The Ride Home
The Ride Home high school stories
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sleepygal
sleepygal Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   4 years ago
So the party’s pretty fun. I’m dancing well, and people are noticing. And the beer’s really good. Sometimes at parties like that they go cheap on the beer because no one really knows who brought it, but this beer’s really good. My friends are already drunk as hell.

The Ride Home

So the party’s pretty fun. I’m dancing well, and people are noticing. And the beer’s really good.

Sometimes at parties like that they go cheap on the beer because no one really knows who brought it, but this beer’s really good. My friends are already drunk as hell.

That’s the problem with my friends, you go to a party with them to spend time, and they get drunk as hell the first hour.

Anyways, I end up in this bedroom in one of the hallways (it’s a huge house, by the way) and this guy’s trying to hook up with me, and I’m sort of into it I guess,

but then I keep thinking about stuff. Sometimes my brain does that. Like all I’m trying to do is have a good time at a party and my brain just thinks about stuff.

So I'm thinking about what would be exactly where I’m sitting in a hundred years, and what would be going on and stuff.

So then I’m thinking what would I be doing, and obviously I would be dead, so then I'm thinking about that. And then a funny thing happens.

So my brain’s doing all this thinking about death, and my heart sort of speeds up and I get really scared all of a sudden.

Keep in mind this guy’s trying to hook up with me while all of this is happening. So I’m completely scared of death all of a sudden, terrified out of my mind, and I’ve gotta get out of there.

So I sort of push the guy off me and run all the way to the front door. I guess people noticed me thinking I was weird or something, but all I cared about was getting out of that goddamn house.

So I’m out of the house finally, and I’m taking these breaths like they told me to, and my heart is kind of starting to slow down, and I check my phone, and the goddamn thing is dead.

And the thing is I knew this would happen.

You know when you go to a party to have some fun with your friends and they get drunk and this guy keeps trying to make out with you and you have a goddamn panic attack,

your phone’s gonna end up being dead. So I’m stuck at this party with this useless phone and a bunch of drunk friends doing God knows what with no ride home.

And I guess I could’ve used someone else’s phone to call my parents, I mean I was barely even buzzed, or even get an Uber or something,

but after you have a panic attack at a party you don’t want anything to do with a bunch of drunk kids. So I’m thinking I know at least one person who never drinks: Amelia Waltman.

Amelia Waltman is the most goddamn annoying, boring person on this entire goddamn planet.

Y’know how I know that?

One time I asked her if she wanted to come to a party at my house since my parents weren’t gonna be home and all and the very first thing she says to me is she asks if people are going to

be under the influence. Can you believe that? She used the phrase under the influence.

I don’t think I would’ve minded as much if she would’ve just asked if people were gonna be buzzed, but she asked if they were gonna be under the influence.

Wanna know what I said back? “Well I don’t know about all that, I just know everyone’s going to get buzzed as hell!” That really got her mad, especially since she knew I knew what she meant.

But I come to the conclusion that I’ve got no choice other than Amelia Waltman, unless I wanna try and walk home the thousand miles.

I know Waltman’s at the party because she made this whole thing about it. She kept saying how she would go and not drink or anything to show she could have fun while sober. God, what a prick.

So I find Amelia sitting on this couch surrounded by these stoners, looking like one of those wooden dummies with this painted on smile but eyes screaming for help.

So I go up to Amelia and ask for a ride home, but I guess I’m a little more drunk than I thought and she doesn’t really hear what I’m saying, so I ask her again.

This time she gets it and we walk over to her car. The walk over she keeps putting her arm around me as if I can’t walk.

I’m barely buzzed and feel totally fine, but she keeps on helping me up as if I’ve broken my leg or something.

So the ride to my house is the most awkward 20 minutes in history. I don’t give her my address since she still has it in her phone, so we’re both just sitting there.

Then, she does the worst thing she could do and starts talking to me. When you’re giving someone a ride so they don’t get into trouble you don’t start talking to them. She says,

“How’re your classes? Don’t you have Mr. Harris? He’s a tough grader.”

“Yeah, I do fine, though. He’s only tough if you’re dumb.” She doesn’t have anything to say for a second.

“What sport are you doing?”

“I swim.”

“Oh yeah, I remember you were swimming 50 laps a day in middle school to prepare.” She said. She shouldn’t have the right to remember things about me.

“Yeah, that was a lie. I swam ten a day for a week and then forgot.” She doesn’t have anything to say again.

“So how are you and Christian?”

“We’re great.”

After about an hour we finally get to my house. When I get out of the car she comes out, too, and gives me this hug and says, “Stay safe”. That just makes me wanna go and get hit by a car.

God, Amelia Waltman.

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