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I get out of my car and walk up to the front door that’s wide open. As I enter the house, I see various costume choices and start feeling better about my own. There are people dressed as Marvel characters on one side of the big room. The whole cast ofStranger Thingsis on the other side. A group of girls who consider lingerie to be a Halloween costume are scattered throughout. And, per usual, there are the rebels who are wearing their everyday clothes.
The place is packed with people, half of whom I don’t recognize. There’s loud techno music blaring from a built-in surround sound system, and strobe lights are streaming in one half of the house. Overall, the place looks like a full-out rave, and I’ll be surprised if the police don’t show up before the end of the night.
“Hey, everyone, the birthday boy is here!” Tim walks over. He’s dressed as a cowboy and carrying two drinks with him.
“Hey, man. This place is insane,” I say as he hands me one of the drinks.
“I know, right? And look who was able to make it after all.” Tim nudges his head toward the kitchen. “Brian, get over here!”
Brian turns, and the second he sees me, his whole face lights up. “Nate, my man! Raced here as soon as my game ended. Twenty-one to nothing, I’d like to add.”
“Holy shit.” I grin. Even though things have felt off since the last time I saw him, the man is still my best friend. It wouldn’t feel right to celebrate my twenty-first birthday without him. And who knows, maybe tonight will help smooth things over between us. “Really glad you’re here. And congratulations on the win.”
“Fuck yeah! I wouldn’t miss my best friend’s twenty-first birthday!” His hand lands on my shoulder as he shouts over the deafening music. “Are you ready to get fucked up tonight?”
“Hell yeah, but first, you need to do something for me.” I chug down the dark liquid in my cup, finishing the first of many drinks.
“What’s that?” Brian looks confused.
“You need to go change.”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” he asks, looking down at his clothes, which consist of a dark pair of denim jeans and a fitted white T-shirt.Not a Halloween costume.
“Nothing, except for the fact that you told me this was a costume party, hence the Superman ensemble that I have somehow squeezed my body into.” I use my hands to emphasize my outfit, making Brian laugh.
“Tsk. Tsk.” Tim nods in agreement, looking Brian up and down.
“You’re right. My bad.” He gulps down his drink and throws it to the side after finishing. “I’ll run home and see what I can find. Don’t start getting shit-faced without me.” He bulldozes his way through the crowd and out the front door at a record speed.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to Tim.
I begin to walk around, looking for the one person who will make this night even better. Natalie. And I don’t plan on letting her out of my sight once I find her, especially after what happened last year.Fuck. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever know what actually happened, but the memory alone is enough to make me nervous, and I don’t want to take any chances, so I pull my phone out of my tight spandex pocket.
Me: Hey are you here?
Natalie: Sorry running late. Be there in five minutes!
Me: No worries beautiful. What costume are you wearing?
Natalie: It’s a surprise.
“Nate!” I do a one-eighty and spot Paul making his way over to me among the mass of people. It’s hard to miss him when his head almost touches the ceiling.
“Hey, Paul, glad you could make it.” I reach my hand up to pat his shoulder, feeling ridiculously small next to him, which is a descriptor I rarely use for myself.
“Yeah, I hitched a ride with Brian. Wouldn’t want to miss your big birthday festivities. Nice costume,” he adds. “It suits you.”
“Thanks. Your costume is …” I look him up and down, trying to figure out who he’s supposed to be. “Well, actually, who are you?”
“Dude, I’m Jon Snow fromGame of Thrones. Obviously.” At almost seven feet tall, he stands with both hands on his hips, proudly displaying his costume. A faux fur cape hangs loosely around his broad shoulders, a fake black beard is taped to his face, and a plastic sword hangs from his basketball shorts.
Laughter fills me and I shake my head. “You don’t look anything like Jon Snow.”
“Why? Because I’m Black?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows.
“No, because you’re about three feet too tall.”
Paul busts out laughing before punching me humorously in the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you a drink. You need to get thoroughly plastered for your birthday.”
