"Then take a walk with me." She said. "Let's go into the woods like the other couples have."
"I don't think that's a good idea." I told her.
"Why?" She burped, nearly falling. "I want to make love under the stars. Come on Bill," She kissed my neck, nipping at it. "Let's go."
"Not tonight." I insisted.
"Don't I turn you on anymore?" She pouted.
"Very much." I told her. "But I want your first time to be special. Doing it in the woods on a bunch of pine needles while you're drunk would not be special. Do you want your life-long memory of your first time to be, well, nothing? Because believe me Nina, you won't remember anything that's happened tomorrow."
She looked at me for a moment and was about to say something else when her face suddenly soured. "I'm gonna throw up." She said matter-of-factly.
She was right. I led her over to the edge of the woods, out of sight of everyone else, and she began vomiting up great gluts of beer. It went on for several minutes and I held her up while she did it. For the first time I began to worry about what her parents were going to think when I brought her home. Her Dad would kill me.
I led her over to my car and placed her in the passenger seat.
"Sit right here." I told her. "And if you need to throw up again, just do it outside, okay?"
She groaned in reply, but it was an affirmative groan. I headed back to the party to try and collect Mike.
Mike wasn't in much better condition. He was sitting on one of the picnic tables with his eyes closed, concentrating intently.
"You okay Mike?" I asked him.
"I feel sick." He told me. "I'm trying not to barf."
"C'mon." I told him, grabbing him by the arm. "Let's get you back to the car. I'll help you."
He leaned heavily on me as we walked.
"Guess what dude?" He burped, tripping and nearly falling.
"What?"
"I fucked Jessica Round tonight."
"Yeah?" I asked, knowing I was hearing a true pussy story for once from him.
"Yeah." He nodded. "I ate her pussy and everything. That bitch was hot for it. She kept tellin' me what she wanted me to do."
"Did you do it?" I asked.
"Goddam right." He affirmed. He then went on to describe the encounter in greater detail. By the time we got to the car I had the high points.
"Oh dude," He moaned as we reached my trunk. "Take me home."
"You need to do something for me first." I told him.
"What's that?" He slurred.
"Stick your finger down your throat."
"What?" He demanded, holding onto the trunk to keep the world from spinning out from under him.
"Stick your finger down your throat."
"That'll make me throw up!" He cried.
"Right." I acknowledged. "You're going to do it anyway so you might as well get it over with here instead of in my car. Besides, you'll feel better. Trust me."
"I don't know man." He said doubtfully.
It took a few more minutes but finally I convinced him. He staggered over a few paces, got down on his knees, and stuck his finger down his throat. A moment later he was regurgitating beer all over the place. While he did this I went to check on Nina. A fresh puddle outside the passenger door told me that she'd had another bought of vomiting. She was currently curled up in the seat, her head against the doorframe, asleep. I elected not to disturb her.
When Mike finished I loaded him into the back seat and buckled him up. I buckled up Nina and then started up the engine. I headed back to the city.
Mike was easy to get home. A few quick shakes in front of his house and a helping hand getting out of the car and he went staggering up his walkway, giving me a slurred farewell. He had some trouble getting the door open but finally figured out he was using the wrong key. Once this was rectified, he was inside. I drove off towards Nina's house.
The Blackmore house was darkened as I pulled to the curb and shut down my engine. I breathed a sigh of relief at this. Maybe I could get her inside without awakening her parents. Beside me Nina was unconscious, snoring softly. I began to shake her gently, trying to wake her.
"Nina." I called, using a louder and louder voice. "You're home."
She stirred a little but would not open her eyes. She batted at me once when I shook her a little too hard.
"Shit." I mumbled.
I began patting down her pockets, looking for her keys. Feeling the tell-tale bulge in the right front of her pants, I put my hand in, having to force it the pants were so tight, and finally felt the cold metal of the keys. It took a few moments of stern yanking before they popped free. Using the dome light I searched through the ring and finally identified a likely house key.
I got out of the car and walked up to the door, quiet as a mouse, and inserted the key into the deadbolt lock. It wouldn't turn. With a curse I pulled it out and searched through the ring again, locating another prospect. This one did the trick. I released the bolt and pulled the key free. I then tried the doorknob, finding it to be locked too. Using the first key I unlocked that and gave the knob a quick turn to make sure it would open. Knowing that Nina had a cat that was not supposed to be outside, I did not open the door just yet, although that would have made my task easier.
I quickly returned back to the car and opened the passenger door. I shoved the keys back into Nina's pocket and then reached down and picked her up, cradling her like a baby. This was easy since she only weighed about a hundred pounds or so. Even in her stupor her arm automatically went around my neck.
Tiptoeing I walked up to the door and, after considerable twisting and stretching, managed to get my hand on the doorknob. With the layout of the Blackmore house in my mind, giving me the fastest route to her bedroom and back out, I turned the knob and pushed open the door, prepared to make the dash.
"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
My eyes looked up to the lighted box next to the front door. An alarm code box. As soon as I heard the noise and saw the box a memory came to me, a memory of the days before our breakup, when Nina's mother used to drive us to this house after school to study. I remembered either Nina or her mother punching in a code as soon as the door was unlocked. A code that shut off the infernal beeping before the alarm would start to ring. How in the hell had I forgotten about that?
I shook her up and down, trying to rouse her. "Nina." I whispered frantically into her ear. "What's the code for your alarm?"
"Huh?" She croaked, her glassy eyes creaking open a quarter of an inch or so.
"What's the damn alarm code?" I asked desperately.
She giggled. "That's funny." She went back to sleep.
"Nina!" I barked louder.
A bedroom door opened from down the hall. A light clicked on.
"Nina?" Came Jack Blackmore's voice. "Turn off the damn alarm! What's the matter with you?"
Footsteps began to approach. Mary's voice spoke up. "Jack? What's wrong? Why is the alarm going off?"
I could only stand there as Jack came around the corner. He was dressed in gray sweatpants and was shirtless, the surgical scar on his chest standing out like a zipper. His eyes locked onto me standing there and holding his unconscious daughter in my arms.
"Christ Almighty." He muttered, tromping over. He punched in a code and the beeping fell silent.
"Jack?" Came Mary's voice from the bedroom. "Is everything all right?"
Jack looked at me carefully for a moment and then at Nina, who was snoring drunkenly again. I wondered if he was going to go get his hunting rifle and blow me away right there or if he would at least give me a running start.
"Is she okay?" He asked tonelessly.
"Uh…" I stammered.
"She smells like a damn brewery. Is she okay?"
"She had a little too much to drink." I finally admitted.
Mary came around the corner. She was dressed in a long cotton nightgown and pulling a robe around her body. She took in the scene before her and walked carefully into the living room.