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Hugo obediently takes the beer, and I hand one to Lucas before popping one open myself. I take a long sip as I listen to the sound of clinking glasses, laughter, conversations and the splashing of liquid. Then a noise louder than all of those breaks through the clamour.
“Charlie! And you brought Lucas and Hugo!” Gilly emerges from the crowd with his arms spread, one hand holding a bottle of beer. “Legends, you made it.”
“Thanks for the invite,” Hugo says.
Gilly waves his hand. “It was nothing. The more the merrier, that’s what I say. Welcome to the party! Come out to the back.”
Gilly leads us through the throng of students, telling Hugo a story with his hands moving wildly. Lucas and I follow behind them, and he nudges me with his elbow.
“Having fun?” he asks.
“We’ll see.”
He smiles. When I first brought up the fact that Gilly invited us to a party, he seemed hesitant, even if he didn’t say it. But when I said I’d go, he agreed to come too.
The backyard has slightly overgrown grass and a lemon tree in the corner. We follow Gilly into the garage, which has its door open, where a ping pong table sits.
“Beer pong!” Gilly announces. “We’re playing next,” he says, raising his voice loud enough so everyone nearby hears him.
“I’ve never played before.” As soon as I say it, I realise I basically admitted to not having been to many parties. I tense self-consciously, but no one reacts, except for Lucas.
“Team up with me,” he says. “I’ll win for us.”
When it’s our turn to use the table, Lucas and I stand on one side of the table, Gilly and Hugo on the other. The flickering garage light casts an eery shadow on the blue surface, and the wafting smells of cigarettes and weed are distracting to me, but Lucas lines up the beer cups with precision.
After everything is set up, he straightens up. "You ready to win, Charlie?”
“You’re awfully confident,” I say.
“Too confident,” Gilly shouts from the other end of the table. “Hugo, let’s show them how it’s done.”
“Um, just so you know, I’m not really good at throwing things,” Hugo begins. “Or anything to do with hand-eye coordination. Just warning you —”
“Chill, you’ll be fine,” Gilly interrupts. He leans over and gives us a look. “Prepare to be humbled.”
I quirk a smile despite myself.
Lucas starts, and the ping pong ball leaves his fingertips, arcing through the air before landing in one of the cups on the other side. I cheer, along with some of the people on the sidelines, as Gilly picks up the cup and chugs it.
Gilly goes next, and he’s just as good as Lucas. Lucas drinks the cups. I miss when it’s my turn, the ping-pong ball bouncing off the edge, not even close to the cups.
“Don’t worry,” Lucas says while Gilly teases me from the other end. “I’ll give you some tips next time.”
Then Hugo goes, and his throw is equally terrible, which makes me feel a little better. I grin at him while he covers his mouth with a hand, embarrassed. “I told you, I don’t have any hand-eye coordination!” he says to no-one in particular.
The next time I throw the ball, Lucas reaches over and positions my hand and arm. His skin is surprisingly cool against mine, and I look up at him as he explains the technique.
“Don’t throw too hard,” he says. “Otherwise it’ll go flying. Release the ball when your hand is about here. Try the movement. Okay, a little more powerful than that…”
He’s so…
He’s just so…
There’s so many words I could use. But in the darkness of night, half of his face illuminated by a yellow lightbulb hanging from the garage roof, all I can think is pretty.
The way he’s instructing me is sweet and encouraging, and I’m reminded of how he made those primary school kids laugh in glee when he held them up to the top of the volleyball net.
He releases my hand, and I realise a second too late that I’m meant to throw the ball. I do, and somehow, it smacks into Gilly’s stomach.
