The Time Of Our Lives

Today was the day.

The party of all parties.

The night of all nights.

The last day before sweet college graduation baby!

Today was that day.

I had been planning, been looking forward to attending this event since...since…

Hell! Since the beginning of the school year! 

Yeah, that’s how big this thing is. Mark Rosby’s parties are legit. Like, he’s freaking famous around here. His parties are known by everyone, literally! Even though he’s probably in his thirties, he's been doing these epic extravaganzas for all the almost-graduates before their graduation for seven years straight. And let me tell you, not a single person has left a bad review. I had been dreaming of being the star of the show, of letting loose and becoming the life of the party! I was going to be remembered for the most grand party-goer the school had ever seen!

But here I am now, an empty drink in my hand, standing alone, watching my best friend take the initial spotlight.

I messed up, yeah, I know.

Big time.

***

A few hours earlier

***

“Come ON! You HAVE to go! It’s the talk of the year, the talk of the century! Something we will NEVER forget till the end of our days, a memory to tell our future FAMILY'S! Don’t you understand how important it is for you to be there?” My rant has been going on for weeks now and she still hasn’t agreed to come. My best friend, the one person I want to share this experience with. Not my girlfriend, not my brother, but with her. The person who had been there for me and vice versa since childhood. And this party would mark the day we become adults. REAL adults, the END of college!

“Miles, I already told you, I can’t,” she says with a look I don’t quite understand. We’re like night and day, her and I. She’s, well, a nerd. I mean, she prefers the term 'intellectual bad ass’ which makes her even more of a nerd to be honest...Don’t tell her I said that.

Amelia is kind of a loner, with the exception of me. I have a crowd of people whereas she only has a few acquaintances. It’s hard for her to fit in, but it’s not like she makes it easy either. She shy's away from social interaction any chance she gets.

She pushes up her plain white glasses up her nose, a sign of frustration.

“Look,” I begin, trying one last time to convince her. My shoulders slump. “I won’t go without you. I really want to be with you tonight. It’s almost graduation and this is special, for the both of us. We began school together, so I think we should end it that way too.” I give her a half-hearted, but deflated smile and she falters.  

“UGH! Fine! But I will never go to a party again and...and if it gets too crazy-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We leave,” I can’t contain my excitement. She was actually going to come, she was actually going to put herself in a crowd of people and finally live her life!

I pull her into an embrace and she giggles.

“OK, OK, don’t suffocate me. I’m like, way smaller than you ya know,” she pushes herself away, centering her glasses that got knocked askew in my fit of elated emotion.

“Tonight’s going to be lit, trust me. It’ll be great, just wait.”

“Lit? Seriously? You sound like my sixth grade brother,” Amelia exclaims, falling into more giggles. I laugh too.

“I’ll pick you up at seven. Maybe we can pull an all-nighter! Perhaps there’ll be some red bull there…,” I get lost in my train of thought as I try to plan the whole night away.

“Whoa there buddy, hold your horses,” (yeah she says phrases like that-she learned them from her grandfather) “You’re asking too much of me. I have to be back by twelve. Delio?” (Annnnnnd delio too)

“Aw, such a bore. But alright,” I’m just happy she agreed to come at all.

***

7:10

***

I pulled up into Amelia’s driveway, all jacked up on mountain dew for the hours to come.

I’m practically bouncing in my seat by the time she comes to the car. I beam at her but she doesn’t return the feeling. 

“What’s wrong?,” I ask, suddenly worried she changed her mind.

“Nothing, just nervous.” She gives me a half-hearted smile back. 

I turn on the engine and to the best day of our lives we go.

***

7:30

***

The raging music can be heard a mile down the road. 

I’m already pumped and we aren’t even there yet!

This was going to be epic.

Amelia seems tense as ever. I place a hand on her shoulder and she finches.

“Hey, it’s gonna be cool, OK. I’ll be with you the whole time, nothing to worry about,” I pass her a reassuring glance.

“I hope you’re right,” she sighs. 

I pull the car into the driveway, finding it hard to find a place to park. When I finally do, we make our way to the backyard where I greet a few of my friends before leading the way deeper into the party.

Amelia is practically trembling at all the craze. I pity her, she’s not used to any of this, hasn’t been to things like this before. She’s stuck in a bubble that I can’t entirely pop. Well, time to try.

I grab her hand and race to the center of the crowd, doing my best (worst) dance moves to try and get Amelia to loosen up a bit. She’s stock still, looking frantically around as if a Dementor was going to come up and suck her soul at any second. She starts to retreat. I reach forward.

“No, I...I can’t do this. I thought-,” she stumbles into somebody and their drink gets all over her clothes. Amelia looks just about to burst into tears.

“I...I’m going to get some napkins.” She rushes away, as quick as the wind.

I feel so guilty now. I shouldn’t have pressured her, I shouldn’t have forced her to come here and be uncomfortable on this very important night. Ah, I’m such an idiot, a complete asshole! Why do I do this? Take control and only do what I want and what I think is the most fun. Damn, I should go check on her.

I rub the back of my neck with my hand as I make my way to the table of punch and probably a bowl of something with alcohol in it. I find her at the end of the table, grabbing napkins by the handful to get the foul smelling concoction off of her.

“Doesn’t that go against all your talk about environmental protection and waste?” I try to start off funny, to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work and she refuses to respond. A stray tear drops down her cheek.

Oh, what have I done?

“Do you need help?”

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she says, just between a whimper and a whisper.

“What? No! You have nothing to be sorry about!” 

“Oh, but I do. I’ve already ruined it for you. I know how important this party was to you and I-,” a sob breaks out of her quivering mouth. I hug her and when she seems to finally calm down, I pull away.

“Look at me Amelia. I don’t care about the party, I care about us and how we spend it having a good time. If you want to leave, I’ll go with you. It was my fault anyway. I chose something that I wanted to do and didn’t bother to ask what you would have rather done.”

She looks at her feet, as if in deep thought. Then her head shakes, slowly at first and then vigorously. 

“No! I won’t ruin this! I’ll be fine. Let’s go and…,” she seems unsure of what to say. “Party? Yay…”

I laugh at her awkwardness and grab a red cup. Before I can fill it, Amelia takes it from me, pulling out a flask from her fanny pack. 

I gasp. There is no way this is the Amelia I know.

She dumps a good half of the content into the cup and drinks out of it. She shakes her head like it’s strong.

“Let’s go,” she says with a wink.

I still can’t believe it, I’m so shocked my mouth is stuck in a permanent ‘o’. 

“Alright! Let the party begin!,” I scream. A bunch of ‘woot woots’ were howled all around me.

I chase after Amelia.

***

10:05

***

I don’t know how it happened. 

She was beside me, and then she wasn’t.

She seemed pretty crazy and had already drank all of her flask filled with whatever was in there. I’m starting to think it was alcohol because she wasn’t herself. She was...so….exuberant...wild.

Where the hell is she? 

I begin to panic.

I look all around, pushing through people and getting angry at the tipsy guy in the corner in my way. 

Where could she be?

My mind is racing. Amelia is like a sister to me, I can’t believe I lost her.

When I feel like I’m going to collapse and have a heart-attack I hear Mark Rosby’s booming voice.

“Looks like we have our dancer everybody! Welcome to the stage, AMELIA BLAIRE!!!”

Oh...no.

I race forward, towards the stage to see Amelia’s bouncing body doing...I don’t even know. It’s a bunch of ridiculous moves that she has probably just made up. In spite of the...horribleness of it all, people are cheering her on, enjoying the free-spirit. 

Soon, she became the queen. The influencer of all party-goers. She was...becoming the star of the show. She was going to be in the Hall of Fame for the life of the party and I was going to go into it as the shittiest loser. 

 But here I am now, an empty drink in my hand, standing alone, watching my best friend take the initial spotlight.

I messed up, yeah, I know.

Big time.

I have this feeling, this feeling of jealousy that I can’t seem to shake. Is this how she feels when I leave her for a sec to talk to the group that called me over? How she feels when everyone dismisses her and welcomes me? 

My girlfriend, Maggie, even walks up the stage to start dancing with her.

And Maggie pretty much told me she hates her because I spend more time with Amelia than her. 

Just terrific. The night where I make everyone remember who I am is a distant dream.

No, my best friend was going to be the acknowledged one.

Next thing I know, I see Amelia fighting Mark for the microphone.

Oh shit.

She’s gone crazy, mad, trying to rip it out of his hands. When she finally does she looks out into the crowd and away from an angry Mark. She wipes her sweaty hair off her forehead, pushes her glasses up her nose, and speaks.

“Miles? Miles Florin?,” she calls.

“Amelia!,” I shout. It takes her a second, but she finally spots me and lights up. She waves me forward with her hand and the crowd parts. I’m stunned, but now that eyes are trained on me I feel like I have to move. I point to my chest anyway and she mouths, “who else?”. I grin and run up on the stage.

The almost-graduates erupt into pumped screams and begin to chant my name.

“Miles, Miles, Miles!”

This is my time.

I look at her.

"Hey, umm...what was in that flask?" I have to ask.

"Uh duh. Just Red Bull. This stuff it great, it makes me so hype. "

I chuckle, of course it was. I should have known. She'll probably never drink alcohol, though Red Bull is perfectly fine with me.

I grab Amelia’s hand.

And we dance the night away, the stars of the show, the life of the party.

We would go down as the most grand party-goers the school had ever seen.

We.

That sounds better.