Chapter 10

An eternity seemed to pass as Mikey and I

stared each other down. That moment, more than any other before or

since, was the single second when I knew our friendship was

changing. I was moving on, coming into my own, becoming myself and

no longer a part of him.

Then RC slapped me on the back and laughed.

“You boys have fun,” he said, heading into the dining room after

Mr. Pierce. He didn’t look back, didn’t invite me to join him, and

the moment was lost.

“Come on,” Mikey said again. When I

took a step toward him, he turned and hurried to the stairs. “Jeez,

these bottles are damn cold, I’m telling you.”

And I was eighteen again, on the cusp of

manhood, snickering with my best friend as we stole some bottles of

beer right out from under the watchful eye of his dad without

anyone knowing. I had the rest of my life to grow up. I didn’t have

to do it tonight.

* * * *

Upstairs Mikey showed me what he had snagged.

Two bottles of dark Killian’s Red beer were tucked into the

waistband of his jeans and held against his belly when he crossed

his arms. Both front pockets of his jeans held ice cold cans of

Miller’s Light. Before I even managed to get his bedroom door shut

behind me, Mikey was already dumping his spoils onto his bed. “Two

each,” he said, popping open one of the cans. It made a refreshing

snapI would have sworn was heard downstairs, but despite

the way my heart pounded in my chest, neither Mr. Pierce nor his

buddies came storming up to demand we return their beer. Almost

giddy with excitement, I hurried to the bed as Mikey threw back his

head to gulp down his first can. By the time he was reaching for

one of the chilly bottles, my own can was half-empty.

The beer was smoother than I anticipated. I

wasn’t sure exactly what I expected—something wicked, perhaps,

something heady, that would knock me on my ass after the first

swig—but that wasn’t what happened. The first rush of cold brew hit

me in the back of my throat, the suds tickling the inside of my

nose, but I didn’t taste anything alcoholic about it. Then again,

it was a lightbeer, after all. The next swallow chilled my

teeth.

Thenit kicked in, and I felt the

warmth of the booze slither down my throat like a serpent,

breathing fire along the center of my chest to curl into the pit of

my stomach. Each breath I took, the serpent fanned its flames,

extending its reach throughout my body, warming first my gut, then

my groin, then my arms and legs, my feet, my fingers. My dick

stiffened in my jeans as if getting its own buzz on independent

from the soft ringing that now filled my ears. Throwing back the

rest of the can, I nodded as if this wasn’t the first beer I’d ever

had. “Aww, yeah.”

With a laugh, Mikey punched me in the

shoulder. I made a half-hearted move to shove him back, but ended

up reaching for the last bottle on the bed. The cap twisted off

easily, and the cool mist that swirled up from the longneck sent a

delicious thrill through me. The Killian’s tasted worlds better

than the light beer had—I found myself sipping at it slowly,

savoring each mouthful, letting it fill me completely before

drinking it down. I wanted this bottle to last all night.

Mikey had other plans. “You get the next

ones,” he said, digging through a stack of DVDs beside his

television. “You want to watch Saw? Open the pizza.”

The pizza box sat beside me on Mikey’s bed.

“Saw? Again?” Mikey loved scary films and the Saw

series was one of his favorites. While I could appreciate horror

flicks, I wasn’t in the mood for blood and guts, not with a belly

full of beer and a pizza covered in pepperonis so red, they might

have doubled as special effect props for a low-budget movie. With a

faint buzzing in my ears and my head beginning to swim, I reached

for a slice of pizza and asked, “How about Alien? We haven’t

seen that in forever. And what do you mean, I get the next

ones?”

“The next round of beers,” Mikey said, as if

we were in a pub and it was my turn to pay. He must’ve seen

disbelief on my face because he laughed as he stuck a DVD into his

player. “Relax. By the time we’re ready for more, Dad’s friends

will be too busy with their game to notice you sneak downstairs.

I’m putting in Aliens. It’s better than the first movie

anyway.”

I barely heard him. The thought of sneaking

downstairs to steal more beers terrified me. What if Mr. Pierce

chose that exact moment to enter the kitchen for a refill himself?

Or if one of his friends caught me? Clutching the neck of my

bottle, I swore to pace myself. As long as I still had some beer

left to drink, I’d have an excuse not to go get Mikey another. With

any luck, we’d get so caught up in the movie that he’d forget all

about sending me down for more drinks.