Abi Hilden, executive editor

Fireworks.

That’s what happened when our lips collided, messily and unpredictably, without any prior practice. If this was a dream, this would have been the moment that I would have shot straight up in my bed in a cold sweat — something that’s happened before. However, this time I wasn’t dreaming.

I never really believed people when they called alcohol ‘liquid courage’, I didn’t believe that it could have that powerful of an effect on someone. Mostly, I just thought that it was all a placebo effect. One big joke that humanity has been playing on itself for as long as alcohol has been around, because the people who invented it wanted to make some quick money. Never did I think that it would take down my walls, brick by brick, and allow me to do things I would never do sober. Rather, things I wouldn’t allow myself to think to do while sober.

So, when Tatum stole the vodka from her mom and brought it to our sleepover, I was all in for the ride. I thought I could beat it, thought I could think my way past the effects it had on me because that’s what I do with everything. Boy, was I dead wrong.

I hated the way it tasted. Vodka is not for the weak of heart or of stomach — I found that out as soon as it hit my lips. Gagging, I had to chase it with a full cup of soda to get the wretched taste out of my mouth. Of course, Tatum thought this was hilarious. She started laughing at me and — before I even had time to be offended — I started laughing too at the absurdity of our situation. Here we were, summer coming to a close and high school looming in the distance, getting drunk off of stolen vodka. It was like something out of a shitty romantic comedy, pardon my french.

However, once we perfected the ratio of vodka to soda, we were both drinking like we had just walked miles in the desert and found ourselves upon a watering hole. I think that’s why I didn’t realize how drunk I was quickly becoming, my inhibitions lowering and certain thoughts that I swore had been locked into the back of my mind starting to enter my consciousness.

We did all the things that teenage girls do at sleepovers, complained about our parents, watched stupid movies, did each other’s nails, and made each other friendship bracelets. Our bracelets didn’t turn out great, on account of the depressant working its way through our systems, but we didn’t care. When Tatum tied the one she made for me on my wrist — an ugly but endearing amalgamation of beads and string — a jolt of static electricity transferred from her fingertips to my arm. It made me hold my breath for just a moment, an involuntary reaction.

Everything came to a head during our game of truth or dare. Sometimes I wonder about who invented the game and if they know how influential it has been in people’s lives all across the world. 

We went back and forth, with the questions and dares starting innocent but becoming more taboo as the game progressed. Anyone who has played the game knows this is the natural way things go while playing, as it takes a couple rounds to break the ice. By the time the game was winding down, I thought we had exhausted every taboo topic to death, but then Tatum got an interesting look in her eye.

She asked me, “Truth or dare?”

“Um…I haven’t done a dare in awhile so, dare.” I said.

“I dare you to…kiss me.” She rushed through the sentence, the last part coming out just above a whisper, but I heard what she said.

My face shifted into a puzzling look of surprise and… something else. I sat in silence for a moment, suddenly feeling very sober after hours of the dizzying feeling of being drunk. A series of thoughts that had escaped the mental prison I had put them in began to run wild in my head.

She wants me to kiss her? Does this mean she likes me as more than a friend? No, I can’t kiss her, that would be wrong. But I kind of want to. Not because I’m gay or anything, I like boys, obviously, but it might be kind of fun. I shouldn’t. I should. I’m going–

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Tatum broke the silence surrounding us and interrupted my train of thought for a moment. Even so, I still sat there, trying to wrap my head around what was happening. “It’s okay, let’s just move on.” she said, trying to make things go back to as they were before she let the dare slip from her lips.

“No.”

The word escaped from my mouth and before I had time to think, I was moving toward my best friend. My liberated thoughts won out as I wrapped my arms around her and leaned in, reducing the gap between us until it no longer existed.

It was like my whole body was full of static electricity; my veins buzzed with energy and I felt so alive. The kiss was messy and without thought, both of us exerting pent up feelings that had been kept at bay for awhile. Eventually, we found a rhythm and moved in sync. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before, a sense of safety and love that was foreign but in the best way possible.

After what seemed like hours, Tatum pulled away and just stared at me from a few inches away. Our faces were flushed, and for a while we just sat there staring at each other. I couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Wordlessly, I stood and practically ran to the bathroom. I quickly shut the door behind me and slid to sit on the floor against it. My breathing was erratic, as were my thoughts.

What just happened? Did we just kiss? Did I like it? No, I couldn’t have, she’s a girl. I don’t like girls, I can’t like girls. I am straight. I don’t like girls. I don’t like girls. I don’t like girls. But that was nice, I think. Maybe…NO. I can’t be thinking like this. What would people think? No. No. No. NO.

I stood up, breaking out of my thought spiral and once again locking them back up in the back of my mind. I splashed water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror, realizing that there were now tear tracks trailing down my face. I shook off my anxiety and flushed the toilet, so it appeared as if I hadn’t just come in here to have a breakdown.

As I exited the bathroom and returned to the basement where Tatum and I had been hanging out, I plastered on a face that I hoped was normal-looking. Tatum looked up from her phone and smiled at me, looking as if nothing had happened. I smiled back, silently hoping that we had just made an agreement not to discuss what had happened.

“I think it’s getting a little late, so I’m going to get ready to sleep.” Tatum said with a yawn.

“Y-yeah, me too.” I said, trying to sound as casual yet put-together as possible.

We both got ready for bed in an awkward silence, neither of us really having the words to fill the space in a way that made sense. After I noticed Tatum had laid down, I turned off the lights and climbed into the safety of my covers.

“Goodnight Piper.” Tatum whispered from her sleeping area.

“Goodnight Tatum.” I whispered back.

My eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion hitting me like a ton of bricks. As I slept, it was dark and dreamless — like all of my thoughts had been locked away. Unlike other nights, this night I embraced the void.