“Are you going to try it or not?” George asks me from his seat on the couch. I decided to come to his party after all, especially since Ethan is sleeping over at his friend Lance’s house.

George’s parents are out of town for the weekend, and they trusted their seventeen-year-old to stay at home and not throw a party. Big mistake.

The house has so many people in it that his parents wouldn’t know what hit them if they dared come home early. I take another gulp of my beer and set it down on the table.

I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good.”

“You gotta try it at least once,” Tyler shouts over the music, taking a hit of the joint in question.

“Seriously, dude. Try it and then you can check it off your list,” George says, trying to persuade me. Drugs aren’t on my list, but I’ve always wondered what makes them so attractive.

What makes them so good that my mother gives in to them every other day?

“Screw it,” I mutter under my breath. “Pass it over.”

Some would call it peer pressure; I’d call it research.

“Just remember: inhale, hold, and then release,” Tyler says, coaching me through it.

“Whatever.” I take a hit, holding it for as long as I can. When I release it though, I start coughing like crazy.

“Dude, breathe,” George says, laughing.

“Shut up,” I respond, still unable to stop myself from coughing. I grab my beer from the table and down it.

“The first time always sucks. Want to try it again?” George asks, looking down at the joint I’m trying to give back to him. I stare at it intently, basking in the sensation of floating that washes over me. I know my mom’s drug of choice is cocaine and sometimes heroin—whatever’s available, but that’s not what she started with. This was. The thought hits me out of nowhere, regret consuming me just as quickly.

“I’m good,” I say, coming to my senses. I told myself I’d never smoke. I’d never give in to the master that controls my mother. Feeling like I betrayed not only myself but Ethan as well, I get up and go to the kitchen. I need to breathe for a minute. I grab another beer from the cooler, pop it open, and down it in one go.

I know it’s probably a little hypocritical to say no to drugs, and then drink alcohol but I need something to take the edge off. I need to forget what it’s like to walk in on my mother with a needle in her arm or with her nose to the table.

I take a second beer out of the cooler—feeling myself calming down—and join the guys back on the couch.

I swallow the rest of my drink, feeling the buzz trickle through my body, numbing me. I try to focus on the room, on the way people are dancing together, making out with each other. I don’t know how much time passes before I feel someone walk their fingers up my chest. I turn, finding a girl seated in my lap.

When the hell did that happen?

I don’t entirely feel like myself right now.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she says, staring at me with hungry eyes. Looking beyond her to Tyler and George, they give me the thumbs up and wink.

“Why don’t you take me upstairs,” she says. I try to focus on her face in an attempt to figure out where I know her from. Do we have a class together?

“You can take my room,” George says with a smile.

“Let’s go,” I tell her.

The girl gets up from my lap, and I walk ahead of her, leading her towards the stairs. I get all the way to the top, not bothering to look behind me to see if she’s following. I’m sure she is.

I open the second door on the right, letting myself into George’s room. Turning on the light, I feel the girl behind me, trying to lift up my shirt.

“Hey,” I say, halting her movements.

“Are you ready?” she asks, like she’s about to change my life.

Doubtful.

I look at the way she's swaying on her feet. “How much have you had to drink?”

She pouts. “Only a couple of beers. Oh, and two shots!” Although her lips say two, her fingers signal three.

I shake my head. “Get on the bed.” She smiles, kicking off her shoes and doing as she’s told.

“Under the blankets,” I instruct. She looks at me, puzzled, before doing exactly as I say. As soon as she gets comfortable, she yawns.

Good.

I shut off the lights.

“Come join me already,” she says, stumbling over her words.

I turn around and open the door. “Not tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t sleep with drunk girls,” I tell her. I lock the door behind me and walk out. I stand outside the room, hearing her exasperated scream. A few minutes later though, it’s quiet.

I walk down the stairs and find Tyler and George in the same spot as I left them.

“Good man!” George says, high-fiving me as I take my seat back on the couch.

Tyler cheers me on too. “Way to handle that shit!”

I don’t bother to tell them I didn’t sleep with her. I let them think whatever they want.

I’m an asshole, but I’m not about to take advantage of a drunk girl.

I shoot the shit with the guys for a couple of hours, waiting until I’m sober enough to drive. I say my goodbyes and wander outside, sitting in my car for a moment. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to be there, to potentially see my mom passed out. Ethan’s not there, so I really don’t need to go home just yet. As I approach the turn that’ll take me back to my house, I wonder if I should just keep driving, to take advantage of this opportunity to have some time away because it doesn’t happen often.

I let my street pass me by as I head in the direction of the highway. I drive down the interstate, eventually taking a familiar turn. A few minutes later, I slow the car to a complete stop. Getting out, I cross the road, stepping into a large field. Above me, the sky stretches on forever, the stars burning brightly in a blanket of dark blue silk.

As I pass, I touch the delicate petals of the slumbering flowers. This is where I brought Ethan after we went for ice cream the other day—the day his image of me started to fall apart. That was my fault. I wanted him to see the flowers, the open space. I wanted him to run around freely, to do whatever he wanted. To be a child.

As I walk through the field, I remember how much he laughed chasing after me while we played tag. His carefree laugh made me smile in return. It reminded me of how we’d play hide and seek a long time ago. Being here with him helped me forget the bad things even if only for a moment.

Looking around the massive dark field, it seems larger. I continue to walk around it aimlessly and when I find myself in what I think is the middle, I open my arms wide and welcome the breeze.

It’s 3am so no one is around. There’s nothing in sight for miles.

So, I let go.

I scream at the top of my lungs, letting out all the frustration, the anger, the pain.

I shout until my throat is raw and tears sting my eyes.

I don’t know if it’ll help but at this particular moment, it feels good. My legs seem to give out then, and I collapse to the ground. Breathing in the fresh night air, I think about the future, of what I want to do with my life—who I want to become.

But just as the breeze causes the flowers to move, my dreams for the future are blown away with it.