I was too drunk. There was no question about it. It was the very beginning of our end-of-highschool beach trip and already I was stumbling, clinging to my close friend Jade for support. She did roller derby, so she had the muscular physique to handle a lot of alcohol, but I was smaller and keeping up with her had left me a mess. My words were slurred (if they even came at all) and I felt like my head was inside of a fishbowl. Plus, underneath the fog of general drunken confusion, I had a pounding headache that only got worse as the music kept playing. "Hey," Jade said at one point, noticing me slumping against a wall, "Drink some water."
She handed me a glass and I tipped it back, enjoying the momentary relief of hydration before the headache was back again. I needed to get outside. Jade had gone back to our other friends, so it would have to be a solo mission. Okay. Deep breaths. I inhaled, tensed the muscles in my legs, and pushed myself onto my feet.
Well, onto my feet for a moment before I stumbled forward again and banged into a table, knocking someone's glass off of the edge. "Fuck," I slurred, "Sorry man." He was kinda hot; I met him in my math class and he would often come to me for help, so I knew he had that "dumb jock" appeal. I tried to smile coyly at him, but I was in no state for cleaning up, and continued on my journey. Slowly, I regained my balance and shuffled my way through the small crowd and out the door.
Finally, I felt the seasalt wind on my face. I breathed it in and stepped gingerly onto the gravel parking lot with my bare feet. We were renting the townhouse at a discounted rate from someone's friend of a friend, so we were able to stay right next to the beach. I weaved my way there now between parked cars, through the gate, and onto the cool, soft sand. I relished the feeling for a moment, but had to keep moving to maintain my balance. Stumbling and falling as I went, I made my way towards the ocean. I plopped myself down next to the water and let the tide flow over my toes. The world was spinning. The fresh air helped, but my head still ached. I cradled it in my hands, then felt a turning in my stomach. Oh god. Just as I realized what was coming, I was retching into the sea. It was a real production. I was getting vomit on my feet and my jeans, which were already ruined by the sand and ocean water. I was utterly unable to stop the flow, and puked until my throat was raw and my eyes watered. Finally, I regained my ability to breathe, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My body trembled, then I spat into the ocean and observed the puddle of bile being dispersed by the tides.
With my stomach emptied, I looked around the beach with fresh eyes. My vision still left a lot to be desired, but I managed to make out a form maybe 50 feet down the beach from me, just at the edge of the tide. I saw the moon glance off of what was maybe the curve of a shoulder, but I couldn't be too sure. The figure moved, looking back at me, and I could hear the smile in their voice when they shouted, "Senior week!?" at me in a slurred voice. They must have been having a similar experience to me.
"Yeah!" I called back, and pushed myself to my feet, "Hang on!" I began stumbling my way over. As I approached the figure, it became clear that they were a boy, about my age, kneeling shirtless in the sand. The dim light reflected off of their tan skin, revealing a toned figure and a few visible ribs. He was gorgeous. "What's your name?" I asked, sitting next to him in the sand.
