Chapter 6: Beer Pong and Brownies

James and I split off from the larger group. We had to find our own ingredients. We hadn’t even thought about what to cook.

“I was thinking that a classic lasagna would be perfect for tonight,” I suggested, eyeing the shelves for pasta sheets and tomato sauce.

James shook his head, taking my hand before I could reach for the sauce.

“Lasagna is great, but how about we make some homemade tacos instead? I’ve been craving Mexican food,” he proposed.

I wrinkled my nose at the thought of abandoning my beloved lasagna. I really wasn’t in the mood for Mexican food. I wanted pasta!

“How about chicken pasta?” I countered and pulled my hand free. I saw the fettuccine and reached for it, but once again James took my hand in his.

“Pasta sounds delicious, but I still think tacos would be more fun to make,” he argued.

I tried to pull my hand free, but he wouldn’t let go.

“James, let go,” I said, gently tugging.

“But I like holding your hand,” he gave me a squeeze.

“You’re only holding my hand because you don’t want me to reach for the pasta.”

James laughed and let me go. “Okay, okay, I don’t want the pasta.”

We stood there, locked in a friendly debate, each of us trying to persuade the other to see things our way.

“Why not?”

“I just like tacos more…” He shrugged.

“And I like pasta more,” I crossed my arms.

“How about we make both?” James suggested. After much deliberation, we finally reached a compromise. “Chicken pasta and chicken tacos.”

I laughed at the idea. It sure was going to be an interesting meal.

“Okay then,” I agreed.

Together we gathered the ingredients for our ambitious dinner. We got taco shells, chicken, pasta, spices, and veggies. This time James didn’t climb into the shopping cart.

“You know, if we ever decide to move in together, it seems like the kitchen will be a battleground,” James teased.

I laughed, nudging him playfully with my elbow.

“From here on, I’ll just tickle you until you agree with whatever I want us to cook.”

James laughed, “You seem to forget that I am bigger than you.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him, “Are you?”

James laughed. “Yes! Bigger and stronger.”

He flexed his muscles and I flexed mine right back at him. When had I become so confident?

And then I saw those four kids.

“Wow, look at those two’s cart,” Sophia said. She pointed right at us.

The boys laughed. Clearly, they weren’t done bullying me.

“It makes sense that they have so much, since the girl is so huge,” Liam added.

“But it looks like the two of them are planning on eating the whole store!” Ethan added.

I felt a prickling sensation of irritation rise within me. The urge to confront them boiled just beneath the surface. However, before I could voice my retort, James stepped forward with a scowl, ready to defend me.

But my hand shot out, halting him in his tracks.

“Forget about them, James,” I urged, my voice calm but firm. “No one cares about their stupid opinions anyway. We're just doing our grocery shopping like everyone else – and shopping for a whole group. Let them think what they want.”

James hesitated. His jaw clenched with suppressed anger.

“Let’s not give them the satisfaction of getting under our skin,” I added.

“You’re right, Keily,” he conceded, his tone filled with reluctance.

We turned away from them and continued our shopping. Deep down, I knew their words stung, but I refused to let them ruin our day.

For a moment I wondered if I had been taking their judgment and bullying too personally. Maybe it wasn’t about me at all. Maybe those kids were struggling with their own insecurities. Maybe they were projecting their own unhappiness onto others in an attempt to feel better about themselves.

Hmm.

We walked to the checkout counter where we found Matt and Lola. They were paying for frozen pizza and I realized that they weren’t planning on putting a whole lot of effort into cooking.

“Pizza? Really?” James said as he began putting out things on the conveyor belt.

“What? It’s quick, easy, and delicious!” Lola said.

“What are you cooking?” Matt asked.

“Chicken pasta and tacos,” I told him.

Matt arched an eyebrow and he swiped his card, “Isn’t that two meals?”

“We like a variety,” James said.

“Okay then,” Matt said. “We’ll meet you guys at the cottage.”

They picked up their plastic bags and made their way outside.

After paying for the groceries, we all piled back into our respective cars and made our way back to the cottage. The drive was filled with laughter and chatter, the tension from the encounter at the grocery store fading away as we focused on the fun-filled day ahead.

When we arrived, we unloaded the groceries. The kitchen was bustling with activity as preparations began for the day. We wasted no time when it came to enjoying ourselves. The afternoon slipped away as we immersed ourselves in games and laughter. Board games were brought out, and friendly rivalries sparked as we competed for victory. Between rounds of games, we worked together to set up for the big party in the evening. Decorations were hung and music playlists curated.

Each of us had to do something to make sure that the party would be fun. Lola and Matt slid their frozen pizzas into the oven. The tantalizing aroma of melting cheese and savory toppings filled the air.

My stomach growled.

Meanwhile, Lucas busied himself setting up the speakers. His skilled hands expertly adjusted the sound levels to create the perfect ambiance for the night ahead. The thumping bass reverberated through the cottage, setting the stage for an unforgettable party.

Addison took charge of gathering snacks. Her arms were laden with an assortment of chips, dips, and finger foods to satisfy our appetites throughout the evening. No one would go hungry.

James, ever the life of the party, took on the important task of getting the alcohol. His parents had left an impressive selection of beverages in the cottage. Guess they were ours now. Bottles clinked as they were placed on the table.

We were going to have the best time.

I watched Sadhvi place brownies on the kitchen table. I hadn’t seen any boxes, which made me think that she hadn’t bought them at the store. She’d maybe baked them at home.

“Already eyeing the edibles,” Lucas commented.

My eyes shot toward him as I realized they were weed brownies.

“I’d never tried that…” I confessed.

“It’s fun!” Lucas said. “It will make food taste amazing.”

“But food already tastes amazing,” I countered.

He walked over to me, “Just trust me on this…”

He picked up a brownie and put it into his mouth. Then he offered me one. But I shook my head. I didn’t want to be a party pooper, but I was unsure about the edibles. What if they made me feel weird or act strange?

“I think I need some pizza first!” I said. Before Lucas could say anything, I went to the kitchen and took a slice.

Across the room, James was already indulging in his first beer. I took my pizza with me as I walked over to him.

“Taking advantage of the open bar, huh?” I teased, a playful smile tugging at my lips.

James chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“You know me, always eager to get the party started,” he replied and took another sip.

“Shouldn’t you eat something first?” I asked, offering him my pizza slice. Drinking on an empty stomach was never good.

“I’m not hungry. But thank you,” James said and kissed me on the cheek. “Would you like a beer?”

“Not yet…” I said.

“How about a game of beer pong?” he asked.

I grinned. “Let’s do it.”

I quickly devoured my pizza. Together we set up the beer pong table. Our friends gathered around us, ready to watch.

“I’d like to play against the winner!” Lucas announced.

“It’s going to be me,” James said, taking out the plastic cups and arranging them in two neat triangles.

“You’re wrong,” I said. I opened a beer can and poured the beer into the cups.

“You're going down, Keily,” James teased.

He reached for a ping pong ball, but I beat him to it.

As the game started, the energy in the room skyrocketed. Excited murmurs rippled through our friends as James and I took our places on opposite sides of the table. With a deep breath, I focused on the cups in front of me, blocking out the noise of the party as I prepared to make my first shot.

I aimed carefully, flicking my wrist as I sent the ball sailing through the air. It arced gracefully, landing with a satisfying ~plunk~ into one of James’s cups. The room erupted into cheers as I scored the first point.

Yes!

James grinned, undeterred by the early setback. With a confident swagger, he stepped up to take his shot. His eyes locked on the cups before him. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the ball flying, and to my dismay, it landed cleanly in one of my cups.

The game continued in much the same fashion, each of us trading shots and scoring. The tension in the room mounted with each successful toss, the crowd growing louder with each point scored.

I threw and missed.

James threw and it went in.

I drank the beer although I didn’t like the taste. I didn’t want to be a party pooper. And playing this game was fun.

As the game progressed, James began to gain momentum. He sunk shot after shot with unwavering precision. Despite my best efforts, I found myself struggling to keep up. The cups on my side of the table were getting less and less.

Finally, with just one cup left standing on my side of the table, I prepared to shoot. With a deep breath, I focused all my concentration, blocking out the noise of the party as I aimed for the remaining cup.

Despite my best efforts, the ball missed its mark. It bounced off the rim of the cup and rolled away.

“OOH!” my friends went simultaneously.

James grabbed the ball out of the air and he threw it at my final cup. Of course, it went in.

The room erupted into cheers as James celebrated his hard-earned victory, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. I laughed as I conceded defeat, raising my hands in surrender.

“Well played, James. Looks like you’re the beer pong champion tonight.”

“But will he stay the champion?” Lucas asked. I moved away from the table so that he could take my place. Game on!