R - Birthday Story

Alex had started his twenty-first birthday party at six. He was by
half past eight, drunkenly dancing to 'Come on Eileen' with a fat
middle-aged aunt who may or may not have once been a man; it was hard
to tell in the darkness of the marquee. Outside in the garden,
substandard mingling skills had resulted in the formation of four
distinct groupings. Family and friends of the family sat quietly around
a large wooden table remembering Alex in nappies. Work colleagues stood
thoughtfully in a circle remembering Alex when he'd first started with
the company. And the other two groups were by now noisily trying to
remember who the fuck Alex was and who, if anyone, knew where the other
keg of Stella had gone. Not being a member of Alex's family, or a
colleague and knowing who he was and more importantly where the kegs
were, meant that I didn't fit into any of these groups. Standing
awkwardly by the jukebox, I prayed for someone to choose a song that
was less than ten years old.

My shag buddy had small talked his way through everyone at the party
and avoided me with practised skill. He was settled at the table where
a large, bald Liverpudlian was annotating a napkin with the story of
how Alex had lost his virginity. The story had never involved a
prostitute before, so I wondered over to look at the picture, closely
followed by Alex who grabbed the pen, enlarged his penis and added
another prostitute. My shag buddy, on seeing me, excused himself and
headed for the kegs. I watched him stroll towards the kitchen, the
holes in the back of his jeans showing the skin on his bottom to the
world. He was public property and I was forced to acknowledge this on a
regular basis. Bastard. Last week had been his birthday and not only
had he avoided me as usual, but he had pulled slag Sharon in my face at
the club, resulting in an hour of sobbing into Phil's shirt on the
stairwell, a lot of swearing and a solemn vow never to sleep with him
again. But I had forgiven that. After all it was a drunken moment, I
have better things to do than hold a grudge and I'd fallen for him. I
had broken the not loving rule. Tonight I had come to the party in a
new outfit and painted nails to prove that I was better than slag
Sharon. A million times better. If only that had happened. On hearing a
choking noise, I turned around to find Alex had partially ingested the
pen during a demonstration of the prostitute's technique and was being
vigorously shaken by the bald Liverpudlian. I couldn't stay and watch
however as my phone began to vibrate and looking down I saw Kim's name
flashing at me. Back up had arrived.

"This party is boring." Kim had been here for twenty minutes. We had
attempted to mingle and were now standing uncomfortably close to one of
Alex's dad's garden torches, topped by a large naked flame. Kim, being
a fashion student and a rather adventurous one at that, made all her
own clothes and I nervously wondered if the pritt stick holding her top
together was flammable and whether I had seen a fire extinguisher in
the kitchen. Looking around the table in front of us I could see it
would be difficult to raise any kind of excitement. Dan and Adam were
chatting and drinking fosters from plastic pint glasses, as they had
done every Saturday night for the last five years. The weasel boys,
whose names we had never learnt, were draped over two mahogany dining
chairs and between them, a bum cheek on each knee, was perched chubby
red haired girl. She leered aggressively from beneath her fringe and
sucked the neck of a Smirnoff ice bottle, only the brave or very drunk
would have tried any mingling with her. Next to them, on a plastic
garden chair a shaven headed man in a smart blue t-shirt was sitting in
silence. His lap was occupied by slag Sharon. There was not a man at
the party, apart from a few members of Alex's family and a couple of
his work friends that slag Sharon had not slept with. She could have
been a professional if she'd thought to charge a fee. Next to them and
directly opposite us, sat a lanky long legged boy wearing a navy
baseball cap, from the edges of which crept thick strands of greasy
hair. He had piled a plate with food from the buffet and was too busy
eating to speak to anyone. His eyes were large and brown with the
searching innocence of a refugee child. At some point in the recent
past he would have been good looking, but he had let his hair grow out
and his body grow thin. This was my shag buddy's best friend. I looked
back at Kim.
"Let's get shit faced and stir a few things up?"

We went back into the kitchen to choose our weapons from the fridge.
Alex was groping his sixteen-year-old sister's friend up against the
doorframe. As we squeezed past, his mother followed us; grabbing his
shirt collar with a frustrated sigh and steering him roughly back into
the marquee. We went outside to stand in our position opposite shag
buddy's best friend who had by now finished his meal. He looked up to
find us both staring at him and slowly licking our lips. We walked
round the table and sat down, one of us on each knee. Kim leaned over
and purred in his ear.
"We were wondering if you'd be up for a threesome in the mini?" And
then she winked.

He got up and we followed him to the front door, closing it gently
behind us as we headed for the car. We had no intention of actually
getting in but we teased him anyway and after a giggle we went back
into the party and back to our drinks.

But he didn't leave it there. We had started something and he wanted to
finish it. Outside. With me. I looked around for my shag buddy. He was
still in discussion with the bald Liverpudlian and although I stared
hard at him, he did not look up. I went over to speak to him but he
ignored my attempts at getting his attention. Fuck him. I turned
around, caught his best friend's eye and walked back through the
garden, through the house and out of the front door, slamming it as I
left. I could do what I wanted to do with whomever I wanted to do it
with. But I wasn't thinking straight. I couldn't think at all. I had
meant to say no, but ten minutes later, not wanting to lose face, I
found myself in a bush with an emaciated mullet man wearing a very
sweaty hat.

On re entering the party I needed a drink. I wanted to be sick. I
laughed and started to cry. I was shaking. I hadn't meant to do it. On
re entering the party shag buddy's best friend walked straight up to
shag buddy and told him what we had just done. Shag buddy exploded,
took him outside and threw him into the nearest hedge. Slag Sharon
became suddenly animated when she realised that I had stolen her
repertoire for the evening.
"Someone should keep her bloody legs together!" she sneered across the
garden. I stumbled through the house, closely followed by Kim who had
resisted the urge to physically hurt slag Sharon with great difficulty.
As I opened the front door, shag buddy was standing on the lawn with
his pig-faced mate. I tried to talk to him but I couldn't speak and as
my voice started to crack, I suddenly realised the immeasurable
enormity of what I had done. I wanted the lawn to absorb me into its
velvet greenness, to become a blade of grass, insignificant, lost,
nothing. I grabbed helplessly at his arm feeling the muscles tense at
my touch like a blow to the stomach. We looked at each other - crushed
- scarred - pain there are no words for - pain that said I love you and
I loved you, but I can't love you anymore. He turned away from
me.
"You're a slag!" shouted pig-faced mate. I burst into tears. I could
see shag buddy walking away. He was always walking away from me, but
this time he wouldn't be coming back.

As I collected my shoes from the marquee, I saw Alex in the garden with
his sister's friend again, this time half naked. He looked up as I went
to leave and grinned.
"Happy birthday" I said and forced a smile.
"Good party" he slurred and went back to licking her thigh.