The Afterparty

If friends are people who warn you away from bad ideas, Terry was rich in acquaintances. He held the door open for the last uninvited guest, who stumbled through the threshold and ate concrete as he missed the front step. Terry hesitated before stepping out to help the groaning classmate upright.

“You good man?” Terry asked, reaching down to help. He pulled hard when he felt a hand clasp his own, yanking the prone partygoer to his feet and steadying him as he found his balance.

“‘Preciate it,” the older boy said as he dabbed his lower lip with the back of his hand and found a bit of blood there. “Yeah bro, I’m good.”

Terry looked over the junior, taking in his dishevelment and distant look before replying, “you sure? You got a ride?” Liam — Lincoln? Lindon? Terry couldn’t remember just then — was wobbling where he stood and never seemed too smart in the first place.

“No worries,” the young man answered, adjusting the brim of his Monster cap, “Marcus’ place is a couple houses down and he said I could crash there.”

“Nice, didn’t realize you two were cool.”

“Marcus is cool with everybody.”

It was true. Marcus was just that kind of guy.

The boy he thought might be named Lindon offered a closed fist. “Epic party dude.”

Terry lightly tapped it with his own and waved after his final guest when he turned to depart into the night, relieved this guy was no longer his problem. He turned and headed back inside, taking in the mayhem that awaited him as he approached the family room. Hearing his steps crunch underneath him, he decided first to secure a trash bag and vacuum to handle the Cheetos ground into the floor. One of the chip bowls had gotten knocked over after the fight broke out. No one could be bothered to pick it up or walk around them even after he broke up the fight, and Terry wasn’t going to risk getting stepped on by half the class of 2023 to pick cheese puffs out of the living room carpet.

As he knelt and began grabbing the somewhat intact pieces, he heard a voice that froze his body and kicked his mind into overdrive.

“Terrence Earnest Beauregard, what the hell have you done to this house!?”

He slowly turned at hearing his full name under these most dire of circumstances expecting to see his irate mother, but instead finding a much younger woman. His stepsister descended the stairs looking pleased with herself.

“Madelaine Whatever-Your-Middle-Name-Is Ingraham,” he shot back in a much less faithful impression, “don’t you have anything better to do?” He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, hoping his voice didn’t betray his waning panic. Terry turned back to his task, not wanting to give her the invitation to laugh at his poor decision-making. Like most of the people in his house an hour prior, a lack of invitation did nothing to make her feel unwelcome.

Maddy sauntered into the room, carefully avoiding imitation-cheese landmines as she approached. “Ooh, sick burn soursocks,” she retorted before slapping him on the back. Terry winced his way through the stinging sensation, watching her take a seat on the couch. “Dad and Phoebe haven’t even landed yet. Couple of hours and the place is already…” she gestured broadly to the room, “this. How many people was it?”

“I dunno, a couple dozen.” Terry had stopped trying to keep count after thirty, but he remembered people streaming in an*d out well after that point. “I thought it wouldn’t make any difference, you were supposed to be out tonight anyway.”

“I was supposed to be out, but my date canceled on me. I thought I’d be coming home to a quiet house or you yelling at your game at worst…” she looked at him accusatorily before continuing, “so imagine my surprise to see Monday Night RAW going on in our living room.”

“I didn’t even know we owned a ladder,” Terry said absently. He stood from his crouching position, finally done picking up whole pieces and switching to vacuuming up the remainder. “How long were you here that you couldn’t be bothered to help me get control of the situation?” he yelled over the whirring appliance, his words sounding angrier than he’d intended.

“Who do you think set off the smoke alarm?” she responded coolly. “And threatened to tell Damien’s parole officer he was fighting? And convinced Nate to pack up his weed and head home?”

That explained all the smugness, Terry thought to himself. “You’ve been busy at least. Now if you could just start cleaning, we’d be in good shape.” He clicked off the vacuum, satisfied that he got all visible orange particles.

“First you don’t greet your sister when she comes home from her first semester away,” she began as she reclined along its length and rested the back of her hand against her forehead, “and then you say such hurtful things when she tries to check on you — how cruel.”

Terry rolled his eyes. “I see you enjoyed acting class, drama queen.”

“Aw, you do care!” she replied, sickly sweet sarcasm seeping from her voice.

“Look, either help or leave me alone,” he said, frustration mounting, “I kinda got a lot I’m working on right now.”

Silence. Then a rustling of fabric and fingers tapping plastic.

“You really should be nice to me,” Maddy said easily. “I’ve been known to have a big mouth.”

His throat went dry as he processed the implication. As hard as Terry tried not to give her the satisfaction of seeing him grow yet more desperate, he knew what time it was.

“I’m sorry, okay! Just… don’t tell your dad?” He cursed mentally that the stress had caused repeated cracks in his voice, something he had carefully concealed since middle school, but forged ahead. “You know I’m screwed if they find out, they’ll ground me through the end of high school for this. I have time to fix it — they won’t be back until Sunday night, so that’s all of Saturday and most of Sunday. I can handle this — please just let me handle this?”

“Whoa whoa, slow all the way down,” Maddy replied, sitting back upright. “I don’t have to tell our parents anything. I’ll even help you fix the house up, good as new… under one condition.”

Terry nodded, too nervous to blink.

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing much. We need to hang out tomorrow.”

He released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Suspicion asserted itself before he could enjoy the catharsis of relief. “That’s it? Nothing else?”

She sighed. “Dad thinks I need to spend more time with you. Besides, it’s been a while and I miss all the comforts of home. Including my annoying little brother.”

Terry thought for a moment. “So my mom told him and now he’s holding your college money hostage until you do?”

Maddy chuckled and shook her head. “Sometimes I can’t stand that you’re clever.”

“Then it sounds like we can help each other out here,” he said with a smile, extending his hand.

“We have a deal,” she agreed as she took his hand and shook it once.

Looking to the clock high on the wall, somehow splashed with what Terry could only assume was the Infamous Jamba Juice, the time read 2:14. “I say we work on this until four, go to sleep, and catch lunch tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Aye aye,” she chirped, giving a mocking salute before stacking the nearest Solo cups off the end tables and throwing them away. “What happened with Levi? He ate it pretty bad out there, and he’s way too drunk to walk home.”

Terry stashed away the correct name for the next time they saw each other in the hallway. “He’s fine, said Marcus is letting him sleep it off at his place.”

“That makes sense, Marcus is just that kind of guy.”

“You really did know everyone at the school.”

“Connections that came in handy tonight, if I do say so myself,” she responded, looking proud of herself.

“I don’t think I told you thanks for that,” he said sheepishly.

“You still haven’t,” she laughed.

A moment of easy silence passed between them as they finished picking up party debris.

“Hey,” Terry began timidly.

“Yeah?”

“Did you mean it when you said that you missed me?”

Maddy’s smile was sad, but when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hug was warm.

“Yeah, I did.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he hugged her back.