a sour face. “It was him.” Roy pointed at Brian, who hung his head and refused to even
acknowledge the blatant lie.
“Oh-kay...” She looked nervously at an overwhelmed Brian and took a few steps back.
Roy stood to his feet and, as they walked into the room, Brian heard him say:
“Just kidding, it was me. He likes you. He told me.” Roy winked at Brian as the door
closed behind them and Brian frantically searched for an IV stand to impale himself on. Claire
quickly emerged looking almost as red as Brian was.
“Don't worry about Roy; he's something else.”
“Oh, I noticed.” An awkward pause fell over them and it was obvious that they both
started to panic.
 “You can just head in when he leaves.” Brian nodded and she scurried away. He lost his
chance. Oh well; he already had enough girl drama on his plate to begin with.

A fully clothed Brian walked out of the hospital carrying his lotion in a bag. Tony
hopped around him in circles.
“Break or no break? Man or pussy?”
“Not broken.”
“Aw man! What do you have in the bag then, tampons?”
“Actually no, it's calamine lotion. I got some poison ivy last night.”
“Where? I don't see it.” Brian pointed at his crotch. “Bull shit it's poison ivy! You got
the fucking clap, you raunchy bastard.”
“Shut up.”
“I bet that's why you wanted to come in the first place.”
“You're going to get a face-full of the clap after I rub my nuts all over your pillow when
we get back. Shut the fuck up.”
“I'll just sleep with Jerry then. At least his herpes aren’t enflamed right now.”

Brian sat bottomless on the toilet in the only bathroom in the house with a lock and
graciously applied the lotion to his full-blown rash. This rash was more than it appeared, though.
This rash added an entirely new element to his unfolding drama with Kelsey. Maybe she got up
to go to the bathroom at six, saw she had a similar situation brewing in her danger zone, got
scared, and went straight home. At lunch, Sobchek mentioned there were still four kegs left and
it was only five o'clock on Saturday. Brian needed to find a way to get in touch with her and get
her out to this party. If they limit their drinking and just hang out, maybe something more
serious can come of this bombshell after all. He just needed a way to get in touch with her; he
had never gotten her phone number or even her last name in the short amount of time he knew
her. Brian finished with his applying and flew up the Jerry's room. Without knocking, Brian
barged in and caught an eye (and probably lifetime) full of Jerry's nether regions.
“Hey buddy... can I help you?” Jerry shook his gut at Brian and made no attempt to
conceal himself.
“Wow. Perfect. That was all I wanted, thanks. Wanna come by my room when you
have, say, 65% less skin showing?” Brian closed the door and sat on his futon. Jerry came in
five minutes later, properly dressed. “You have fun last night?”
“You bet your ass. I laid down that fine nurse all night and most of this afternoon.”
 “Hats off. Do you have her friend's number? Kelsey?” Jerry looked confused. “Bo
Peep from last night...”
“Oh, shit! Yea, man. That slut you're tagging?” Brian was starting to not appreciate the
word slut getting throw around; all they had done was kiss and cuddle for the two drunken nights
they spent together. “Yea, I got it. You looking to go for round two?”
“Something like that.” They flipped out their phones and Brian shooed Jerry out of the
room for the call.
“Hello?” She didn't recognize his number. He didn't care. Without saying hello or
introducing himself, Brian decided to get the important information out of the way first.
“It's just poison ivy!” Brian was pretty much shouting.
“Um, what? Who is this?”
“Ha, sorry. It's Brian.” There was a short pause while she processed the information. “I
got some nasty poison ivy from the woods last night; I figured I'd warn you in case you had the
same thing going. How are you?”
“Glad it's just poison ivy! I was so nervous.”
“I have extra lotion if you need some. We're having another party tonight; am I going to
get to see you there?”
“I'll be wearing long pants, that's for sure. My calves look so gross!” Brian's heart began
to race. Things were actually falling into place.
“Cool, I'll set you up with the sober driver.” They said goodbye and Brian tossed his
phone onto the futon and fist-pumped out his glee. Tonight had to go better than last night; there
was more vomit at that party than he had ever seen before. He hopped over to his mirror to
check for any emerging pimples he would need to take care of and spotted his mustache. It was
high time to end its existence and move past its inspirational presence so he could stand on his
own feet. After an incredibly gratifying shower and a clean shave, Brian felt ready to take on the
world. He dawned his lucky orange-slice boxers and tight, yellow manatee t-shirt he had and
wore in kindergarten. Clearly he was wearing his one pair of jeans; he routinely wore them
every day for a minimum of two months before washing them. It was only six o'clock and the
party wouldn't get started until at least nine.

Brian found himself sitting in the back seat of Sobchek’s car, a ’99 Dodge Neon, with
Tony sitting next to him. Sob and Rus were sitting up front jamming out to whatever pop song
happened to be popular for these fifteen minutes. Sob had to stop by his ex girlfriend’s house
which was a ten minute drive away, but Brian and Tony didn’t feel like waiting any longer to get
to this party so they decided to tag along. Tony leaned over and half-shouted over the music to
Brian.
 “How excited are you right now, man? This all sounds a bit too good to be true. I’m
skeptical. Did you drug her? Are you on drugs?”
“Well, aside from the two bottles of Robotussin you and I drank twenty minutes ago? I
don’t think so! Stop doubting this, you’re gonna jinx it by trying to make me prove you wrong.”
The clock struck 10:30pm as Sob finally got out of his ex’s house and the entire crew was
restless. “Yo, Sob! Let’s get there, man. I got a lot riding on this party.”
“Cool your shit, you wanna get there? We’ll get there.” Sob peeled out in the parking lot
and spun his car back onto the road. Brian could feel the force of the acceleration against his
chest, causing even more adrenaline to pump through his body. Cruising quickly along the back
roads towards our house, Sob started to slowly weave back and forth on the road and Rus
bounced up and down in his seat with a big smile on his face. Brian squirmed in his seat as he
tried to retrieve his cell phone from his pocket. He slid the phone open and began texting Kelsey
to find out her whereabouts, but Sob turned hard onto a dirt road and whipped the phone out of
Brian’s hands and onto the floor in front of him. He leaned over in his seat and groped around
on the floor looking for it, but he failed. Undoing his seatbelt, he bent over even farther and put
his head between his legs so he could see the floor.
“Oh Fuck!” Rus shouted at the top of his lungs as the car skidded out of control despite
Sob’s best efforts. Before Brian could sit up correctly, the car thrashed over onto its top, back
onto its wheels, and back onto its roof once again. Brian was thrown from his seat, smashing
hard against the roof of the car with the side of his head and the base of his neck. Everything
turned off.

Brian finally opened his eyes to find himself alone in an upside down car with the only
lighting coming from the flashing caution lights of Sob’s shitty Dodge Neon. The back seat had
detached from its casing and pinned Brian against the roof of the car from the waist down. As
his senses began to come back to him one by one, he could feel warm blood dripping down the
side of his face. All he could hear was the car stereo still blasting The Roots. He looked all
around the car but he couldn’t find a single sign of life. Thoughts began to race through his
blurry mind like the number 3 racecar through the Daytona Speedway. Had they left him there?
How long had he been unconscious? Brian tried to kick the seat off of his body, but, to his
horror, his legs were not responding to his brain as they always had. That is when Brian began
to panic.
“Help! I’m trapped in here! Somebody!” But his cries for help were drowned out by
Sob’s overwhelming stereo system. He kept trying to kick his feet or move his legs, but still
nothing. He used his still functional arms to grab the seat pinning him and he began to rock it
back and forth. He knew what he was doing should be causing pain in his thighs, but he felt
nothing. The seat began to rock steadily until Brian finally shoved it off of him and unto the
back windshield, which cracked slightly from the weight of the seat. Now he could see his legs.
They looked alright, minus some blood pooling through his jeans right where the seat had been
crushing him. Brian used his hands to roll the rest of his body over so that he was lying on his
stomach. The rear driver-side window was shattered; that would prove to be his exit. Using just
his arms, Brian began to army crawl from the roof of the car out the back window. He crashed
hard onto the dirt road and the hundreds of fragments of broken glass just outside the car. The
glass jammed into his forearms in many different places and immediately blood began to seep
from his wounds. After his legs were safely out of the mess of glass and plastic the car had
created, he rolled himself onto his back and the gravity of the situation began to settle in on him.
The music was much quieter outside of the car, so Brian decided to call out for help again to see
what exactly was going on.
“Holy shit, guys! Brian’s over here!” Tony ran from the opposite side of the car with a
half worried, half incredibly elated look on his face. “Brian… Thank God. We all thought you
were fucking dead man.” Rus and Sob appeared from the other side of the car as well; all three
of them looked veritably unscathed. Sob looked the most elated of all. Tony walked over to
Brian and offered him a hand to help him up. Tears began to trickle down Brian’s face.
“I can’t.”
“You’re okay man. Your arms look fucked up but you’re-“
“I CAN’T! I CAN’T MOVE MY FUCKING LEGS.” Brian’s voice echoed down the
empty road and disappeared into the thick woods surrounding them.
“No… don’t fuck with me, man. No no no no.” Sob raised his hands to his face and
walked back to the other side of the car; out of Brian’s sight. Everyone waited in silence for the
ambulance to arrive. Brian was fitted with a neck brace and a back board and carted into the
back of the ambulance