A Five-Minute Life

“Right?” Thea said. “If you’re going to party, then par-tay.”

Soon enough, Thea was the party. She had the bartender line up shots not only for us but our neighbors at the bar. I hesitated befo

re taking mine.

“I’m keeping you wild, Jimmy,” Thea said. “Don’t give up on me.”

I cocked my head at her choice of words, but in the end, she wanted this night, and I wanted to give it to her. We knocked back the shots in unison. The tequila went down smooth and I was suddenly hot all over. The dance music thumped so loudly, I could feel it in my pulse.

Another shot followed the first, and I tried to keep track, to make sure Thea wasn’t overdoing it. Hell, I needed not to overdo it. But she slammed back a glass of water and then tugged on my hand.

“Come dance.”

I shook my head. “I don’t dance. It’s just not in my DNA.”

She pouted, then bounded off with her new friends. She danced with abandon, laughing, her eyes lit up and a thin sheen of sweat glistened over her skin.

More drinks followed, and the alcohol did what alcohol does—make bad shit feel a million miles away and consequences even further. I lost track of how many drinks were pressed on me while trying to keep track of Thea’s. But as promised, she had a water glass in her hand more often than a cocktail and I relaxed. The enormous space was a pulsing box of light and sound. People talking, bodies dancing, flashing lights, and the pounding beat of one song after another.

The night began to break into pieces and time became a nebulous thing, stretching out and contracting. I felt as if I were underwater. Thea swam up like a mermaid with her long hair loose and flowing.

“Hey, baby.” She put her arms around my neck and kissed me wetly, tasting of some sweet cocktail I couldn’t remember her ordering.

Maybe it’s the same as the one in your hand.

I looked down. A mai tai? The fuck. I didn’t drink mai tais.

“I have to piss,” I slurred. “Watch our stuff?”

“Anything for you,” she said and plopped heavily onto one of the stools.

I slipped out of my jacket—why the fuck was I still wearing it? It was hot as hell in here. I stumbled through a morass of people to the bathroom and took a piss—mostly hitting the target. I washed my hands and peered blearily at the reflection in the mirror. There were two of me and I had to squint one eye to focus.

Time to call it.

I somehow found my way back through the crowd to Thea. “I’m drunk,” I stated.

“Me too,” she said, but her eyes looked clear. Or maybe it was the shifting lights.

“Let’s go,” I said.

A shadow seemed to cross her face before she smiled tipsily at me.

“One more dance,” she shouted in my ear. “Please, Jimmy,” she said. Begged. “I don’t want this night to end.”

“Thea…” But she was already gone, dancing to a song I put on my phone for her at Blue Ridge, a million years and a lifetime ago. “BOOM” by the Ambassadors. No, that wasn’t right. There was an X in it. The X-Men. I chuckled then peered around for Thea.

She was a mirage of blue and gold on the dance floor that was full of dark, writhing bodies. Demons moving around her, intent on swallowing her up. I was drunk as shit but the fear found me anyway.

Something’s not right and you’re too wasted to figure it out, ya jackass.

What was wrong? I couldn’t put my finger on it, my thoughts were drowning in booze. I dragged my jacket back on and batted at the pockets to make sure my wallet and phone were still there.

Wallet, yes. Phone was missing.

“Shit.” I blearily searched the bar and the floor, nearly falling off the damn stool.

Thea returned.