You make out with your best friend at a party

“Kathy, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” Andrew says looking up at you, head in your lap on the couch.

He, and the others, were probably the reason you never bothered with boyfriends. You got enough male attention from your friends. Sometimes you made out with them when you got drunk. They were cute after all. But you couldn’t date them. You knew them too well.

You were back home for the weekend and at Justin’s house the night before you had to take a Praxis exam, one of the tests you needed to pass to get your teaching license for when you graduated. Michelle, your cousin, was your designated driver. You trusted her to make sure you didn’t get too wasted.

“Kathy, why won’t you love me back?” Andrew drunkenly whines at you.

“You know I love you so stop that,” you say.

“Yes, but you won’t really love me, you know?”

“You’re like family, babe. That’s just not gonna happen. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“Fine, well at least give me a peck.”

You lean down and kiss him on the lips quickly before you tell him to get up and get another drink with you. He obliges and you head back into the kitchen where the beer Olympics tournament is picking up. Carlos and Evan are running the table.

“Alright who’s up next?” Evan says after another victory.

You take a detour to the back patio where Ian is outside begging Michelle to put in a good word for him with you. He doesn’t understand why you won’t be his girlfriend already. You thought it was cute most of your male friends tried to be your boyfriend especially after you would watch them drunkenly sleepwalk and try to pee on things. You’d let other girls deal with their boyish antics.

You go back into Justin’s kitchen and hide all the knives in his washing machine like you usually did at parties so the boys wouldn’t try to shotgun things.

“Kat, come here,” Carlos calls out to you. Evan must have ditched him and he needed a pong partner. Everyone knew the drunker you were the easier it was for you to sink cups.

Carlos is like a puppy who has ADHD. Frantic, fast-talking, tons of energy, loving, innocent. He has dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He’s taller than most of your friends and has small gauges in his ears. He’s in shape from playing soccer like the rest of the boys do.

You win game after game, but keep drinking through it all anyway. You get so drunk that you go up to Justin’s cat on the front steps where it’s quiet and watch as it scratches you, but you don’t feel anything. You bend down and pet her and she keeps scratching. You notice you’re bleeding and laugh.

Carlos sees your arm when you pass each other in the hallway and asks Justin for bandages .

“Let’s patch you up here, babe,” he says as he wraps up your arm in the sunroom away from everyone else.

You look up at him and wonder why you’ve never kissed. Carlos usually has a girlfriend, but right now he doesn’t. You know he’d try to wife you up if you ever came on to him, but you think he looks so cute right now you might not mind.

“You’re hot,” you say.

“Oh you think so?” he says surprised and starting to blush, eyes still glued to the arm he’s wrapping.

“Yup. Come with me.”

He finishes bandaging you and you grab his hand and drag him upstairs to one of the many empty bedrooms. You close the door and feel around for each other in the darkness. You find each other and meet lips. You find the bed, push him down so he’s sitting on it then hop on his lap, straddling him. You make out for a while. He feels you up and tries to unbutton your pants but you smack his hand and tell him that’s not going to happen. He happily keeps kissing you. You go on like that for a while then snap back into it.

“Fuck, what time is it, Car?”

“1:35. Why what’s up?”

“Fuck. I told Michelle we were supposed to leave at 12.” You check your phone and find 15 missed calls. “Wait 5 minutes then come downstairs.”

You find the door, open it and walk downstairs. Michelle is waiting at the bottom of the steps for you.


“You’re in trouble, missy!” she says playfully. “Who were you with, hm??”

“Fucking Carlos. He’s so cute.”

“Okay well let’s say goodbye to everyone cause you need to get back home.”

You travel around, kissing everyone on the cheek twice goodbye because in your own drunken words, “This is France now, bitches.”

Finally you get back to the front door where you find Carlos.

“Let me walk you to your car,” he says.

He does and when you get to the passenger door he grabs you and kisses you on the mouth.

Carlos would never be your boyfriend, but he would be one of your best friends. He’d take you out and make you feel special when Paul dumped you then again when you broke up with Mike. You’d spend Saturday nights at the bar then head back to your mom’s afterward and cuddle in your bed. In 2019 you’d attend his wedding to his perfect and amazing wife, Vanessa. She was both more beautiful and patient than you. Jesse would tell you something in Carlos’ eyes was sad when you finally got to congratulate him and say goodnight.

-by gothicfairyprincess

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