Steam, Heat, and Rhythm (in the Backseat of a Car)

I'm standing on the edge of the world.

This comes later.

2.

I don't know what we're talking about.

There is a bottle of vodka sitting at my feet, and around me there is so much noise. So much static.

So many people.

Confusion.

"Look," someone says on my side. A girl. For some reason she is holding my free hand. I know I didn't come with her. I always come to these parties alone. I usually leave the same way. "This is what I mean."

She's talking to me, but like I said, I don't know about what.

I say, "Yeah."

She lets go of my hand, reaches inbetween my legs. I breath in, then realize she is going for the vodka. She twists off the cap,takes a drink. Holds it out to me.

"You have no idea what I am talking about do you? You're so fucking drunk that you don't know what I'm saying." She's looking at me. I'm holding the bottle to my lips.

I nod.

Take a drink.

"This is just like you," she says. She says it like we actually know one another. Her voice, it's a little bit louder than before. She gets up and walks away.

"Coming?" she says.

3.

It's a little later an we're in the back seat of my car.

Fucking.

She's on top and I can't see out of my windows. Can't really see her. She is going up and down, and everytime she goes up her head hits the ceiling. I don't think she notices.

She's just going up, down.

Up, down.

Up, down.

"Tell me something," she's whispering. "Tell me something."

I don't know what she means, so I don't say anything. She continues to bounce, and everything is spinning. I'm too drunk to be fucking. She doesn't seem to notice I'm not in to this.

Not into her. No pun intended.

4.

It's earlier.

I'm standing outside my house telling my parents that I won't be drinking.

Won't be doing anything that I've never done before.

Or that I want to do again.

5.

Back in my car.

She is still riding me. Going up, down.

Up, down.

Her head keeps hitting the roof. Everytime making a little pffff sound. Like rubbing you're hands on a pair of jeans.

"Say something,"  she says on the downward slide. I don't know why she wants to talk. It's not like fucking a stranger is something that really requires a converstation.

"Please," she's still whispering. It almost sounds like she is begging. Begging me for fuck talking.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything, I like it when guys talk."

"My name is...," It's all I can think of, and at least it makes me not a stranger to her.

She is going up, ridding me like she is jumping on a pogo stick. She doesn't say anything, and I feel her legs clinch on the downward pogo. Her body shivers.

And then she says, "Thanks. Go and ruin this."

She is pulling herself up and off of me. Pulling down on her skirt.

She opens the door, and for a split second cold air comes in when she steps out.

The door slams and I look out the window to see only the steam from whatever this was.

6.

I'm sitting in my car and I realize it's fucking hot. I look down and realize my pants are pooled around my knees. I pull them up.

Cinch my belt.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, look at the time, see it's past midnight.

I pull myself between the seats, take my keys and start my car. The radio booms out of the speaker. I always drive with the music turned up loud because my windows are always down. It's "Indifference" by Pearl Jam.

I turn the radio up, and wonder if I can even drive.

It doesn't matter. I know I will anyway.

I'm sitting, my windows are still clouded. I turn on my defrosters and my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket.  I look at the number. I answer, "Hello?"

"Hey," it's my best friend. "Where'd you go with ---?"

"Was that her name?" I ask, honestly curious.

"Yeah, you didn't know?" I can hear the smile in his voice.

"I guess not," I say and notice I can see out my windows now.

"So where'd you two go? She came back in, and she looked pretty sweaty man." The smile is almost a laugh in his voice.

"Listen,"  I say. "I don't really know what happened."

I hang up, and I put my car into reverse.

7.

It's sometime later and I don't remember the drive. I don't remember driving up Harbor and when it turned into Fullerton Road. I don't remember making the right turn onto Vantage Point and driving up the hill to where I am now.

Sitting in my car.

I open my door and start to walk to the place where I can see the world.

8.

Seconds later and I'm looking down at lights in places my feet will never touch. I see cars going from place to place, some slow, some fast.

Some sitting at stoplights, or making turns.

I am thinking about nothing. Not about what happened in my car. Not about the party I don't remember.

My head is still spinning, still in confusion from drinking.

Yet, it's clear.

Standing here, on what feels like the edge of the world, it's clear.

Clear.