The Party

Chapter1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

Not only is this a story about finding yourself. This is a story about letting people live their lives the way they want. Not everyone wants to live life the same way, and that’s what makes people so interesting. My belief is that people should do what makes them happy. In Will’s case his passion was discovering the world and getting into trouble. At one point my mother asked me to go talk sense into Will. I refused. In my mind he was already making more sense than anything I had ever done. He was out living life the way he wanted and not the way other people wanted him to. I think this is a valuable lesson that everyone should take with them. Please, keep this in mind as you go through this story.


This story is based on actual events. To protect the individuals some names and locations have been changed. While I have taken some liberty in detailing the events the storyline follows the actual trek an acquaintance of mine took, to the best of my knowledge. If there are any questions about which parts are true I will gladly answer them, and if there are too many questions I will write a short piece detailing the accuracy of my story.

It is important to note that I heard a majority of the story from secondary sources, and not the main character, who is named William Dancer in this story. Because of this my perspective is limited and I did need to fill in gaps without certain facts.

The Party

Time approximated: June 2008

There it sat. Lying prostrate on the table it stared at me. Its perfect edges glared at me; its judgment bore into my soul. The room was on fire and all I could do was stand there looking at the bloody fucking envelope. The flame had started in the letter with its embroidered cover. It was a massive letter, practically a package. I already knew what it said: DENIED. I could see myself opening it now, “Dear Mister William Dancer, we regret to inform you that you were not accepted into our institution.” The sweat was dripping down my back.

For the implications it held on my future I could care less what it said. Glancing at my watch I broke my concentration.

Shit. I thought to myself. I’m going to miss the bus. Man I wish I had my license.

You see, I had lost my ability to get my permit and or my license a few months earlier. My friends and I were trying to buy alcohol. Some bum ass undercover cop caught us. The three of us booked it out the door and got into a high speed chase. I remember, it was one o’clock in the morning and it was so dark that the headlights couldn’t permeate the black night. I was in the back seat and my friend Sean was driving. The speedometer read 135 and was rising at an alarming rate.

Let me pause for a moment to describe the area I live in, to give you a better picture of what this looked like. My family isn’t exactly well off financially. My mom is in college for maybe the tenth time. It’s not that she can’t get a degree, on the contrary, she has quite a few; she simply enjoys learning. My father works as a mechanic in a local car shop. So, my family certainly has money, but we’re not living in a mansion. Our house is about an hour or two outside of Philadelphia, depending how fast you drive. We’re smack dab in the middle of Suburbia. There are two highways that run through town, but other than that it’s two lane back roads. Guess where the liquor was located? That’s right, on one of the back roads.

We knew the road well but going 145 around any bend is a challenge, especially because Sean was already impaired and well above the legal limit. You can see the charges stacking up. Disturbing the peace; endangering the public; speeding; driving drunk; drinking underage; evading arrest as well as many more. Well let’s just say we didn’t want to get caught. Unfortunately the tree on the edge of the road had other ideas. We’re lucky that we weren’t killed on impact. I remember the awful sound the car made when it impacted. It was pretty bad ass. Needless to say I was out cold in the back. Don’t ask me how those two assholes weren’t unconscious or injured, it was probably the adrenaline, but they jetted out of the car so fast god didn’t know where they went. Of course the cops caught up to the wreckage and pulled me out. I was uninjured aside from a mild concussion, but the car was totaled.

The police were going to press charges, or so they claimed, if I didn’t rat those jerks out. They may have left me to possibly die but I know a thing or two about loyalty. My mom was crying up to the day before the trial begging me to nark[1] on them. I decided it was in my best interest to save my own hide when they called me and proceeded to verbally bash me. They’re stewing in prison right now, while I’m free to go on with my life, and a few weeks of community service (which, might I add looks pretty good on a college application).

The bus pulled up and let me on. A few prissy girls sneered at me as I walked by. I grinned. The back of the bus welcomed me gladly. That’s the great thing about the back of the bus, no one cares. Everyone who sits in the back of the bus is hiding from something. Some people are hiding from noise so they can catch up on sleep or finish up some overdue homework. Others are hiding from cliques who talk so feverously in the early morning. Or, like me, some people are hiding from themselves. Just kidding, that’s a load of bull. I just don’t want to deal with those prissy bitches in the front.


The sweet scent of pot wafted into my nose as I strolled into the bathroom. Two guys stood in front of the stalls holding a joint each.

“Will! Don’t scare us like that,” the larger one said.


“I thought you was a teacha’. Let us know you’re coming in next time.”

“Hmm. Give me a light.”

“Sure thing.”

“I got a test next period, I wana relax a bit. You ready for tonight?”

“Hells yeah baby! You know I am. I already got the keg and like 3 dime bags. It’s gonna be sweet. The real question is are you gonna puss out again and vomit on my couch?”

“Shut up!” I said punching him on the arm. The bell rang. “Shit. I gotta go take that test now. I prolly smell like smoke too.”

“Whatever dude.”

“I’ll see you tonight Law,” I said to the jerkoff. “You should talk more Carter, you might have better luck with the ladies,” I said to the smaller one who had remained quiet through the duration of the conversation.

Carter grunted his disapproval.


The test turned out to be a dud. The teacher was out sick and our sub couldn’t find the tests. Oh well, it was better I didn’t take the final while I was high. I turned to the guy next to me, “Hey Don are you going to Lawrence’s party tonight?”

Don turned away and started talking to the girl next to him. That’s right, Don’s friends with Sean. He’s probably pissed that I finked. Oh well, let’s see how he likes this. I spat my gum out into his hair.

Sometimes you see things happen in slow motion. Usually it comes about because your adrenaline is flowing so fast that you’re moving twice your normal speed. In those moments you try to move but you find you’re frozen so there’s nothing you can do but watch for a second. Then your instincts take over and the rest… well you’ll see.

Don slowly reached his hand back to see what unknown projectile had found its way into his thick matted hair. It closed on top of the gooey mystery substance. A look of disgust crossed his face as he realized what had stuck in his hair. “You asshole!” He screamed.

The sub looked up from her magazine and coughed disapprovingly.

“I’m gonna beat the shit out of you Dancer!” He shouted as he pushed his desk over.

I’m 6’2’’ and I weigh about 160 pounds. As you can guess I’m not much of a fighter but I often find myself in these situations. It’s not just fights though. Trouble in general tends to find its way to me. Like the time I burnt down three acres of forest. Total accident by the way. I just lit up in the woods and tossed a roach. Those things are so cold by the time they hit the ground I’d pluck my eyelashes with one. But, of course its small little flame caught some dead leaves on fire. My friends and I tried to put it out, but to no avail. Within minutes the woods were a brilliant blaze. I’ve got to give some credit to the local fire department though, they had that thing under control within minutes of arriving. Luckily I didn’t get busted for that one, just said I was walking through the woods and noticed a lot of smoke.

Anyway, Don’s a big guy. I don’t mean muscular. He’s about 5’10’’ and weighs around 280 pounds. The reason his desk fell over when he stood up wasn’t because he was angry and threw it. His gut caught on the edge and tipped it. Yeah, he’s that kid. You know, the one everyone thinks is a total load; a total queef[2] (for you prudes a queef is a vaginal fart, one of the funniest things that can happen during sex. It is also synonymous with a tool in this case.)

“Excuse me!” the sub said loudly, clearly offended that her students would be so aggressive while she was blatantly sitting in front of them.

Don ignored her and took a swing at me.

“Uh!” the sub said in that high pitched offended way that girls often do. “Don’t you dare pretend I’m not here!”

Wow, she’s needy. She’s more upset that we’re ignoring her than the fact that we’re going at it. I was already up and out of my seat. The entire class watched as Don got the first hit, a clean shot to my face. It’s alright, I can dance circles around this guy. No pun intended . I smiled at my own joke.

“Why you smiling Dancer? You like getting your ass kicked?” Don taunted me.

I jabbed at his big ole’ gut. He let out a gasp of air. At which point it slapped him across the face a few times just to show him who was boss. If my goal was to infuriate him it worked. His face turned bright red as he came at me again, this time his head down charging at me with feral intent. Side-stepping his rampage I watched as he finished himself off. By the time he realized I had moved out of the way his momentum was committed to his attack. He went headlong, full speed, into the cinderblock wall.

People often hold the mistaken belief the fights last for several minutes. I think this misconception comes from Hollywood because fight scenes can last for up to ten minutes sometimes. This entire fight lasted all of twenty seconds. I know because that’s how long it takes to walk from the teacher’s desk to the phone.


On the bright side the principal said he wouldn’t suspend me for the last week of school. On the down side, I’m not walking at graduation. That’s okay I was planning on skipping out anyway. Those ceremonies are lame.

The bus ride home was uneventful save for the stares. Now rather than glare as I walked by the stuck up prissy bitches in the front stared at me for the entire ride. I think they found some fascination with judging my black eye. Either way it sure kicked the hell out of getting into another fight.

“Thanks.” I said to the driver as I got off the bus. Very few people thank their bus drivers. I do because I think it’s gotta be one of the worst jobs ever: Bad hours; rude kids; asshole drivers at rush hour. Plus my driver was actually pretty cool. My bus stop was supposed to be at the road that intersected my development which is about a ten minute walk to my house. My driver actually pulled up in front of my house, taking time out of his day for me.

I dropped my bag on the floor as I quietly closed the door. I didn’t want my mom to see me until I got the dried blood off my face. It won’t look as bad if I can get it cleaned up. Slowly I started up the stairs.

“Heh hem.” It was rather ill-fated that my mother had chosen to walk the dog at that exact minute. “Don’t you have something to tell me before you go play video games?”

I turned around looking confused.

“Oh my gosh honey what happened? Did you get in another fight?”


“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. What was I supposed to tell you?”

“About the letter from the Philadelphia School of Art.”

“Why would I tell you I got denied?” This really has been a shitty day.

“Sweetie, you got accepted! Didn’t you open the letter? I got an email today from the school, telling me you got in.”

“No, I kind of assumed I didn’t get in.”

“Congratulations. You grandmother wants to take you out to dinner to celebrate.”

“Not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“First off I have plans. Secondly, I have a black eye right now and you know she already disapproves of my behavior. And third, because if we go out to ‘celebrate’ she’s gonna drink. You know how she gets when she’s tipsy. I don’t want to deal with that right now.”

“Fine. Then you call her and tell her yourself.”


“You will call her or you’re not going out tonight.”

“Fine,” I said storming off to my room. Sounds cliché right? I actually just walked to my room. I did do something cliché though. After I cleaned up and changed I opened up the window in my room and climbed out onto the roof. It was too dark to see the ground clearly so I jumped and hoped for the best. Like I said though, trouble tends to follow me. I landed in the bushes and basically undid all the tidying up I had just done. Oh well, everyone’s going to be so wasted they probably won’t notice.


“Will, what happened to your eye? You look like you were on the wrong end of a prison beating.”

“If you call school prison, then yes. No, I actually got in a fight with that prick Donovan.”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. You knocked him out in math class. That’s pretty BAMF. Remind me not to pick a fight with you tonight. Haha.”

Carter had picked me up on the street corner and given me a ride to the party.

We’d been at the party for about two hours and I was already shit-faced. My B.A.C. was probably somewhere around .25 and I was well past forgetting the pain of the day. I was the life of the party, word had gotten around that I laid out Don. A dozen girls had already hit on me, an obscenely large amount for the small gravity that the feet actually held but, I was far from complaining. Within minutes I was making out with some girl whose name I was too drunk to remember, or probably even ask for. She was wasted and was using way too much tongue but, again, I didn’t mind.

It seemed like it only took a few minutes before we were heading for an empty room but my perception of time was so skewed at that point it could have been hours. The clock next to the bed read 3:36 AM. That’s the last thing I remember.

I woke up the next day at 12:00 to Law punching me in the back.

“Ouch! What the fuck dude?”

“Get out of my house!”

I was way too hung-over to understand what was happening. “Let me sleep for another hour.”

Law punched me again. “Now!”

I rolled over and noticed I was naked, well sort of. My pants were wrapped around my ankles. Apparently I’d been too drunk to get them properly off the night before.

“What’s going on?” My head hurt worse than it ever had from a hang-over.

Law is a big guy, so he had no trouble picking me up and literally throwing me out of the house even as I tried to squirm free. I scrambled to pull up my pants as some MILFs jogged by on their daily power walk. I was able to awkwardly cover my unmentionables, but not without drawing their attention. “Morning ladies.”

They scoffed, judged me, and kept walking.

Law opened the door holding an aluminum bat. “Get the hell off my property.”

I was hung –over but I wasn’t stupid. I took off down the road. Without Carter driving me it took me a few hours to get home. Lost in my thoughts I walked through the front door completely forgetting that I was supposed to stay in last night. Luckily, trouble stayed away from me this morning. They say fortune pities the fool, and I’m inclined to agree.

After calling around I was able to figure out why Law was so pissed. It turns out the girl I was hooking up with the night before was Law’s sister. Now that alone wasn’t enough to prompt his unbridled rage. The reason the last thing I remember is the clock is because that’s when I passed out. When I blacked out my head dropped down and broke her nose, which explained the ringing in my head. That along with the fact that it was her first time had fueled his hatred.

It’ll blow over.

[1] Nark: Seriously… you really mean you don’t know what this is? Maybe you shouldn’t be reading this book. You think I’m joking? Put this book down right now. What part of this are you not getting? Go get a joint, smoke it. Find a nice girl, the really innocent kind, and pay her for sex (yes, all girls accept payment) until you realize that she is an undercover cop. Now you’ve been busted… by a nark.

[2] Queef: occurs when an object in inserted into the vagina and a vacuum is created. Removing the object creates a very curious sound.