Teal Is Not A Good Color For A Couch
Author's note: I had to write this for a creative writing class. And I felt like it was good enough to publish I guess.
PartyI tried to wake Amanda up to ask her where she wanted me to take her. I grabbed her arm and said her name. She wasn’t moving. I moved my thumb I could feel the bass pounding in my chest. I knew I should go home. I really didn’t want to go home. I heard someone yell my name. “Hey Faye, come get a drink!” the voice sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. The house was huge. The living room itself was as big as the house next door. I made my way through a sea of sweat and beer in the living room to the kitchen. It was less crowded in there. There were three people standing a corner gossiping, and one girl standing by herself. She was handing out red Solo cups to everyone that wanted beer. I thought her name was Janessa. She handed me a cup and started talking.
“Oh, Faye! I haven’t seen you forever! How are your parents?” I gave her a blank look. “Oh I forgot about the divorce, I’m so sorry.” She said it like she thought I cared then kept talking about her life and all the gossip that she could think of but her words had faded to a dull buzz in the back of my mind. I thought about how my parents had just gotten a divorce. My mom had become a raging alcoholic when I was seven. My dad finally had enough of her drunken rampages and filed for a divorce. I had never been so proud of him in my life. She was crazy, and I couldn’t stand her. I didn’t want to end up like my mom. I put the Solo cup down and cut off Janessa to tell her I was leaving. She hugged me and told me to call her next weekend. I told her I would and left.
I went out the back door and walked around the monstrous house to my truck. It was a dark green GMC with five seats. It was in good condition, and I loved it like some people love their kids. It was my baby. I groaned. It was cold and snowy outside. I had to scrape off the windows because of the snow. It looked like a drunk person had done it because I did it as fast as possible. I hadn’t had any alcohol so I was safe to drive. I got in the truck, turned on the radio, and cranked the heat. I threw it in reverse and backed out. I got halfway out of the driveway when I heard a loud smack on one of my windows. I slammed on my brakes and frantically looked around for the source of the noise. My best friend Amanda was standing by my window. I rolled it down. She was swaying from side to side and singing to herself quietly.
“Can I get a ride?” She slurred. The scent of alcohol was heavy on her breath. She must have had a lot to drink.
“Get in and put your seatbelt on.” I said in my best mom voice. I reserved that voice for talking to little kids and drunken people. They act about the same.
“Seatbelts are for losers.” Amanda struggled with her words. She was slurring a lot. That was unusual for her. I reached over her and put her seatbelt on for her. We pulled the rest of the way out of the huge driveway and headed down the long twisty road back to town. Amanda fell asleep after five minutes into the drive. I pulled up to the white line in the intersection and waited for the light to turn green.