the backyard of the well preserved late-victorian manor was well trimmed, and the picnic tables on the courtyard were gently set. wherever this plot of land formally resided didnt really concern me in the moment, but it felt familiar enough to provide comfort and a little bit of safety. i dont think the mansion was nestled in our hometown, but for all intents and purposes it might as well have been. i dont know why else i would have called for you to join us in our meal. when your car arrived, which you stumbled out from on the passenger's side, a space i was all too familiar with you occupying, your drooped eyelids and vacant grin reeked of inebriation. i was still glad to have you and the driver, our mutual friend, regardless of the state you appeared to be sharing.

it was as i welcomed you that you brought me aside, with a stumbling, jerking motion, inside the nearby patch of bush to conceal us from the rest of the guests. with a sloppy urgency, you planted your lips onto mine, pressing the two pairs together almost to the point of our front teeth clicking. i could only focus on the softness of your pillowy mouth. it had always looked capable of fully enveloping my own, but now i had proof. before any significant coreoghraphy could be developed, you pulled away with a taped on drunken smirk. we would have been underwhelming at best, anyway. i was just satisfied you tasted exactly like i thought you would. years ago, in the midst of the freakish embarassment that was the first real chunk of pubescant adolescence, the moments i had spent nervously wondering what it would be like to kiss you prepared me for this moment, even if i spent a disproportionate amount of mental energy agonizing over if the desire to sample your lips was genuine or just a confused explanation for the burning in my chest that sporadically reared its head when we occupied the same room. i was left alone in our shared shrubbery before i even had a chance to understand all that i had felt, much less say anything about all that you did.

as dinner began, it became quickly clear you were not fit to be a respectful guest. any attempt at cordial conversation at the table directed your way was returned with a slurry of disregard. i felt embarrassed to have brought you here. as if i wasnt enough of a black sheep already, some of the more esteemed familial guests surely would start questioning any respect my way accumulated thanks to my intensely measured conversational tactics disguised as innocent chatter.

after about three or four instances of your rude displays, not even doing as little as eating the food offered to you, i pulled you aside and asked what the fuck you were doing. you answered back with the same alcohol induced smirk you greeted me with and shrugged my concern off. told me to 'just chill out'. i told you that you should probably just leave. the smirk soured and you bit back with some sharp, pointed remarks, the very same type that you always used when we argued, and always lit a fire underneath my stomach that ignited a stubborn bite back. i dont think i ever got the last dig in during our pseudo-intellectual spats, but i sure as hell could now. i called for an uber and took conviction in sealing your fate. not even sympathy would be spared, let alone the typical compassion i held for you. if you didnt leave when the rideshare pulled up, youd have the scathing eyes of the whole party laid upon you. i was hoping you'd resist so i could reign in the pride of the crowd being on my side when i would calmly dismiss your retaliatory remarks. but you got into the car without much resistance, stubbornly writing off this whole arrangement as 'a lame waste of time'. you were gone as soon as you arrived and nobody spoke much of it. suppertime was hardly interrupted, the meal's patrons not even through their first servings. my appetite fled before i even got a chance to sample the buffet. or, perhaps, it had been fully satisfied by the treat you eagerly fed me within our hidden grotto.