uhm, some paper.

“So, Tell Me About That Night.”
Jacob
I could tell this story like a romantic teenage love story that just couldn't work out, maybe the boyfriend left for the army. I could make it like the plot line of one those teen movies where a nerd turns into a beauty queen to get the guy, or vice versa. I could make it a romance between two people jaded by love, I could make us middle-aged. I could even make it a relatable coming-of-age story, probably about me losing my virginity. Which it is, kind of. Really it is all of these things. I don't really know how to define these things, so it just is.
I met you at work. You stared at me all evening, and I couldn't figure out if you were a decently cute new guy or someone I already knew who had dramatically changed their hair style. Kyle investigated. I gave you a break and wanted to introduce myself, but decided against it. You were too \short, and when I heard your voice, I thought you might be a little retarded. Which you are. But they don't let truly retarded people on register, just as baggers, so I kept thinking.
You came up to me later on that night, smelling of smoke. I couldn't believe you smoked. Later we had a conversation about school as I swept off mats, and you didn't seem interested. I stopped caring, but two months of work flirting commenced. You called me Katiedid and kissed my hands. I started caring again. You asked for my number but never called it.
I came in at 5:30, you were set to leave at six. It was unusually warm for April. You carried out flowers and brought me back one. I took out a cart, still in shock, and saw you leaving the store. The middle-aged black lady businesswoman in the Honda Element whose groceries I had just bagged pulled up next to us, and rolled down her window. “Oh, I can just tell by the way you're looking at her.” Let's just pause for a second. This actually happened, this is all true. You melted my heart. I wanted you more than anything, and you seemed to reciprocate the feelings.
This is where the story gets kind of weird. You see, thus far this is a slightly atypical teenage dating story. But we have yet to hang out outside of work. I check your schedule and drop in on a Saturday to talk to you. Finally, an invitation. I call you later than I should and we meet up at 7-11. I don't know your friends, but one takes a liking to my best friend, and he rides with us to the parties. You don't talk to me but in passing. This goes on for a couple of weeks. I keep trying.
One night I didn't want to go hang out, but my friend convinced me because she wanted to see her interest, your friend. The ever-present PBR was especially prevalent tonight, and I had more than enough. You paid attention to me for the first time, probably because I was one of the few people you knew there. Eventually we went to the final party around 2 am, and I knew I had to leave. I was impulsive for the first time possibly ever, and called my mom and told her we were staying at Jessica's. A drunken best friend sitting on a traffic cone told me to make my move, while she moved on to a different guy. I sat next to you on the bench. You put your arm around me. The best friend and her new heavily tattooed love interest went inside. We kissed. We lay down on the bench. You put your hands down my pants, a surprising move, and told me you wanted to fuck me. After your friend comes outside to smoke a cigarette and warns us that this is a open area outdoors and to be safe, you go inside and find a place to stay. We leave as I make sure the best friend is being taken care of by the tattooed guy, and drive drunk to the guy's place.
If warning bells haven't already gone off, they should be now. Because I fail to mention that this was the first time I had sex. And it was excellent. I didn't believe it was happening even as it was, even the next morning. You didn't kiss me goodbye when we went to pick up the best friend.
It goes on like this for a few weeks, each time getting harder for me to initiate and each time getting less meaningful. I don't see you for a month, we barely speak at work, and I barely even knew what hit me. It still didn't seem real. One night you got drunk and called me, the best friend took me to you, we talked for the first time. You ask me if I've had sex with anyone else, I thought that was odd, and you tell me you have.
“What did you want from me?”
“Nothing really. A hookup. I don't see this going anywhere.”
“Thanks for being honest.”
You tell me you still want to fuck me, and I want to tell you about the new guy I'm talking to, but I can't. I tell you I'm on my period but you don't care, I can't get out of it and I don't want to at all. We have sex in the basement with your friend 'asleep' in the room.
We don't hang out anymore after that. I move to a different department and we never work together. You got a girlfriend, the girl you fucked when we weren't talking, a girl a year younger than me and still in high school. You are almost 21. In a strange way, you boost my self esteem. I didn't see you for 4 months until one day I was sweeping out the salad bar and I hear your familiar voice calling me Katiedid. We hug and you rub my back and you give me that look. The “I want to fuck you” look you're so good at. I know it will lead to nothing, but a part of me still wants you to get me as high as you did that night. Every time I see you after that, I get the same look. I move away, to where your friends live but you no longer visit.
There is no ending. Sorry. The story never ends, or if it has, this is it. You're taken, I'm gone. This is really not a story of anything, it is a case study. It is what we history majors call “microhistory”, the one account of a seemingly unimportant event. I don't think of you as often as I feel I should, but you made me write. All I am left with of you is one amazing night and a strange story to tell.

Tyler
Tyler and I, we're complicated. He's got a beautiful soul and a silly mind. I've got a haggard soul and a serious mind. We clash, but we melt together perfectly. We met at a party outside while your friends were yelling at the building owner about their right to party. We all left and went to party number two. We went our separate ways, but before I left I found you to say goodbye. I didn't think I'd ever see you again. The following week I went to another party where you bellowed my name over and over while driving away. I didn't give a shit, I liked another boy who didn't care to look at me twice. Week three : the best night ever.
Katey, my best friend, was with a cute boy. There was something ravishing between the two of them. I wasn't really interested in you. We rode together in the backseat and I sang as loud as ever. You found a taco bell hot sauce packet. It said "Will you marry me?" on it. You proposed. I accepted. We were engaged.
We spent a lot of time outside talking about relationships, religion, and the government. I was hounded by boys. One spent an hour discussing the chance of the government planning out nine-eleven with me. One told me about his possible job teaching English in Mexico. You talked to the one moving to Mexico and offered me your jacket. I didn't really know who to choose. I ended up wanting you. I walked away and sat on an orange traffic cone. Your jacket was the only thing I needed next to a red solo cup filled with beer. I guess I thought that was the cute girl thing to do, but really I just had veins running with pure alcohol, so there wasn’t too much thinking. Katey left and I wasn't upset about it. I was alone with you. We were drunk as shit and drinking Nasty Ice like it was chocolate milk. We were kids. I forgot about the other boys. You were all I wanted. Your tattoos were like a jacket, letting you abandon your orange and grey Northface for me.
You'd asked permission to take me home with you. It was sweet. It was a gentlemanly gesture. I didn’t hear about it until the next day. With me you just played it off like you had absolutely not a clue where Katey could have gone. I made a show out of it for a while and then decided that I would just ride with you. I had a warm place to stay and maybe some food in my rumbling belly. Still, I thought this was all sincere. I figured out later that was not you. Well, it was you. It was the part of you that you later refused to show me.
I was seriously inebriated. I'm sure I made some sort of massive fool of myself. But, you were hunched over the wheel and we were both too past being able to drive. You looked like a 90 year old trying to drive: squinting eyes, hunched back, intense concentration. I was hooked. You were taking extreme care.
We aren't couple like. We are couple like. We don't try to fake it either. It's comforting. There's a pull between the two. A bit of confusion. I'm still naive at this point. I still think that dating is a possibility. So, if I were writing this then I'd be more serious. I'd think he was a pretentious ass. Which, of course he is but that’s besides the point. I'd think that he owed me more than a place to sit and view, and more than some shitty couch without a shoulder to lean on.
It's so hard to stay awake sometimes with you. I'd rather just fall asleep than watch your nonsense on Adult Swim. But, it makes us laugh. That's uncommon, it's genuine. Even that first night, you went to the bathroom and I nearly fell asleep. I forced myself to stay awake. Something amazing was going to happen. There was no question about it. The air felt pure and thick with contemplation. It was the opposite of how the air breathes when a couple filled with rage walks into a room.
We finally went to your room. It was quaint. Small. Perfect.
We got in bed. It was warm and comfy. Perfect.
We spooned. Your body was smooth. Perfect.
We fell asleep around 6am. Perfect.
You told Katey that you're not a jerk, that you didn't use me. I don't know why this was important for you to point out. Well, actually, I do. You care, but you can't. You're good at what you do.
We're some sort of beautiful. It's scary, but I hide it. I'm good at what I do.
I retrace our story sometimes and it always seems like a spider web. There’s no pattern, no exit, no enter like a maze, but a story with scattered subjects and no beginning or end. I challenge myself to remember everything down to the smell in your house or the glaze painted over your eyes. After the best night ever I fucked with fate. I asked a friend for your number in the morning, and instead of being the casual one night stand you wanted we ended up being what we are today: complicated. I ended up in a cycle of take, take, take that never ever gave. Well, I got your number and told you I had an amazing night your response was devoid of emotion, “yea.” My mind was so clouded that I thought you were just tired. I'm glad I've grown up.
Back then I didn’t know I’d fall in love. I didn’t know how hopeless I was or how hopeless you were. I didn’t know that’s what would keep me always coming back. I was clueless to the fact that I’d never be able to settle with anyone but you, the boy who couldn’t spell settle, let alone commit to settling.
I remember when things were just right. When we first met and it was bedroom love, the lights turned down and we fell in love over and over again. When the sun pelted through your window and our splendorous midnight love had cooled down. We are extremists; there is no middle about us.

Josiah
I stand before a bench full of drunks. I laugh in my head because we’re being so typical. I find it hard to believe that there’s much else to do with life, so I drink my Mickey’s and don’t question anything. There are two new girls tonight. One of them is a sweet red head occupied with Jacob, the other is brunette with edge and a solo cup full of kegger beer. Apparently Clay let her wipe on the sleeve of his sweater when she peed in an alleyway, but she seemed to be giving the eye to me and Tyler earlier. Poor Clay, he’s stuck with Julie whose pretty hot, but clingy as hell. One of those dominant girls who likes to flirt, but can’t stand to see him scan the room for friends. The brunette though, she’s trying to pick out who she’d give the good ol’ one-two to tonight.
I want to talk. My brain is sparking and I want some feedback. I ask everyone what they think about the government. Edgy girl talks a lot about nine-eleven. She’s into all of the government plotting bullshit.
‘Yeah, have you ever seen Loose Change?’
‘Uh, no I don’t think so.”
‘Oh, it’s about the possibility of the government being involved. It shows a lot of footage on fuck ups and proof of how they were involved. It’s pretty good. Insightful I guess.’
Jacob and the red-head were enveloped in each other. It was party love and that shit is sweeter than ever.
Red-head adds, ‘Yeah, didn’t le petit Nicolas suggest it to you?’
‘Mhm,’ the brunette replies.
I have no idea what she's talking about. ‘Oh, yea cool. Have you ever seen Zeitgeist?’ I ask, trying to change the subject.
‘Yeah, but not all the way through, I always end up skipping around.’
‘I really like all of the ideas in it. The fact that religion can be traced back to the Egyptians, that’s just mind blowing. I really hate government shit because it’s so depressing. We can’t ever change that.’
‘Religion is sort of the same thing though. You can’t change that institution. It’s just as depressing watching all those people believe.’
‘Yea, if anything I’m a deist,” red head girl pops in.
‘What’s that, brah?’
‘Brah?’ everyone sort of looks at each other and then laughs. When the hell did girls start calling each other brah?
‘So wait, what’s everyone’s name here? I don’t think I’ve met you two.’ I’ve got to at least know their names, referring to them by their hair color seems crude.
Brunette, ‘Oh, I’m Bianca.’
Red-head give a little smile and says, ‘Katey.’
‘Ok, Hey I’m Josiah.’
‘Anyways, I just think that God or someone may have created all of this, and that after that he left us to our own devices,” Katey continues.
‘Yeah, that makes some sense but I just don’t know how I feel about any sort of higher being.’

The conversation went on forever. It was stupid shit really. We get drunk, think we have good things to say that our ideas are monumental, but really in the morning we’re too hung-over to do anything about it. Pitiful. I walk into the house because it’s cold. I’ve just got this flimsy tee-shirt on.
‘Hey man,’ I hear from across the room.
‘Is there any more beer in the fridge, man?’ I ask ever hopeful.
‘Yeah, just grab one out of the fridge.’
Karaoke is going on inside. Clay’s girl is singing some Michael Jackson, which makes me laugh because he’s a pervert. I sit down and she hands me the microphone. And, the embarrassment begins. There’s not much to complain about though, what greater an idea than drunken Karaoke?
‘Beat it, Beat it, no one wants to be defeated!’
Tyler and Bianca come inside from the cold. She’s talking about sitting on a cone and how now her ass hurts. Well, no shit.
‘There wasn’t anything for me to sit on.’
‘The bench, haha.’
She sits down next to Clay’s girl. Probably not the best idea, but they were both equally drunk so maybe they’d get along. She’s really young and doesn’t know too many of the songs. I sort of wish for a while that I could be like that again, she's had a bit too much and it's easy to tell. Her voices cracks a lot when she sings and her words are all slurred. It was a terrible show, but she had this real big smile on her face which made it not so bad. Girls can do this thing, you know. They can make you feel real sick to your stomach, but then change it around so that you feel some sort of love for them. I leave though because Tyler seems to have marked his territory.
I light up a cigarette before I walk outside. Oh, what a daredevil. I don’t know how smokers live in houses where they’re forced to go outside. That’s so much time; I think that’d be an easy way to kick the habit. I open the door to Katey lying next to James whose hands are cozy in her pants.
I clear my throat, ‘You two do understand that there are other houses around here, right? That this is a public bench essentially.”
They look embarrassed but their eyes scream recklessness.
‘Haha, well, be safe you two. Have a good night.’

That's pretty much where I stop remembering details. I bid the bench-dwelling couple farewell as they set off for my friend Nate's apartment, and Bianca and Tyler hung around for a while before they drifted off somewhere when everyone started to make their drunk trek home. I saw those girls around once or twice after that night, but they didn't stick around long. To be fair, I didn't either, I quit partying in that scene, in fact I try to stay away from all sorts of scenes now. It keeps me a lot saner to be by myself. The girls came into my work one day, and I thought about saying Hi, but decided against it. I've met a million people at a million parties that I wouldn't stop and talk to on the street, and two girls that I'm unlikely to party with ever again are unlikely to care much about me either. I mean, it was a good night, but I wouldn't say it changed my life.