Free Never Eighteen by Megan Bostic

I'm sure dead people don't have bloodshot eyes. I have bloodshot eyes, and they hurt, but not as bad as my head. I promise myself never to drink again.
    I reach into the medicine cabinet, grab a couple of Tylenol, and take the stairs slowly, my head pounding with every step. I enter the kitchen and sit at the table, placing the pills carefully down beside me.
    "You got in late," Mom says. She's cooking something that on a normal day probably smells good. This morning it stinks, making me want to barf.
    "Did I?" I ask. Big mistake. My mom throws a glare my direction. Here it comes. I feel it.
    "You know, Austin—?" Yes, I knew it. "I don't know exactly what you were out doing all day yesterday and last night, but I hope whatever it was was worth it and not too self-destructive."
    "Did you put me to bed?" I ask, deciding to ignore her lecture.
    She lets out a heavy sigh and answers, "No, I was in bed myself when you got home." Just what I feared: Kaylee stripped my drunk ass out of my puke-covered clothes and put me to bed. I hope I hadn't said or done anything stupid, or pissed her off. I can't remember much after throwing up all over her car.
    "You want something to go with those?" my mom says. She gestures to the Tylenol sitting on the table.
    "OJ," I answer.
    She pours a tall glass and sets it down in front of me. "You hungry?"
    "Definitely not," I answer, my stomach churning with nausea.
    "You shouldn't go without breakfast."
    "A dry piece of toast then," I concede.
    I eat the toast and head back up to my room. As I'm leaving Mom asks, "So what's on the schedule for today?"
    "Same as yesterday," I answer, not looking in her direction purposely. I'm not in the mood for the cynical expression I know she's giving me. She doesn't stop me, which to me is a sign of resignation. I start to feel guilty. I turn back around. "Love you, Mom."
    "Love you too, kiddo," she says, not looking up from the dishes.
    I continue up the stairs to my room and lie back on my bed, wondering what I would feel like if I hadn't thrown up. When the Tylenol kicks in, I shower and begin to dress. My mother calls up.
    "Austin! I'm going to the store. You need anything?"
    "No!" I shout back.
    "Oh, and you have company!"
    "Be right down!" I answer. Kaylee. I must not have done too much damage to our relationship. I finish dressing: flannel shirt, shorts, wool socks, hiking boots. I double-check myself in the mirror and head downstairs.
    Instead of Kaylee, Allie is sitting on my living room couch.
    "Allie?"
    "Hi, Austin."
    I sit down beside her. "What's up?"
    She stands, paces, wrings her hands. Nervous. "Well, I was thinking." She takes a deep breath. "I appreciate you coming over yesterday, letting me vent and everything. I thought maybe you would want me to return the favor." "It wasn't a favor, Allie. You don't need to pay me back. I just want to help. I want to know that you're okay."
    "I know. I just thought I could do something for you in return," she says, approaching, kneeling, leaning on my thighs.
    "What, Allie? What do you want to do for me?"
    "What do I want to do for you?" she says, mostly to herself. "Well, it's more like something I want to give you."
    "What's that?"
    "Me."
    "What are you talking about?"
    "Well, you're a virgin, right?" she asks, now starting to caress my legs.
    "Allie, no."
    "I know you are. So, I just thought maybe you would like to, you know, know what you're doing, just in case you and Kaylee decide..." Her voice drops away.
    "No."
    "Yes," she says, getting quietly hysterical. "In case it happens for you and Kaylee, then it won't be weird, ya know? You'll know what to do, how to do it. We don't have to do it now. We can meet somewhere, or get a hotel room. Or you could come to my house. My parents are never home anyway."
    I stand up, grab her hands, fix my eyes on her black-eyeliner-laden ones. She's tearing up, wounded, offended in some way. I need to be careful with her.
    "Allie, listen. You're great, really. I don't