to come out. Emerson kept looking at his watch, tapping his fingers on the carpeted floor. He never was a patient guy. I guess it came with being the only heir to a family that owned a third of the undeveloped real estate in the county. He saw me looking at him and gave me a warm smile. I smiled back.
“Very well,” he finally said after a few minutes. “I think they’ve had enough time. Let’s give them a knock, shall we?”
He stood up and approached the cupboard. But before he could knock, the couple went out. Colton had a satisfied beam on his face and Cassandra seemingly checked if the front of her top was in the right place. It doesn’t take a genius to know that they made out.
“Colton scores a touchdown, baby!” the mountain of a young man screamed.
“Everybody, let’s give our fist pair of lovebirds a round of applause,” Emerson requested, and everyone clapped their hands. Colton assumed a victory pose. The frustration on Maggie’s face never waned.
The game proceeded. Pair after pair after pair of people went inside the cabinet, some of them more than once. Colton, for example, was chosen by another girl, Melinda Bright, who just proved that a name is just a name as Colton was hardly a smart choice. He led her to the dresser with the same level of enthusiasm (and roughness) as he had with Cassandra, much to Maggie’s chagrin.
On the sixth go-around, the bottle spun, and for the first time since the game started, I had felt a tinge of nervousness that only escalated as the bottle slowed down its twirl.
When it stopped, I immediately knew the reason behind my anxiety.
The bottle pointed at Emerson, and he instantly looked at me with the same smile he flashed earlier in the evening.
Colton gave him a pat on the back, as if he knew whom Emerson would choose. Some of the girls looked at me with knowing grins, as if they were aware of something I wasn’t. Chelsea Summers had a smirk, as if she was happy that I’d end up with someone else. And Maggie, a picture of exasperation from the earlier events, gave me a shrug, as if she was saying that I was on my own.
“Who you choosing, Perdew?” Colton asked as he placed his arm on Emerson’s shoulder. “Do we have to wait for you to say it? Or should I shout it out myself?”
Everyone laughed.
I cringed in horror.
“I know, I know...” Emerson began to say. “It’s no secret... and I’d really appreciate this time I will be spending with her...”
There were aaaawws from the girls.
“I think fate found a way to make this happen,” he continued rather theatrically. “I’m choosing...”
He paused to take a shot of Tequila from the glass he was holding.
But before he could gulp it down, someone bumped him from behind. Emerson’s head whipped forward and the Tequila splashed all over his face and his shirt. He began to cough as some of the alcohol went straight to his lungs. I think it went through his nostrils.
“Oh, sorry bro. I didn’t know you were there,” said the guy who accidentally crashed into him.
It was Darwin.
And for the first time since that stupid game began, I found myself smiling. I didn’t understand what I was feeling at first. Relief, gratitude, thrill, delight, worry, exhilaration... a plethora of emotions that sucked my soul like a maelstrom at the center of my being.
It took a couple of seconds before I realized what it was...
Joy.
Emerson quickly stood up. He was coughing incessantly as his nose and lungs continued to burn. He ran downstairs, presumably towards the kitchen to get himself sorted out.
Darwin took his place and sat. And as was always the case, the girls became flushed and conscious about their appearance and posture.
“What are you guys playing?” he asked with the tone of coolness that everyone has since adored and which I
“Very well,” he finally said after a few minutes. “I think they’ve had enough time. Let’s give them a knock, shall we?”
He stood up and approached the cupboard. But before he could knock, the couple went out. Colton had a satisfied beam on his face and Cassandra seemingly checked if the front of her top was in the right place. It doesn’t take a genius to know that they made out.
“Colton scores a touchdown, baby!” the mountain of a young man screamed.
“Everybody, let’s give our fist pair of lovebirds a round of applause,” Emerson requested, and everyone clapped their hands. Colton assumed a victory pose. The frustration on Maggie’s face never waned.
The game proceeded. Pair after pair after pair of people went inside the cabinet, some of them more than once. Colton, for example, was chosen by another girl, Melinda Bright, who just proved that a name is just a name as Colton was hardly a smart choice. He led her to the dresser with the same level of enthusiasm (and roughness) as he had with Cassandra, much to Maggie’s chagrin.
On the sixth go-around, the bottle spun, and for the first time since the game started, I had felt a tinge of nervousness that only escalated as the bottle slowed down its twirl.
When it stopped, I immediately knew the reason behind my anxiety.
The bottle pointed at Emerson, and he instantly looked at me with the same smile he flashed earlier in the evening.
Colton gave him a pat on the back, as if he knew whom Emerson would choose. Some of the girls looked at me with knowing grins, as if they were aware of something I wasn’t. Chelsea Summers had a smirk, as if she was happy that I’d end up with someone else. And Maggie, a picture of exasperation from the earlier events, gave me a shrug, as if she was saying that I was on my own.
“Who you choosing, Perdew?” Colton asked as he placed his arm on Emerson’s shoulder. “Do we have to wait for you to say it? Or should I shout it out myself?”
Everyone laughed.
I cringed in horror.
“I know, I know...” Emerson began to say. “It’s no secret... and I’d really appreciate this time I will be spending with her...”
There were aaaawws from the girls.
“I think fate found a way to make this happen,” he continued rather theatrically. “I’m choosing...”
He paused to take a shot of Tequila from the glass he was holding.
But before he could gulp it down, someone bumped him from behind. Emerson’s head whipped forward and the Tequila splashed all over his face and his shirt. He began to cough as some of the alcohol went straight to his lungs. I think it went through his nostrils.
“Oh, sorry bro. I didn’t know you were there,” said the guy who accidentally crashed into him.
It was Darwin.
And for the first time since that stupid game began, I found myself smiling. I didn’t understand what I was feeling at first. Relief, gratitude, thrill, delight, worry, exhilaration... a plethora of emotions that sucked my soul like a maelstrom at the center of my being.
It took a couple of seconds before I realized what it was...
Joy.
Emerson quickly stood up. He was coughing incessantly as his nose and lungs continued to burn. He ran downstairs, presumably towards the kitchen to get himself sorted out.
Darwin took his place and sat. And as was always the case, the girls became flushed and conscious about their appearance and posture.
“What are you guys playing?” he asked with the tone of coolness that everyone has since adored and which I
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