Monkey Business

russ blasts beer

Thursday, November 6, 8:40 p.m.

I hope Kimmy’s not here. I hand my beer-bash ticket to the student guarding the door, and peruse the makeshift bar. Forty students are milling around, plastic cups in hand. There’s something odd about drinking beer under the glaring halogen lights of a school cafeteria.

I pour myself a cup and make my way over to an already hammered Nick.

“Russ, dude,” he says to me. “What took you so long? You only have twenty more minutes to get plastered.”

I look around the room for Kimmy, and I feel both relief and disappointment at her absence. I’ve been doing my best to avoid her since the spin-the-bottle fiasco. Seeing her reminds me of what a jackass I am. Ignoring her reminds me of what a jackass I am.

What should I do? Tell Sharon? Tell her I met someone else? Tell her I hooked up with someone else but it doesn’t mean anything? Either way, she’ll never speak to me again. Maybe I should talk to Kimmy. Tell her it was a mistake, a one-time blunder.

Why can’t I get the taste of her mouth out of my head?

At least I didn’t sleep with her. We didn’t even take off our clothes. We just kissed. Don’t I get credit for that? I feel a small pimple under my chin and play with it.

Nick empties his cup and burps. “Kimmy was just looking for you, but she took off.”

Must be obvious that I’m thinking about her, if even the drunk guy can tell.