Chapter One: Stuck
Summer was considered, by many college students, to be a time for drinking, partying, and having a care-free attitude. It was summer, after all. There were no classes to attend, no homework to scribble down five minutes before class, and no exams. Summer was party season, and the little house on the corner of Greenway and Norton Rd was no exception.
The air pulsed with a deafening beat. Music had been blaring from the little blue house on the corner since six o'clock and the party-goers had no intention of turning it down. Inside, bodies formed what would appear to scientists as a giant, gyrating amoeba. The air was hot and how these young adults could stand to be so close to each other on such a hot night was anyone's guess. The skin of everyone there was glistening with sweat and spilled beer. Beer bottles clinked and the frothy goodness was going everywhere. The couches and chairs were occupied by intoxicated partygoers, some chatting away, some passed out. The kitchen had been set up as a makeshift bar. Bottles of various alcohols covered the countertops and the fridge was filled with bottles and cans of beer. Entry into the party required only that you bring alcohol to share, be it a six pack or a bottle of liquor.
A rather rowdy man tipped his beer bottle and poured the contents all over the white blouse of his dance partner. The amber liquid splashed over her round breasts and she howled with drunken laughter. The male laughed heartily along with her, bending to lick the beer off the tops of her breasts. He searched for a place to dispose of his now empty bottle. In a drunken haze, he felt an open window was as good as any garbage can and with a quick toss, threw the brown bottle out the window, into the summer night.
The beer bottle landed with a crash next to a limp form on an aging porch swing. The sound jolted the young woman to consciousness. She sat upright in the swing, causing the swing to sway underneath her. It creaked and groaned until it came to rest. Holding onto the chains attaching the swing to the porch, she tried to steady herself. Her eyelids were half-closed in a drunken fog. Another loud bang came from nearby, this time, from the front door as it was kicked open by a trio of inebriated males. They all had their arms about the other's shoulders, laughing and carrying on as they tried desperately to figure out why all three of them could not fit through the front door together. Finally squeezing through, they stood on the porch, taking the last few swigs of their beer. One man, a bit heavyset, looked over at the petite woman sitting slumped in the porch swing.
"Hey there! What are you doin' out here all alone?" His slurred speech was accompanied by the strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes. As if to prove his status as a smoker, he pulled a pack from his pocket and with some difficulty, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. The woman looked up to give him a better look. He wore a leather jacket and tattered jeans. They were ripped at both knees. He was a bit pudgy with a round face and his unruly blonde hair hung around his face. Pulling the cigarette from his lips, he let out a plume of gray smoke. She watched it curl upward in slow motion. It took her a moment to realize he had asked her a question. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear away the fuzz of alcohol, she responded.
"I'm waiting for my ride." She wasn't sure how long she had been out here. In all honesty, she didn't even remember walking outside. Last she knew, she had been throwing back a shot of tequila. "What time is it?" She looked down at her watch, but the hands blurred into the face of the clock.
"Honey, its two in the mornin'." The man in leather sauntered over to her and slid in next to her on the swing. He offered her the cigarette in his hand but she politely refused and began digging in the pocket of her jeans for her cell phone. The pocket was empty. Fear gripped her and gave her a moment of clarity.
"Oh no! I've missed my ride. I told them I'd be out here by midnight." She began to panic, searching her other pockets and the swing for her cell phone. The man laughed and patted her shoulder.
"Was it a blue car, because some girl came looking for her friend?" The second man stepped over to join them. He was the complete opposite of his friend, lean muscle and dark hair. The third man who had come out with them went down the steps to the front lawn. He stumbled over to a large bush and unzipped himself. The young woman looked away, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. She was relieved the porch was dimly lit or else the flush in her face would have been evident. Turning her attention back to the two men next to her, she nodded.
"Yes, she was driving her blue Neon. Did anyone tell her where I was?" The blonde shrugged in response. The other man sat down next to her in the swing. He wore a red t-shirt and dark jeans. He too, smelled of beer. Unlike the blonde, he was slightly less intoxicated. His words did not slur together and he seemed rather coherent.
"Joey talked to her, I think. He said anyone who needed to, could crash here. Finding you in that mob would have been impossible. She probably left you to spend the night here." The blonde nodded in agreement. The woman slumped even further in the swing. Between the two large men, she seemed dwarfed and almost child-like. The blonde threw a thick arm around her. Heat radiated off of him.
