Biker's Virgin

I shook my head. It was ridiculous to think there was even a possibility there might be something between her and me. We were just too different. Regardless of any attraction that might have existed between us, it wasn’t enough.

I stood from my seat in the bathroom, pushing all thoughts of Brooke out of my head. After I washed my face with a little cold water, I wandered back to join everyone laughing and drinking. I grabbed another beer from the fridge, popped the top off, and took a deep swig of the crisp liquid. The night was really getting started so I figured, screw it—might as well go along with it and enjoy the ride.

***

“One more shot, E, one more! C'mon, bro, you can do it!”

My knees started to buckle beneath me. I was wasted. My vision was definitely getting more than a little blurry around the edges, too. Still, I wasn't about to let Chris stay ahead of me in the shots race. I was three behind and I needed to catch up. Melissa was hanging all over me again, only at that point, I was too drunk to care. I picked up the shot glass filled to the brim with Jägermeister, stared at it for a while with a goofy grin pasted across my face, and then opened my mouth and chucked the shot in, sucking it down immediately.

As soon as the booze vanished down my throat, I felt bile rising up in reaction. I gritted my teeth and forced the bitter liquid back down. I wasn't about to puke and ruin the evening.

“Alright, bro, ladies, are y'all ready to hit the club?!” Chris shouted, his deep-toned voice drowning out the pumping tune ripping through our speakers.

“Woo!” the girls shrilled.

I heard the strange sound of my own voice, raspy and harsh, joining the chorus of approval coming from Melissa and her friends.

“Yeah! Let's do it, then!” bellowed Chris. “An Uber driver is on the way; c'mon, yo, downstairs, downstairs!”

Melissa hooked her arm through mine as we stumbled out of the apartment, but I didn't really care. As wasted as I was, I knew nothing was gonna happen between us. I was determined, even in this state, not to let anything happen. At least she was as drunk as I was, and I knew she couldn't hold her liquor too well. The way I had it figured, after another drink or two, she'd just pass out anyway, and then I wouldn't have to worry about her. I still felt kind of queasy, but I also felt amped to dance; the energy drink I'd slammed twenty minutes earlier had boosted a hefty dose of caffeine into my veins.

As we were stumbling past Brooke's apartment, I couldn't help but pause and listen for a moment. I thought I heard something I recognized—the opening theme for Game of Thrones, my favorite TV show. I couldn't help wondering who was watching it—Leslie or Brooke?

Did Brooke actually have more of a personality than study nerd? Was it possible that we actually had more in common than we thought we did? I didn't know anyone besides myself who was as crazy interested in Game of Thrones as I was. Hell, I'd even read the books—and I'm not really one for reading books.

I didn't have much time to think about it because I soon felt an impatient tugging on my arm.

“Emerson,” whined Melissa, “come on! What are you doing just standing there? You look like you’re in a different place.”

“Um, I just, uh, I just thought I heard something I recognized.”

She paused and listened. “Oh yeah, I've heard that song before. That's that show about demon hunters, right?”

“What?” I shook my head.

“It's uh, I've heard it… Wait, wait, don't tell me.”

“You don't know this.”

“I do! Just give me a second to try remember.”

I waited, rolling my eyes as she wracked her brain trying to place the song.

“What's that called again? Vampire something. No… Supernatural?”

I shook my head and sighed. “Game of Thrones, Mel, Game of Thrones.”

She grimaced with distaste. “Oh, my God, yeah. The one with swords and medieval shit. God, what a dorky show! Who watches that crap? Ugh, it's like so… complicated. And you've got to be some sorta uber-nerd to go for boring, lame-ass stuff like that. I mean, seriously… dragons and swords and like old-days boringness? Puh-lease. Your new neighbors must be total losers!” she laughed.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head again. “Yeah. They’re the losers, all right. Come on. Driver is here.”

Chapter Five

Brooke

Hangovers. The exact reason I rarely drink hard liquor. I woke up the next morning with a dry mouth and a bit of a headache… and that was from drinking wine. I’m such a lightweight. I really should have had a tall glass of water before hitting the sack after all the wine I drank.

The sun was already peeking through the cracks between my curtains. Based on the angle of the shadows, it was already getting fairly high in the sky. That meant it was way past my usual wake up time.