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badatpseudonyms · 6 years ago

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Country Music and Tequila

Some nights you just make poor choices. Most nights I make poor choices, when tequila is involved. Whether you want it or not l, the inevitable will find a way to catch up with you, especially when aided by alcohol. This is a story about a night where, by the grace of satan himself, I found myself headed to a friends house with a flannel and boots in my passengers seat. I sat in traffic with knots in my stomach thinking of all the times our plans had fallen through. Maybe that was for the best. But tonight was a perfect storm and everything came together, against our better judgement. A and I always had a habit of harmless flirting, but harmless flirting is all fun and games until it isn’t. Over the year and some change that we’d known each other we had experienced a wide range of emotions toward one another. I’d liked him and from what I can gather, his primary feelings toward me were lust and a little bit of guilt. In recent weeks we had been more verbally expressive of our flirtatious feelings but action was not an option so for the most part he avoided me and I pretended I didn’t notice or care. On this particular evening when I arrived at his house, I realized I had never been inside, and there were many reasons for this:

1) Due to the nature of how we met, I was just more or less a dirty little secret he had rather than a friend.

2) I’m assuming, because of reason one, I’d never met any of his family.

3) He lacked the ability to make a clean break from an ex girlfriend who hated me.

She was younger and very possessive and to her, any female friend was a threat. Considering the history of our friendship, that was fair in my case. But she didn’t know that. She would rather he be miserable and alone than have any contact with the women in his life and sometimes it felt like I was public enemy number one. The humor in it was that she had no idea who I was. We had even met face to face at my place of work and she failed to identify me as A’s forbidden friend. Regardless of her cluelessness, meeting her still gave me overwhelming anxiety. Lord know what she would have said or done if she’d known who I was.

For all the reasons listed above and maybe some more, the idea of entering A’s house had my stomach flipping. It felt like a step in the wrong direction. Maybe I was ok with not being so close to his life. It was too late now, as the next thing I knew I was moving toward the door and opening it into a room with a hand full of people and some country music playing. He had instructed me to just come in when I arrived and that was something I simply wasn’t comfortable with in any situation, so I was relieved when one of the first things I saw was his smiling face. As out of my element as I was, it made me feel better knowing that he was happy to see me. He hugged me hello and looked me up and down. It was then I remembered I had not changed since leaving work so I was still dressed head to toe in black and white stripes and chunky boots. He lent me his bathroom to change into something more appropriate for the bar we were planning on heading to and as I put on my new outfit I felt just a little more comfortable. My biggest worry at the moment was making friends with the group of people I’d never met in the kitchen. When I was finished I was offered shots and graciously declined, as I didn’t want my first impression on these people to be one of me spitting up a vodka shot onto the kitchen counter. It was surreal being in the house because the only time I’d seen it before now had been in Snapchat’s over the year we’d known each other.

Once everyone had had their fill of pregame shots we piled into some cars and were off to the bar. I felt a little better once we were on the way but the bar we were headed to was somewhere I’d never been. Country music and mechanical bull riding aren’t generally in my wheelhouse of likes or enjoyable activities.

We arrived and went inside. Once we were seated a bucket of beers was placed before us on the table, enter B. B is A’s brother and as previously specified, a family member I’d never met. I was introduced as a friend that A met through his time around the local ice rink and that was that. B took a friendly liking to me after that and made sure I was never without a drink in my hand, which I am eternally grateful for. After the first round a group of B’s friends showed up, a group nobody else knew. They joined in on the drinks but didn’t do much talking with anyone but B. A handful of them would look some of the girls up and down but I didn’t worry too much. A and I eventually split from the group, we watched some bull riding and did some bull riding ourselves. We ate snacks. We ran into people he knew. And eventually we ended up taking a shot or two. After more margaritas than I can remember and a shot B slipped another drink in my hand, at which point A made the executive decision that I was cut off. I didn’t object. For the next little while I danced with some girls I’d never met and he talked to an acquaintance from school. At some point it came to our attention that the rest of our group wasn’t even at the bar anymore so he called an Uber and we rode back to his place where there was a decent sized party starting.

It was simultaneously as we walked through the front door that A received something along the lines of his 20th call of the night from his ex. It came to my attention that she had been calling all night. He didn’t seem too shaken so I didn’t let myself dwell on it.

The inside of the house was filled with twice the number of people we had started the night with and things were getting fun. Drinking, cocaine, and a hot tub were all contributing to the ultimate party atmosphere that seemed to encapsulate all of us. The initial group we went to the bar with, the guys who showed up later, and a handful of people that were new to me stood in the living room and kitchen, spilling out the back door. One of the late arrivals at the bar was staring me down from across the room but as drunk as I was, I simply didn’t care. I partook in the party favors as much as I felt comfortable and before I knew it, it was well after 1 AM. I stood still in the middle of the living room to try to recall all the steps that had brought me to that point and find the time I had seemingly lost. At that moment I became very aware that someone was in my personal space bubble. I zoned back into reality to realize it was the guy who had been staring at me when we first arrived back at the house. Without missing a beat he very directly and abruptly said “Yo. You’re gorgeous. Can I eat you out?” What the hell? Is this real life? I very uncomfortably gave him a faint “No” as a reply. “Why not? You’re hot. You should let me.” My body tensed up harder and faster than it ever had before. I needed him to get the FUCK away from me but I was too afraid of confrontation to make that known to anyone outside of my head.

After what felt like an eternity of him making unbroken eye contact with me, I felt a hand around my waist. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned, and to my relief, it was A. My knight in worn out flannel. Hand on my hip and a no messing around look on his face, a very clear message was sent. “This your girl?” the strange pushy man asked. A did nothing but give a firm nod and my pursuer backed off. He continued to look at me like a piece of meat as he backed away slowly but eventually left me alone. I had never been more thankful for A in my life. I don’t think I ever got a chance to express my gratitude verbally before shit hit the fan.

Without warning, A dashed out the front door. “What the fuck? Where is he going in such a hurry, it’s 2 AM?” I thought to myself. B quickly cleared up my confusion. Since he wasn’t answering her calls, A’s ex took it upon herself to crash the party and was right outside. B gave me his sweatshirt and slipped me into the back yard where I ducked down. I found myself shaking from a combination of the October cold, being splashed with hot tub water by wanna be frat boys, and the onset of a panic attack. At some point, B must have realized I was more nervous than the situation called for and wanted answers. He asked me what was going on and if I was ok. I explained to him why A’s ex had every reason to hate me and why I feared her and why A feared her knowing I was there.

B usually isn’t the one to turn to for emotional comfort but in that moment he knew exactly what to do. Their home had been added to a few years prior and due to this there was a whole section of the house that hid behind a padlocked door in the last room of the hallway. Behind it was two bedrooms, a bathroom, and an entire man cave. It was like walking through a secret passageway. I curled up in one of the beds and this is where I rode out the majority of my panic attack. Through the all too thin walls I could hear some screaming and sounds of an altercation, but I had no way of knowing if this was the party or A and his ex having a verbal joust.

Time moved slowly and all too quickly at the same time. 2 gave way to 3, and shortly after 3 I could hear someone opening the padlocked door. I feared that she knew I was here. As footsteps approached the door to the room I was in, my stomach sank and I felt sick. I believe now that I may have just been too Intoxicated for my own good and those fears were irrational, but I was scared none the less. My fears immediately dissipated when I saw A walk through the door, frazzled but alone. He was covered head to toe in something sticky and faintly red. She had thrown his own concoction of rockstar energy drink and vodka on him in her fit of rage.

He seemed just as relieved to be in that room as I did because after that all we did was talk until we were both calm enough to go to bed. I asked if he wanted to stay in the room with me because his own bed was covered in sugary drink and alcohol. He took me up on my offer. He made himself comfortable, slipping off his pants and shirt. It was his own house, who as I to tell him he couldn’t sleep comfortably. I laid next to him in my leggings and his brothers sweatshirt. At some point he turned on his side and put his hand around my waist. I hadn’t noticed earlier but I definitely noticed then the sexual charge behind his touch. He whispered something in my ear. He been thinking about something I said recently. Something flirty and insignificant but something that was enough to make both of us feel an urge to act. I was so charged with emotions and alcohol and sexual energy that I turned my self completely around and kissed him. I was feeling a need to be closer to him, one that a kiss wasn’t satisfying. I think at that point we both knew there was no stopping and we stripped off the remainder of the clothes we had on and had sex there in what I had been calling my fortress. All the tension in my body from the rest of the night vanished and I felt safe. I felt taken care of. I felt like I was impervious to consequences.

The rest of that sequence is a blue but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that at very least, the night had our version of a happy ending. Even aside from sexual chemistry, A was important to me so the whole experience only brought us closer together in my opinion. I knew I could always count on him when I really truly needed it.

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