High school was a bitch. Gwen was flipping through her yearbook, curled up on her couch, making a warm spot for herself. She didn't really know why she was looking through it. It's not like high school had ever been what she wanted it to be. But for some reason she had found herself digging through all the crap under her bed and stumbled upon a shoebox filled with what little remained of her high school memories.
She found the art club spread, where she could see her little blue head of hair and bangs shoved to the back of the group photo, grinning and holding up a paintbrush with all the other dorks in the club. She smiled, reminiscing on Thursday afternoons spent creating and encouraging other students to keep doing what they were into. Her attention however, was caught on the list of names at the bottom of the group picture, someone not pictured.
Gwen and Duncan had always had a sweet relationship, regardless of his rough demeanor. But she couldn't figure out why he wasn't in this picture. If she went deep enough into her memories, she could recall Duncan hanging out by the bleachers on picture day, when their senior year was finally coming to a bittersweet end. She figured he had probably skipped, just as he had done for most of that year, and left it at that.
Gwen shut the book and got herself up off her couch, slipping into her tiny kitchen to make herself a coffee. It was a warm summer day, but the air conditioning in her apartment kept her cool. Her cat Bruiser was waiting for her inside, chilling his body on the tile floor by his bowl of water.
Lazy bum.
Seemed like a nice day to go out, maybe get her hair dyed, and maybe go thrifting for some cute tank tops. She had a nice long break for the summer. Gwen had just finished up graduating with her bachelors in art education and had gotten hired fairly quickly by some local middle school. The first year had been great, and she smiled at herself, thinking about how she ended up back in school.
Bruiser followed Gwen out into the living room, where she proceeded to curl into her ball again, flipping on the TV to watch some RuPaul's Drag Race, maybe catch some cartoons on later.
It was still early, but she had had a long night of drinking heavily and was still nursing what little remained of her hangover.
Gwen woke up about 3 hours later, realizing she had dozed off in the middle of an episode and now there was some infomercial trying to sell her a useless workout tool. The yearbook she had left on the corner of the table was now flat on the ground.
"Bruiser!" She huffed, rolling her eyes, lifting the book from a corner. The last two pages had all the signatures from friends and staff.
The 24 year old had since changed her look, she kept her hair short, with the bangs, but had to keep it black for school. Now that it was summer there was no need to go easy on the makeup, so her dark eyeliner and mascara were back to play.
Gwen picked up the book for closer inspection, reading over heartfelt goodbyes from old friends, and the inky scratched up pen marks at the bottom left corner caught her eye,
"Anything you need, you got it.
Stay hot, stay white as fuck, + stay cool forever please.
P.S. give me a call - Duncan"
His chicken scratch was always a hot topic of conversation for the two, and his crude tone was giving her such intense flashbacks of the two freaks sucking face next to the porta-potties by the dumpster.
Gwen was overcome with so much emotion and nostalgia that she actually did just that.
And then realized that she was calling up an old fling and that oh my god, this was going to sound like a total booty call! Immediately she hung up, grabbed her purse, car keys and headed out the door.
It wasn't until later that night after hitting up her friends, Persia and Lacey, that Gwen allowed herself to completely forget about her dumb slip-up that morning. The three friends were going out into town, ready to bar hop and see who they could come home with and even though Gwen was never really into that sort of stuff, she was excited.
Lacey and Persia were a couple of grown up punks, plenty of tattoos and piercings, and Gwen looked like a damn angel in comparison. The girls piled on the black lipstick and pulled on their fishnet tights, so when they hit up their first bar of the night, they were sure to get ogled at.
Persia hopped onto a stool at the bar, ordering a round of PBRs for the group, "So what are you gonna do all summer, Gwenny?"
Gwen smirked and popped open her bottle on the counter, taking a fresh gulp and looking over to the pool tables, "Hustle, masturbate, and get as fucked up as possible before I have to start working on lesson plans for next year."
Lacey snorted, "Cheers to that!" and the three friends clinked their bottles together before grabbing the cup full of darts and heading over to a corner booth near the dart board.
The night went on, not dragging, but instead speeding by faster than usual, the three blind mice moving from bar to bar. According to Persia, ladies nights were a blessing, and if you didn't have a drink in your hand, what the fuck were you even doing out?
Eventually Lacey got talked up by some dude in a snapback, not usually her type, but he was so handsome and charming. His name was Geoff, and his buddies ended up tagging along on the bar hopping mission. By the 5th bar the girls had hit, Perisa was also tied up, with a tattooed stranger by the jukebox, lips locked and beers forgotten.
It was safe to say they were all pretty fucked up. Lacey eventually bid her farewells, leaving the spot with Geoff in tow, and Persia decided to disappear into one of the bathrooms of the bar, because she was raunchy like that. Gwen hung out by the bar stools, entertaining Geoff's friends that had lagged behind, but eventually the guys dispersed and Gwen was left alone with her beer.
A couple of bottles after and god knows how many hours later, Gwen realized she was totally shitfaced. Stumbling into the bathroom she noticed that Persia and her guy were totally not in there anymore, and that they must have gone back to her place to continue fooling around.
Her car was parked at some back alley behind one of the first bars they had hit up, so she dug around her pockets for her phone to order a Lyft because she couldn't drive like this.
She looked at herself in the crusty bathroom mirror, covered in stickers and tape and bodily fluids, her reflection showing her disheveled short hair and her dark eye makeup, which was slightly smudged on the left. She reapplied her black lipstick and straightened up her dress before heading back out into the bar with her hand running through her hair. She was trying to keep herself from swaying, but had to grab on to the bar top to keep herself from toppling over.
The cool breeze outside was refreshing, and it kept her nausea down. She decided to light up a cigarette while she waited, but she found herself getting woken up by a strangers hand on her shoulder.
Her blurry vision caught they guy's face, seemingly familiar but she couldn't place it, she was too drunk.
"Hey... wait, Gwen?"
"Hmm? Are you my Lyft?" She slurred, nodding her head back onto the brick wall she was sitting up against.
"Uhh, sure. Do you remember who I am?"
"Can you help me into the car? I don't feel so great."
The guy grabbed her by the waist with one arm, throwing her arm over his shoulders as he guided her into the Lyft.
"Had one too many, sweetheart?"
"Ughh, can you please not call me that?"
"Sure thing Pasty, I got plenty more nicknames for you."
Gwen kept quiet, smiling because that's what Duncan used to call her, and eventually knocked right out again. She'd been on this crazy bender lifestyle ever since school ended, she'd never been this crazy into drinking before, but she figured it was because she was unhappy or depressed or something.
The Lyft driver opened up her door when they arrived back at her place, his warm hand touching her shoulder to shake her awake softly. "Hey, you okay babe?"
"I'm fine, I-" Before she could even finish her sentence she was sticking her head out of the car and vomiting. A lot. On this guy's shoes.
"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry," Gwen was coughing and using her sleeves to wipe at the saliva on her chin, when she looked up and saw Duncan under the streetlight, his shoes covered in her puke.
He had moved back a few steps, laughing and throwing his shoes off his feet and into the grass, and Gwen just kept puking because this couldn't be happening.
"Gwen, dude are you okay?"
"I'm dying of embarrassment and I just wanna go home."
"Awe c'mon, don't be like that. Here, I'll help you up." Duncan extended his hand out, and now that Gwen was feeling a little better without all that poison in her stomach, she realized she was sitting in the back of a police car.
"Am I going to jail?"
"What?! No, you idiot, I'm gonna take you inside. Do you have your keys?" Duncan was holding up most of Gwen's weight and she was literally so ashamed of herself. She hadn't even called her Lyft. She didn't ever get to that, and it was around 5 am and Duncan must have gotten called over to see about this passed out girl in front of the bar. Things could have ended so much worse, but Gwen was still humiliated. Of all the people who could have found her.
"Yeah, I'm just gonna knock out now. Thanks for helping me out. I had wayyy too much."
"There she is, stringing together entire sentences and all! C'mon, let me open up your door."
Gwen dug into her pockets for her keys, handing them over to the responsible adult. They were both greeted by Bruiser, crying about not getting fed, but Gwen could barely make it past the couch so that's where she stayed. She had figured Duncan was gone already, but then she realized it was Duncan and that he was already making himself comfortable.
He strolled into the kitchen, gave the cat some kibble and popped back into the living room with a cool glass of water and a wet napkin.
"How you holdin' up babe?" His face comes into full view and Gwen can see those blue eyes and those thick eyebrows. She'd recognize them from a mile away.
"Duncan? Why are you driving a police car?"
He rolled his eyes, possibly tired of explaining himself, "Because I happen to be a cop. Now drink some water and let me put you to bed, please. You need rest."
Gwen nodded, her vision still blurry, noting that the boy who she once knew was now a strapping young man, and that he was only wearing socks.
"Where are your shoes?"
"Don't worry about that," He whispered, crouching down in front of her and wiping at her face with the napkin, reminding her that she had barfed all over them and that they were out on the driveway, in a patch of grass. "How are you feeling?"
"Better… Thank you. Who called me in?"
"Some group of dudes, said that a friend of theirs left with one of yours and then they found you outside but they were too drunk to help. You're lucky. Those dudes could have been creeps."
"I know. Don't remind me.."
"Are you okay here on your own?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna go bed soon."
"Okay. I'm gonna leave, but I'll check in with you in the morning, kay? We got like 5 years' worth of catching up to do."
Duncan gets up from his crouch, ruffling Gwen's hair and leaving something on the coffee table where their high school yearbook still sits, which Duncan has no doubt noticed by now, but he doesn't mention it and leaves as quietly as possible.
Tomorrow is gonna suck so hard.