Free A Different Kind by Lauryn April Page A

two of you a couple of beers?”
    “We’re avoiding the keg.” Jo tilted her head toward Jared.
    Ian looked over his shoulder. “Ah, yeah I don’t blame you…I have a better idea.”
    Ian led us through the house and down the stairs. Jared had a finished basement with a TV the size of an elephant and a personal bar. All the seats at the bar were filled as my classmates twirled on the barstools. Violent images flashed across the TV screen as a group of guys played some war-themed video game. Behind them a long table was set up, where a game of beer pong was coming to an end.
    Jo and I followed Ian across the room to a table where a large punch bowl was filled with red liquid. Orange slices floated on its surface, and a stack of red cups sat on the table beside it. Ian poured both Jo and me a cup. I smiled as he handed me mine, but Jo was more cautious taking hers.
    “Ever heard the phrase ‘don’t drink the wop?’” she asked.
    Ian laughed. “I made it myself; it’s safe, I swear. It’s not even really that strong. Mostly Hawaiian Punch.”
    “Alright, I’ll trust you.” She took a small sip.
    I didn’t share Jo’s worries and took a large gulp from my glass. The three of us hung out for a while, talking about the football game and the Homecoming dance. Jo and I played a game of beer pong against Ian and won. Then, as we were refilling our glasses from the punch bowl, Jared appeared.
    “Ian man, I see you’re hanging out with my ex.” Jared wrapped an arm around Ian’s shoulder.
    Ian narrowed his eyes. “No, Jare, I’m hanging out with my date to Homecoming and my friend Jo.”
    “Oh, you and Jo are friends now, wow, aren’t you popular.”
    “Don’t you have somewhere else you can be?” Jo asked.
    “Yeah, like, I don’t know, helping some slutty sophomore do a keg stand?” I added.
    “Oh, how cute,” Jared slurred. “Someone’s jealous.”
    “Hardly.”
    “Look Jared, why don’t you find something else to do?” Ian suggested.
    Jared clenched his jaw, then patted Ian on the back and stepped away from us. “You know what, I will. You can have her; just watch out for Logan Reed. The little freak has a crush on her.”
    “Jare, just go,” Ian said.
     
    T he next few hours went by in a blur of tipsy laughter, stumbling steps, and giddy dancing. I remember hugging Jo and tripping over the rug. I remember Ian catching me, and laughing so hard I cried. I jumped up and down and swayed to the music.
    At some point Ian and I were separated from Jo. We found ourselves alone in an office in the basement. Ian had shut the door, and we sat on a leather couch making out.
    By then the not-so-strong punch was feeling a lot stronger than Ian had suggested. That or I’d just had too many glasses of it. Either way the alcohol had my whole world spinning. I felt light and giggly. Even as Ian kissed me I wanted to smile, though part of that was simply because he was Ian. I scooted back on the couch and fell backwards into the cushions. When Ian nearly fell onto the floor I laughed, realizing he was as drunk as I was. He quickly regained his balance again, and I giggled as he kissed my neck.
    I felt Ian’s hand moving up my side, his fingers gripping my hip. He kissed me on the lips again, harder this time, and suddenly all lightness vanished. Pinned beneath him on the couch I tried to push him back, but he didn’t budge. As his hand started to trail beneath my cheerleading skirt, I pushed at him. Hard.
    I liked Ian, I enjoyed kissing him, and part of me wanted to keep going, but things were just moving too fast, and my brain couldn’t keep up to process if I wanted all of it.
    “Stop,” I said, and Ian instantly pulled away from me.
    “What’s wrong?” Ian asked.
    I stared at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. When I sat up the room spun.
    “This is just all moving a little fast, don’t you think?”
    Ian smiled. His crooked grin reminded me how much we’d had to drink that night. “I don’t