19 February 2020

Score: Drinking Games - Kidd G

Lydia

"You owe me, cunts!" Gloria leans against the doorframe, cocking her brow and crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I was the only one at dinner with the old folks. I had to lie to Headmaster Farrell, telling him that Alex and Nate went for a night ride with you guys, instead of playing Slytherin the Hufflepuff since we got here..." She says the last words a little too loudly, cocking her head to the door opposite the hallway. Mark and I share a glance and burst out laughing. Gloria joins in shortly, rejoicing that she managed to pull off a Harry Potter joke about sex.

"Oh, great! Shots!" Gloria claps her hands and walks in, then props herself on the armrest of the sofa.

I watch as Mark picks up the water glasses, resting on the dresser, next to the plates of food, and fills four to about one-third with vodka. He then checks the minibar fridge, taking out some ice.

Great. I haven't drunk in a long time, but I have drunk before, mainly wine and champagne. I have never drunk vodka before. Oh, well, I guess there's a first for everything.

Mark hands everyone a glass, pulling his eyebrows into a frown, as he hands Patrick one. I can't help but wonder why these two dislike each other. Is it only in my head? Or, is it just teenage boys' bickering?

Ever since Patrick joined our school last year, he's been a part of our group with Gloria, Alex and Nate. He's a really nice guy and our parents clicked, I think. The fact that his father is the only heir to an earldom also helps, I suppose.

Patrick's really sweet and nice, though I sometimes have the feeling he's not always sunshine and butterflies, even though he doesn't show it. He's way too polished for Gloria's dirty mouth, or for my father's bullshit, but he's been nothing but kind to all of us since we met.

Also, I have to admit to myself, I had a pretty good time talking to him over dinner tonight. And I'm definitely starting to believe Gloria about the whole "he fancies you" thing.

I glance at him over the edge of my glass and catch him staring at me. His ears go aflame instantaneously, and the blush spreads to his cheeks and neck, too. How adorable! I wink at him and smile and he seems to relax a little.

"C'mon, then, let's start the party." Mark says.

We all stand around the table, glasses in hand.

"Cheers to two less virgins!" Gloria yells loud enough for Headmaster Farrell to hear. We burst into laughter.

"To the weekend." Patrick raises his glass.

"To being here, all of us together." I say, turning around to face everybody. I catch Mark's eye and smile at him, raising my drink.

"To you." Mark clinks his glass to mine, looking straight into my eyes.

I stand there, still smiling, waiting for him to continue the toast. But he's just staring at me, his eyes unreadable. My smile falls a little and I can feel myself blush all over. Why is it suddenly so hot in here? I lower my glass, feeling the awkwardness spread across the room.

But then, Mark clears his throat and raises his glass again.

"And you, and you." He nods towards Gloria and Patrick.

Oh. I I look down at my feet.

The awkward feeling is still gnawing at me, but I throw my head back and take a hearty swig from my glass.

The unfamiliar burn of the vodka travels from my lips to my throat and my chest. I nearly choke on it, but I manage to keep it down. It burns like whisky, but it tastes much, much worse. I quickly grab my can of coke and chase the vodka down with the sweet, bubbly liquid. I look around to see everyone staring at me.

"What?" I say, feeling a pleasant warmth spread from my stomach throughout my body.

"Nothing" Gloria raises her hands in front of her chest. "I just didn't think you'd drink straight vodka the first time you try it." She says, pouring coke in her drink.

Oh. I do the same and it definitely tastes better and doesn't burn half as much. It actually tastes pretty good.

In less than fifteen minutes, I need a top-up.

"Whoa, Lyds, slow down!" Mark says, but pours me another drink anyway.

Suddenly brave, I look at Patrick, sitting opposite me across the coffee table. What is it with him that is driving me crazy? But, for once, he's not looking at me. He's in the middle of an intense stare-off with Mark.

Okay. There's definitely something going on between those two. I have to know what.

"Does any of you have cards?" Mark asks, not tearing his eyes off Patrick.

"Yay! Drinking games!" Gloria jumps from her spot on the armrest and rushes into our bedroom to bring cards. She emerges from the room, carrying a leather bound card games set and hands it to Mark.

"Let's see" he says, shuffling the deck. "We're too few to play Killer. I really don't want to know about your sex lives." He points a finger at Gloria and me, lifting his eyebrows, "So, Give and Take is out, too." He lifts his head and cocks it to one side, squinting his eyes, as if he's thinking. "So, we're left with Screw the Neighbour."

"Sounds exciting!" Gloria says, scooting closer to Patrick.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth, Gloria." Mark says, smiling. "It's not like that."

He flips the deck so that the numbers are up and starts taking cards out.

"The rules are pretty simple." Mark continues, laying cards on the table. "Your goal is not to end up with the lowest card." He lays some cards with the numbers and pictures up, pointing at them, as he continues. "King is the highest and Ace is the lowest. We'll take turns being the dealer. At the start of every round, the dealer deals each player a card. The player to the dealer's left", Mark points at Patrick, "starts the round by looking at their card and deciding whether they pass and keep their card, or swap their card with the next person in the circle." He moves his eyes over to Gloria. "That person then does the same, and so no. When the game goes back to the dealer, they either swap their card with the top card of the deck or pass. In the end, we all flip our cards over, and the one with the lowest card, drinks." He shrugs his shoulders. "It's pretty straightforward, I think."

Gloria claps her hands together. "Let's get smashed!" She says, leaning forward to collect the card Mark's already dealt her for round one, from the table.

Gloria loses the first round, holding an ace, and she complains it doesn't make any sense for the ace to be the lowest card, but drinks anyways.

The next couple of rounds go pretty quickly, and Patrick and I drink, in turn.

"Next round!" Mark announces, gathering the cards from the table and handing the deck to me. "You're the dealer, Caramel." He flashes his boyish grin at me and my heart suddenly warms. Or, is it the vodka?

I clear my throat and deal the cards.

Mark, sitting at my left, looks at his card and passes. Patrick swaps his card for Gloria's.

"Bastard..." Gloria says under her breath and then immediately takes my card from my hands and hands me hers.

"Hey!" I object, frowning at the Four of Hearts in my hands. Dammit! She took my Queen of Spades!

I glare at her and she just smirks.

I reach for the deck and draw a card.

Three of Clubs. Dammit! I'm definitely going to lose this round. And I'm already feeling tipsy.

I sigh and flip my card over. Gloria does the same, showing off my Queen of Spades with a grin, and Patrick's card is a Six of Spades.

We all turn our eyes to Mark, but he simply collects our cards from the table and puts them back in the deck, putting his own card at the bottom. Then, with the deck still in his hand, he reaches for his glass, tips his head back and finished his drink.

I move my eyes to Gloria and Patrick, who are still staring at Mark.

"What?" Mark asks, shuffling the deck.

"We didn't see your card, man." Patrick says.

"Oh, didn't you? Sorry, I thought I showed it to you." He says, still shuffling the deck. "It was an Ace of Spades."

"Why didn't you swap it with mine, then." Patrick asks, squinting his eyes.

Mark shrugs his shoulders.

"Got distracted. By the time I figured I was screwed, it was already late."

I look at him, disbelief coursing through me. Something's not right. Mark is a brilliant card player. He's a poker prodigy, boasting that he's only lost two hands in poker, since he turned sixteen. I've seen him play. He doesn't get distracted. He's like a surgeon in the operating theatre. Focused to a point.

But he just deals the next round and that's that.

I frown and shoot Gloria a glance, but she just shrugs her shoulders.

We continue playing, until everyone's a little tipsy. OK, I'm drunk. I can feel the room tip on one edge and I grow bubblier by the minute.

I can't even remember how many rounds of Screw the Neighbour we've played. All I know is I have emptied my glass more than once. Although, I am positive Mark lost a couple of rounds deliberately, just so I don't drink and he does. It gets boring, I suppose, when everyone's getting drunk and you're not. That's why he probably did it.

"Oh, shoot, I've lost, again!" Gloria laughs, tipping her head back and taking a shot of straight vodka. We finished the cokes some time ago. Mark said he'd go get some more from the bar, but we didn't want to stop playing.

"OK, final round, and then, I'm going through that door and going to bed!" Mark shouts across the hallway. I check the time on my phone. It's past midnight already. Fuck, I wanted to wake up early and hit the slopes in the morning.

I take the card that Patrick deals me. The picture is all blurry. The room is starting to spin faster and faster. Suddenly, I feel my limbs heavy and almost numb. What is happening to me?

I barely notice Gloria taking my card from my hand again and handing me hers. Everyone's done with the round and we flip our cards over. Oh, shit, how haven't I noticed I was holding a Two of Clubs?

"Oh, no, it's your turn again, Lydia!" Gloria claps her hands, laughing. "Drink! Drink! Drink!"

I reach for my glass, but Mark snatches it away from my hands.

"You've had enough, Lydia!" He says, glaring at me.

"It's for the game!" I slur, trying to take my glass from his hands. "I have to."

"The game is over!" Mark says, lifting my glass up in the air, where I cannot reach it. "And you're going to bed now."

"No! I'm not tired! Give me my glass back! I need to finish the game!"

"Here." Mark tosses me a water bottle he took from the minibar earlier. "That's the only drink you're having for the rest of the night."

"No, I'm not!" I grit my teeth, reaching across the table and grabbing Patrick's glass.

Patrick lifts his surprised eyes from his glass to me. Gloria claps her hand over her mouth and starts laughing hysterically. Mark tries to take the glass from my hand, but I turn my head to the side and put the glass to my lips before he reaches me. I feel the burn of the vodka down my throat, and then turn back to the table and put the glass down, bottom-up, showing that it's empty.

I turn to face Mark with a smirk. He looks at me, shaking his head disapprovingly.

I want to say something smart, but, as I open my mouth, only a loud burp escapes. It's getting harder and harder to focus on Mark's face. Everything's going blurry.

Suddenly, I clamp my hand over my mouth and jump to my feet. I run to the bathroom and barely make it to the toilet, before I start heaving.

Seconds later, I feel two small hands grab my hair and push it out of my face. Gloria's laughter and Mark's and Patrick's worried shouts are the last thing I hear, before the world goes blank.