Cocaine Hearts

Chapter 6

Brandon and I couldn't contain our laughter as we walked away from the tent, still amused by Dallas storming off in a fit of rage.

"I honestly thought he was going to take on both of you," I chuckle, handing Brandon another beer from the ice chest as we settled by the crackling fire.

"Really? You think he would have tried?" Brandon asks, sounding genuinely surprised as he pops open his beer and takes a long gulp.

"I do. I've seen him in much wilder fights before. It was actually more shocking when he decided to leave," I reply, leaning back and relaxing, fully embracing our intoxicated state.

Around us, the party was in full swing, with teenagers running around like untamed animals. Guys were chugging beers, showing off their abs, while girls boldly shed their shirts, proudly flaunting their assets. The atmosphere was loud and chaotic, but everyone was clearly having a blast.

"So, did you bring a tent to crash in?" I inquire, glancing at Brandon.

"Um, no? Was I supposed to?" he responds, sounding a bit unsure.

"Well..." I pause, reaching for a hair tie around my wrist and swiftly putting my blonde hair up in a high ponytail. "Usually, the party goes on until Sunday morning. Tomorrow, most people will likely be on mushrooms, acid, or still heavily drunk."

"And everyone's parents are okay with this?" Brandon asks, genuinely curious.

I burst into laughter, looking at him as if he's joking. But he seems serious. "I highly doubt anyone is telling their parents where they really are. I mean, did you?"

"Yeah, of course," he answers, completely serious.

"Oh, so you were like, 'Hey, Mom and Dad, some girl invited me to a party, and now I'm going to get wasted all night.' I just don't see that going well," I retort, raising an eyebrow at him.

"My parents work a lot, and they trust me to make the right choices. I haven't gotten into any trouble yet, right?" Brandon replies, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

"I guess so. You're definitely not as boring as I initially thought," I admit, unable to hide my surprise.

"Ouch. Thanks. You thought I was boring?" he quips, feigning offense.

"Honestly, yeah. At least, by my standards. But you're actually pretty cool. Just don't let it go to your head," I tease, giving him a playful smirk.

He grins back at me, stretching his body as he stands up. "Do you want another beer?"

"I always want another beer," I reply, setting my empty one down beside me and watching him walk towards the coolers.

Alize, a lovely Mexican girl whom I share several classes with, joins me on the seat. "Hey, are you guys dating?" she asks, stealing a glance at Brandon, who's engrossed in conversation with some guys near the ice chest, holding two cold beers in his hands.

"No, we're just friends," I respond with a smile.

"Oh, that's too bad. You guys look really cute together," she comments, her voice filled with a hint of disappointment.

"Thanks?" I reply, unsure of how to react.

Brandon returns, carrying the beers, and Alize stands up, blushing as she walks past him. I can't help but wonder if she has a crush on him...

"I think she might like you," I casually mention, glancing in the direction Alize left from.

"Who, her? I mean, she's nice, but not my type," Brandon responds nonchalantly, barely looking up from his task.

"What is your type?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.

"Honestly, I don't know," he admits.

"So, you like men," I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, no, nothing like that. I dated my ex-girlfriend for over a year, but let's just say it didn't work out..." he says, shrugging his shoulders. I decide not to press any further, understanding the reluctance to discuss a breakup.

"We're just in high school, so it's not like any of these relationships would have lasted anyway," I remark, taking a sip of my beer.

"I beg to differ," Brandon counters. "My parents started dating freshman year."

"Wait, people actually do that? It actually happens? And they still like each other?" I ask, my disbelief evident.

He chuckles. "Of course they do. What's the point of being in a relationship if you're not looking for your forever?"

"To live life and have fun," I reply simply. "Sure, maybe it could work out, but overall, I doubt it."

"So, I'm guessing that means your parents aren't together?" he asks, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. He scoots closer to me as a drunk i***t almost trips over him, spilling beer everywhere.

"Party foul, asshole!" I yell at the stumbling drunk before turning back to our conversation. "But no, my parents split up almost ten years ago, and my mom remarried. Martin is really nice though."

"What about your dad?" Brandon asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

I start to squirm uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. It's already embarrassing enough to tell people that my dad is in prison, let alone explain the reasons behind it. In an attempt to divert the conversation, I quickly chug my beer and sit up. "Do you want another beer? Because I'm gonna get another one."

"Oh... Okay... Sure, I'll go with you," he says, standing up. I can't help but giggle as I notice him stumble to the side.

"Come on, dude, that's only like your sixth, maybe seventh beer tonight. You can't really be drunk already," I tease.

"I'm not a big drinker," he laughs. "And you could barely walk by the time I got here."

"Yeah, but that's after a ton of alcohol, not just six beers. Plus, you're way bigger than me," I point out.

"I mean, are you saying a six-pack won't get you drunk?"

"Drunk? Hell no. Buzzed? Maybe," I respond, reaching into the ice chest and tossing him another beer.

The night carried on with us socializing, partying, and enjoying ourselves alongside our respective groups of friends. We continued to drink, and even ended up doing a few more lines of something in Jacob's tent. As the party dwindled down, most of the attendees fell asleep in their tents or passed out haphazardly in the woods near the fire. Navigating through the scattered bodies, Brandon and I struggled to maintain our balance, our movements hindered by our intoxication and high state. We stumbled and laughed, clearly impaired and unable to function properly. Eventually, we reached my tent, which I was supposed to share with Ashley, but she was occupied with Zeke in his tent.

Teasingly, I ask Brandon, "Where are you going to sleep if you didn't bring a tent?" I hold onto a nearby tree to steady myself.

"I... I mean— everyone else is passed out on the ground," he stutters. "I can do the same."

"You know you could sleep in my tent, right? It fits four people, and Ashley's spot is open tonight if you want it."

"Are you... Trying to get me to go to bed with you?" Brandon asks, attempting to maintain his balance.

"No, of course not. I'm offering for you to stay in there as a friend. Besides, you would be on the opposite side of the tent," I clarify.

"Is there a pillow?" he questions in his drunken state.

"Of course, there are sleeping bags too."

"Okay, as long as you don't mind," he agrees as I open the tent and he follows me inside. It's a spacious tent for only four people, and Ashley had already set up her bedding on the other side earlier.

"You can take that side," I point to Ashley's designated area.

"Okay, thank you," he responds, zipping up the tent and settling into Ashley's makeshift cot made of blankets and sleeping bags.

Deciding not to change into my pajamas in front of Brandon, I opt to stay fully dressed and slip into my sleeping bag. I close my eyes, feeling the effects of the alcohol and drugs, but with a small smile on my face. "Goodnight, Miya," Brandon says, his voice laced with fatigue.

"Goodnight," I reply, drifting off to sleep, intoxicated and dizzy, but excited to see how the rest of the weekend would unfold.