That evening, we arrived at the next venue, and as the bus halted to stop, the boys cheered loudly. Matt came out to greet us, shaking his head at their antics.

“Alright,” he said. “We ended up getting here really early. The show isn’t until tomorrow night, so I’ll go check us all into a hotel. You all go have fun.”

“TO THE BARS!!!” Alex and Jack shouted simultaneously.

Rian laughed, but shook his head. “You go do that, but I think Zack and I will stay here. We’ve got a Call of Duty tournament scheduled between the two of us.”

Jack groaned, but Alex turned to me excitedly. “Please tell me you’re coming Max! It won’t be fun if it’s just me and Jack!”

“I’m not 21. I can’t drink,” I replied.

“We can sneak you drinks,” he mentioned.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ve never had any alcohol before,” I commented.

“Fine, Ms. Goody Two Shoes,” he stated. “We’ll leave without you.”

He turned his head away, pretending to ignore me while Jack gave me a puppy dog look,

pouty lip and all. I sighed, knowing I was outmatched. “Okay, I’ll go.”

They erupted with cheers again and then hopped up from their chairs to get ready. I followed, heading to my bunk and looking at my clothes. What should I wear to the bar? I grabbed a pair of denim shorts and a colorful tank top, slipped on my Converse, and pulled my hair out of its trademark ponytail. I ultimately decided to leave my glasses on the bus for fear they would get broken. My vision was fuzzy, but I tried to ignore it as I returned to the main part of the bus, where Jack and Alex were waiting.

Jack was wearing skinny jeans and one of his white JAGK shirts, while Alex was wearing black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather jacket, his hair combed and fluffed. His jaw dropped when he saw me, and Jack did a double take, causing me to laugh.

“Max,” Alex said. “I’ve never seen you look so...not nerdy.”

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it. I only dress like someone other than myself for special occasions,” I commented.

“Let’s get going. I can’t wait to see what kind of a party girl you are,” he commented.

We walked out of the bus, but my mind wandered back to the previous night. “There is a party girl in there just dying to get out.” and “I will bring that party girl out someday, I promise.” were the words that echoed in my mind. Was it possible he really did remember? I shook the thoughts away and focused on the night at hand. The sky was slowly morphing from purple to dark blue, tiny white flecks illuminating the sky. A slight breeze wafted through the trees, causing me to shiver, so Alex and Jack both placed their arms around me in an attempt to help.

We made our way downtown and stopped at a corner bar, a neon sign shining the word “Nemo’s” down at us. I reluctantly followed the boys inside, and was immediately hit with the sound of clashing billiard balls on the pool table. I was led up to the counter, where we were greeted by a burly man in a black v-neck t-shirt.

“What can I get you?” he asked, wiping off the counter with a rag and peering at us.

“3 White Russians and 3 shots of Jack,” Alex replied.

The bartender nodded and turned around to fix the drinks. I picked at my fingernails nervously, curious as what exactly a White Russian was. I tried to remember what I had read in books or seen in movies that could possibly help me, but I drew a blank and watched as 6 drinks were set in front of us. My eyes widened as Jack and Alex picked up their shots of Jack Daniels and knocking them back like it was nothing.

“C’mon, Max,” Alex said. “Drink your shot.”

I picked up the glass and closed my eyes before throwing my head back and drinking it. The burning liquid that slithered its way down my throat was bitter, and tasted like shit. Once it was gone, I placed the glass back on the bar and coughed, trying to keep from throwing up all that I had ingested. Alex gestured to my other glass, and I sipped it hesitantly, surprised to find it wasn’t completely horrible. It was still a bit bitter, like coffee with just enough creamer in it.

Once I was finished with that, I could feel my whole body get shakier and my vision got blurrier than it already was. Alex ordered me a Cosmopolitan this time, and I quietly sang along to the songs playing on the jukebox. I Love Rock ‘N Roll by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts and Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard played, and the alcohol made me want to dance, but I tried to find the urge as much I could.

Soon, the glasses stacked up by the three of us, most of them ending being mine. I was barely aware that Jack and Alex were giggling at my drunken state and that my singing eventually got much louder. I could almost feel the brain cells in my head perishing as I drank, and I knew my head would be killing me in the morning. At one point, I remember thinking: Why am I doing this? Alex’s name appeared in my mind, answering my question, before I finally passed out.

Notes

DUN DUN DUN!!!!