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----- A Drink with a Stranger By: Sean Roberts -----
-- Chapter 5 --
Lane was in bed, unable to sleep. He was not thinking about anything in particular. He pushed off the covers and pushed down his pajama bottoms. He closed his eyes and started to touch himself. He was seventeen years old and he was hard as a rock. Suddenly there was a knock on his door, and it swung open.
"Hey Lane—" It was Taylor, who shut the door quickly and started laughing. Lane quickly pulled up his pants.
"What the fuck Taylor. Haven't you heard of knocking?"
"I did knock," the boy said, still laughing.
"Yeah, well, you're supposed to wait for someone to say come in."
"Sorry," Taylor said. He walked up to his brother's bed and sat down.
"What do you want? I'm a bit busy at the moment." Taylor laughed again, and Lane suddenly was not angry, and laughed as well.
"One day I'm going to walk in on you, and then we'll see how funny it is," Lane said.
"It'll never happen," Taylor said. It had, in fact, happened once, but Lane taught his brother all the tricks he knew for not getting caught, and Taylor had at least been saved the embarrassment of getting caught by his parents. "Anyway, I need to ask you something."
"Okay."
"Well today, at lunch, Ellis was sitting by himself. And he should sit with us, you know? So I said I was going to invite him, and everyone started laughing. And then, umm, I laughed with them. I don't know what to do. I should have invited him over anyway." Lane sat up.
"Yeah, so why didn't you?"
"I don't know. I didn't know what everyone else would say if I did."
"Well look, what did mom always tell us?"
"That we should be nice to everybody."
"There you go." After Taylor left, Lane lay back in his bed, feeling guilty about the advice he had just given. He had not exactly been nice to Ellis himself.
--
The week was almost over and Taylor was bursting with excitement when he met Lane after school to go home. "You heard about Finn's party, didn't you?" Taylor said. "Are you coming? Can you believe it? Jess and I are the only juniors who got invited!"
"No, I didn't hear about it. And I'm not going."
"How can you not be going? All the seniors are going!"
"Well I'm not." Taylor brought it up again at dinner to his parents.
"Is your brother going?" James Conway asked.
"No," Lane said.
"Well I don't think you should be going to something like that without your brother," James said. Their mother agreed. Lane snorted into his food. That evening, Taylor walked into his room again after a brief knock. This time, at least, Lane was just sitting at his desk, studying.
"You have to go!" Taylor said. "Jessica's super excited, and—"
"Taylor! I'm trying to study, okay? And maybe you should do the same thing, instead of worrying so much about parties."
"Bite me. I've been studying all evening. Anyway, there aren't any parties to worry about because you have to act like a big loser all the time." Lane took a deep breath to stop himself from showing his brother exactly how much a "loser" could kick his arse.
"Listen Taylor," Lane said calmly. "I drive you wherever you want to go. I help you with your homework; I played soccer with you all summer. Don't ever fucking talk to me like that again." Taylor's face turned red.
"Fine," Taylor said. "But it's what everybody else says about you. They keep asking my why you don't have any friends, why you're off on your own all the time and why you hate all the jocks. Then, for some reason, Ellis told me you won't let him help out with the paper. Everyone was making fun of me too when you ran to the pitch when Richard hit me. Everyone thinks you're a gigantic weirdo, and it really blows being your brother." Lane stared at Taylor for a few moments. He did not know what to say, but he knew that Taylor was right.
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Just come to the party. Hang out with your friends for once."
"Okay," Lane said, defeated. "But only so you can go." Taylor lunged forward and threw his arms around his brother. Lane laughed and hugged him back.
"By the way Taylor, how did you find out what happened with Ellis?"
"I invited him to sit with us at lunch. We've all been sort of making friends with him over the last couple of days."
"Good for you," Lane said. "But whatever he told you isn't true. I never said he couldn't join. He decided he couldn't make the required meetings."
"Are you kidding me? What meetings? You have meetings with yourself?"
"Taylor, I've got lots of work to do. Good night." Taylor rolled his eyes and left the room. Lane gave up studying and climbed into bed. A party at Finn's would not be the worst thing in the world; at least he could drink.
--
"Listen you two," Lane said to Taylor and Jessica as they were getting out of the car. "No drinking; no drugs; and no, umm, no anything else! Got it?" They said something along the lines of "yeah, yeah" (which sounded suspiciously like "fuck off") and disappeared into the party. Lane waited until they were completely out of sight before pulling out his flask. Here goes nothing.
Suddenly, a firm hand clapped him on the back. "Duuude!" Lane felt himself being pushed into the kitchen. "Let's get this guy a beer!" It was Richard.
"Umm, I don't really drink beer—" Nobody was listening to him. Before he knew it there was a red paper cup of beer in his hands.
"Bro," Richard said to him. "Finn said it was you who got us all out of trouble that day. Look, I'm really sorry about Taylor. I didn't mean to hit him. But thanks. I don't know how you did it."
Lane had bolted to Principal Vance's office. He explained that he might have misunderstood what he had seen. He also suggested, very politely, that since nobody was there watching, everyone's parents might start questioning why that was.
"This is the second time you've had a run in with the soccer team," Principal Vance said.
"I know," Lane said. "Honestly sir? I really just don't like any of them. I don't know how it keeps happening. I promise I'll do a better job of staying away from them." The coach and the principal looked at each other. "Look," Lane said. "Everyone in there knows they're in a ton of trouble. And we'll all take detentions or whatever. I just think it might be simpler if we keep our parents out of it."
"If it were anybody other than you in here, Mr. Conway... Alright then," Principal Vance had said. "We'll be back there in a few minutes." Lane had gone back to tell everyone the good news.
Richard pushed his cup up against Lane's, spilling beer out of both. Lane took a hesitant sip; it was not as bad as he had remembered it being the first time he had ever tried beer.
"Richard," Lane said. "How did you get Ellis not to squeal though?"
"I didn't. After you left, Finn came back into the classroom and told Ellis that since he's part of our team now, if he got us all in trouble, we'd all be screwed out of playing the games. Ellis sort of shrugged, but as you know, he didn't rat me out."
"Cool," Lane said. "Well listen, I'd better go and find, umm, well, see ya." He walked away quickly, before Richard could respond. He went outside to find a quiet spot in the back yard where he could enjoy his scotch. He took a few sips and somehow, despite the noise of partying teenagers, fell asleep. He woke to Ellis Walsh standing over him. Ellis was dressed differently from everyone else, who was clad in jeans and t- shirts. He was wearing chinos and a button down, navy blue shirt which suited him nicely.
"Enjoying yourself?" Ellis said.
"Enough that I'm asleep," Lane said. "Do tell Finn for me that he throws a great party."
"Tell him yourself; he's around here somewhere. He'll be happy you came."
"I doubt that," Lane said. "I'm only here because of my brother—he's the one Finn actually invited." Ellis sat down beside Lane.
"I see," Ellis said.
"How's your face?" Lane asked.
"It still hurts, actually. But at least they're all being civil to me now."
"Is that why you're out here on your own?"
"I'm out here with you. And yeah. Finn's the only one who's been nice to me, really, aside from your brother. He's a good kid." Ellis took a sip of whatever he was drinking.
"I brought scotch," Lane said, handing Ellis the flask.
"Ah. Well a small nip won't hurt," Ellis replied. "Thanks."
"I heard you're the reason nobody got into any real trouble for that little scuffle," Ellis said. "I was surprised. I mean, you don't seem to like anybody on the soccer team much."
"It's complicated," Lane said.
"Is that why you didn't want to let me join the paper? You just don't like soccer players?"
"I didn't not let you join the paper, Ellis," Lane said. "You decided you couldn't make the mandatory meetings." The second time, it seemed like a more flimsy excuse, but Lane had decided to stick with it.
"Did you have to schedule the meetings for when you know I have practice?"
"Yes. Do you really expect me to re-arrange my schedule because you woke up one day and decided you need more than the ability to kick a ball to get into college?"
"Is you re-arranging your schedule an option?"
"No," Lane said. He took a swig from his flask. "I'll tell you what, Ellis. Write as much as you want for the Hunter. Even if it sucks, I promise I'll publish at least a few pieces. If it's any good, I'll publish more. But aside from that, I'll sign off on whatever forms are needed to confirm that you're actually staff, but you won't have to do any additional work. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like bullshit," Ellis said. He stood up and walked away. Lane was confused, so he continued to drink to try and clear it up. He ran out of scotch, and then decided to go back inside to find the keg. Lane had actually been enjoying himself. Though he was alone, drinking with other people around was much more enjoyable than him being locked up in his bedroom. Anyway, if he ran into Ellis on the way to his next drink, he could tell him what a mood fucking up idiot of a jock he was. Lane stood up and everything started to spin. Lane walked through the yard, past the pool where a number of people had congregated. He remembered countless hours spent inside Finn's pool when they were kids; when they had nothing to worry about besides the sun retiring for the evening.
"You traitor bastard!" Lane heard someone yell. He looked up. A couple of guys had Ellis by the arms, and fully clothed, through him bodily into the water, laughing. Lane shook his head (which he found was a bad idea). The guys dissipated, and Lane walked over to the edge. Ellis had swum back. Lane reached down and offered a hand, helping Ellis pull himself out of the water.
"Come on, follow me," Lane said. He took Ellis through the house and up the stairs, towards Finn's bedroom. Lane switched on the light. There was a familiar poster or two of famous soccer players, but aside from that, Finn's room was completely different from how he remembered it. It had been painted soberly; the furniture was all new. What was he expecting? Lane had not been in here for years. He went through Finn's closet and found Ellis a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He handed them over, the room spinning again as he heard Ellis faintly thanking him. Lane felt himself falling forward, then everything went black.
--
Despite the changes, Lane knew immediately that he was in Finn's room. Despite the stale alcohol pouring out of his own skin, he could smell Finn in the sheets. His head was pounding.
Lane stumbled out of bed. The room was still spinning, but he could stand. There were some neatly folded clothes sitting atop the dresser. They were, in fact, his. Lane had no idea how they had gotten there, but he was grateful. He stepped out of the bedroom and helped himself to a long, hot shower before putting on fresh clothes.
Lane went downstairs to find a clean and mostly empty house. Finn and Ellis were sitting on the couch, drinking coffee.
"Good morning sunshine," Ellis said, smiling. Finn laughed.
"Where's Taylor?" Lane said, collapsing onto the couch.
"I drove him and Jessica home. That's how I got your clothes."
"Oh, right. Well, thanks," Lane said. Lane could not have put himself in a more uncomfortable position. Ellis and Finn were watching him, apparently waiting for him to say something else. "Well, I'd better get home, and—"
"Lane," Finn said. "Let me get you come coffee," Finn said.
"I'm fine," Lane said. "Really, I'd better get home."
"Sure," Finn said. Ellis nodded. Lane smiled at them in a way he hoped did not appear fake, and quickly left the house.
When he was close to home, Lane sent a text message to Taylor to find out the precise location of their parents. Taylor helped him sneak in, and they pretended he had been home all night. He ate breakfast with Taylor and his parents before going upstairs to take a nap. His door swung open, just as he had climbed into bed.
"Seriously Lane?" Taylor said. "I'm not allowed to go to the party without your supervision, and you pass out drunk? And after you told Jessica and me not to drink?" Lane sighed.
"Look Taylor, it wasn't my fault," he said. "Someone made me have a beer, and that's all I drank. I think he put something in it."
"Oh," Taylor said. "Really?"
"Yeah," Lane said, relieved that this was now over. "But you covered for me even though you thought—"
"You'd have done it for me," Taylor said.
"Cheers, bro," Lane said, smiling. It took Lane a long time to fall asleep again; he could not remember a time where he had really lied to his brother.