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QMeetsWorld
QMeetsWorld
Member
Posts : 400
Join date : 2019-02-27
Age : 27

"act your age" Empty "act your age"

Tue May 28, 2019 1:08 am



August 23rd, 2019

With everything that had happened, Lachlan did not want to celebrate his birthday. He was eternally grateful when Oliver had shown up alone his birthday with a pizza and a six pack of Oberon. They had played video games almost wordless, and when Oliver would try and get him to talk about what had happened, Lachlan would shoot him down quickly, sometimes literally in their games.

Lachlan was blissfully ignorant that his friends were not going to let that go. So, on Friday, when him and Oliver were just expecting another simple night in, he jumped when he heard a knock on the door. Before either of them could get up, the bluetooth surround sound speaker system started blaring Pursuit of Happiness by Kid Cudi, the party track of choice of Greg Lawrence. Lachlan looked over at Oliver and groaned, his head falling back onto the La-Z-Boy.

“I’ll take care of them.” Oliver said. He’d already mentioned the group chat that they would not be going out that night, but here the guys were anyway. Oliver moved to the door. As soon as he opened the door, he realized that even a mile-long brick wall wouldn’t have stopped them. The whole group was pushing right past him, setting armfuls of supplies on the kitchen island. The last one through the door was Marley Jones, Steve Lawrence’s fiancee. She had a large styrofoam cup in her hand and was wearing a mesh neon pink crop top and light jeans.

“It’s really good that someone answered. They were considering breaking down the door once Chad realized that the spare key was gone.” Marley said and then moved into the room. Oliver was grateful that she hadn’t asked for an explanation for that. He really didn’t want to unpack all that tonight, but Marley was usually pretty good at leaving well enough alone.

After setting down his load, Leighton Barnes pushed his way around Lachlan’s La-Z-Boy. He grabbed the lever on the side and pushed the ottoman down. He grabbed Lachlan’s arms and pulled him out of the chair. “One does not simply sit down during Pursuit of Happiness.” Leighton pulled Lachlan to the kitchen. On the kitchen counter, shots and drinks were already being poured. Chad and Stu were unfolding the long table and setting up beer pong. Greg was grabbing quarters out of his pocket to play Quarters.

“Hey guys. I told you I’m not really feeling like going out tonight. Y’all go have fun.” Lachlan said. Leighton put his arm tighter around Lachlan’s shoulder. “Who are you and what have you done with Lachlan Reid?” Lachlan laughed along, but really more than anything he wanted them gone. He had barely wanted Oliver here but the son of Letus wouldn’t take no for answer. He really hoped that the rest of his friends wouldn’t be the same way. Lachlan looked to Oliver for support, but his arm was already interlocked with Steve’s, both of them racing to down their drinks and unhook their arms first. Lachlan needed to be prepared to lose.

“Fine, fine. I’ll hang out until y’all leave, but I am not going to the party. Anyway, I have nothing to wear.” Lachlan lied. The neon party was a New Rome staple, playing second fiddle only to the toga party (for the irony). In his closet he could find half a dozen brightly colored outfits, and even if he didn’t have those he could go for the simple white shirt with some paint on it, or even just a white shirt. He looked over the room and they were clearly not buying it.

“Dude, you’re getting diced.” Greg said. Every hand in the room instantly shot up. ‘Getting diced’ was something that the group had developed a couple years earlier for when a group member was being a punk at a pregame. One member of the group suggests that a member ‘gets diced’ and the rest of the group got to vote on whether or not they do. If greater than or equal to half the group votes yes, the dicer rolls two dice. The first dice is how many shots the person has to take and the second is how many minutes they have.

As the hands shot up, Lachlan groaned. Greg rolled two dice from the cupboard, a 5 and a 3: 5 shots in 3 minutes. Steve unstacked 5 shot glasses and Oliver poured tequila into each of them. “Uppers only.”

So in less than 5 minutes, Lachlan was 5 shots in and was playing beer pong with Oliver against Steve and Marley. The overhead lights were off and the strip of LED lights that ran along where the walls met the ceiling were rapidly flashing different colors along with the loud music playing. With every shot that Marley and Steve sunk, Lachlan could feel his problems leaving his head and the alcohol taking more of a hold. Only once did Lachlan think that this maybe wasn’t the best idea, and for a split second considered just going to bed, but then Mr. Brightside by The Killers was playing. The group was jumping up and down screaming their song together and Lachlan couldn’t think about anything that wasn’t alcohol and his best mates. Screw red headed girls and drama. He didn’t need anyone but these guys right here.

Lachlan was playing quarters around the island when someone suggested that they leave for the party. Most everyone was in on the game, except for Leighton who was ‘singing karaoke’ to Dirty Little Secret. In his head, at least, he was singing karaoke. In actuality, he was holding the tv remote and screaming as loud as he could along to the All-American Rejects song. Lachlan and Oliver did a quick change, quickly finding stuff to wear. Lachlan was a little impressed when Oliver emerged in a cut off neon yellow hoodie that just said dad in little black font right above the cut off and light jeans. Did he have clothes for every occasion here at this point? Lachlan was wearing a bright green shirt under a black bomber jacket with white shorts.

Then, they were leaving the house. The exact thing that Lachlan said he would not be doing that night. They grabbed Mark has he tried to jump into the pool fully clothed and made a ruckus walking through the New Rome streets, carrying 44 oz Styrofoam cups full of mixed drinks or beer. The party was being held at a house on the other side of Lachlan’s subdivision by twin legacies of Bacchus and Cupid whose parents let them throw parties in their huge house.

By the time that the group there, the party was fully raging and Lachlan was absolutely plastered. Everything was a blur of bright colors and loud noises, just how he liked it. Oliver leaned over and said, “Don’t do anything stupid, alright?” But Lachlan wasn’t listening. He was feeding off the energy and made his way to the dance floor.

Lachlan couldn’t tell how long he’d been on the dance floor but he did know how many girls that he’d danced with: 7. The girl in front of him right now had raven hair and pristine eyebrows. She was wearing lipstick so bright pink that he glowed under the black lights. For some reason, Lachlan felt like he knew her. Maybe they’d done this at a party before. I Don’t Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber was playing when she wrapped her arms around Lachlan’s neck and started to kissing Lachlan. When her dark haired friend came up ranting about how their other friend had vomited all over Asher Gallagher and pulled her away, a party remix of Jessie’s Girl was playing. Who knows how many songs had been between that. Lachlan stumbled his way off the dance floor to the keg. Marley was standing there talking to Steve and Oliver. She looked at Lachlan.

“You look like a can of pink spray paint exploded in your face.” She laughed. Lachlan caught sight of himself in a mirror. There was bright pink surrounding his lips and down his neck. Lachlan looked back and laughed, shrugging, “Lachlan Reid is back on his game.” He said, fist bumping a drunk Steve. Oliver was looking him over with a concerned face, but Lachlan ignored him. He wasn’t going to let Oliver’s good morals get him down tonight. Lachlan jumped up onto the table next to the keg and screamed over the party, “Come on, let’s rage!” And did two shots as the party screamed and everyone started dancing again. The dark haired girl from before jumped up on the table and they were dancing against each other. Lachlan could feel Oliver rolling his eyes and walking away.

Slowly, his friends started to leave, until it was just him, Leighton, and Oliver. When Oliver took on the dreaded duty of getting a completely gone Leighton home, Lachlan was left walking back to his place. He kept his head down as he stumbled into the cul de sac. He didn’t need to look at any of the houses right now. He kept his head down all the way to the door of his place, which he struggled to unlock, but finally managed to.

Lachlan didn’t bother turning the lights on. The place was an absolute disaster and he didn’t bother to care about that either. He went to the bathroom and changed into a pair of athletic shorts and then made his way slowly up the spiral stairs to his bed. Lachlan fell into the bed and plugged his dead cell phone in. When it started back up, he started a smooth jazz playlist on Spotify. He grabbed the stuffed little stress football off the shelf and started to throw it up in the air, hoping the room would stop spinning enough for him to sleep.

The son of Fama threw the football up and watched as it crashed onto the top shelf of the slanted shelving on the sides of his bed. He groaned and pushed himself up to stand on the bed and grab the football. As he reached for it, Lachlan felt his hand hit a picture frame. He grabbed it and fell back onto the bed, the room still moving.

Lachlan dusted the picture off. It was a picture of him and Caroline at the beach mid-May 2018. It was a nice day and they decided they’d driven his Jeep down to Monterey. His head was resting on top of hers as she leaned back into him in a white bikini top and her knock off Ray Bans. They were both smiling wide, Lachlan squinting the sun out of his eyes. In that moment, Lachlan felt dozens of emotions hit him like dozens of bricks had been dropped onto his chest. He remembered this day, eating ice cream as the sun went down, and then driving back to his place. He remembered laying on this bed, her head on his chest, blonde hair splayed out around her. She laced her fingers in his and squeezed a little bit. Her nailpolish was this dark red that was barely distinguishable from black in the faint moonlight that shone in through the partially opened window. She left on her quest a little more than 3 weeks later without him saying goodbye.

Lachlan swallowed hard and held back any tears trying to escape. He didn’t cry. The last 14 and a half months played through his head and he could feel regret welling up inside of him.

“I miss you, Caroline Hanson.” He whispered. “Why didn’t you come back.” Lachlan shoved the frame back to the back of a shelf, face down, and flipped away from it onto his side. He felt like a hand was squeezing his heart in his chest, but the room had stopped spinning enough for him to doze to sleep.

When Lachlan woke up the next day at 2 pm, he couldn’t remember anything after saving Mark from his pool. He had a killer headache and he was being blinded by sunlight. He sat up and grabbed his phone and walked down to the bathroom. Part of him wondered if he even made it to the party when he looked in the mirror, the neon pink on his face and neck telling him he definitely had. Lachlan texted Oliver. Who am I wearing? Oliver texted back almost instantly. Hell if I know. Lachlan Reid was back.

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