No Us, No We

Charlene had a solid buzz when she got to Arnold’s house party thing. He sent her a Facebook invite for it a few days ago — 29th Birthday Party Bitch — and texted her immediately asking if she got it. She asked who’s birthday it was. He said his roommate. It’ll be fun.

They weren’t “together” in any official sense, but, you know, they got coffee after hooking up. They sent each other memes. They got drunk and made pasta that one time. This had been going on for two or three weeks, and it worked for Charlene. It was casual. It was nice.

This didn’t feel in line with that. Charlene had never been to Arnold’s house, never met his friends, and when she stepped out of her Uber she thought about going back home. Why didn’t she stay home. She could be sitting on her bed, half drunk with no pants and watching Chopped.

But she came, and paid $20 to get there. Arnold lived all the way in Bayview, which is a trash suburb of San Francisco, but he had a house. Like a real house, with a side yard and a driveway and room for a house party. Charlene stood at the bottom of the driveway, holding a bottle of wine by the neck. Lights were on, and the muffled sounds of music and people carried down the block. Three dudes smoked cigarettes on the porch. She texted Arnold that she was here.

The side gate was open, and Charlene figured what-the-hell. She walked up the driveway and looked through. At the end of the alley created by the house and wood fence, there was light and laughter. She walked through.

The backyard was lit by white Christmas lights hanging fence to fence. About twenty people mingled around a bench covered in six packs of expensive beer and twelve packs of regular beer and a few bottles of wine. It smelled like weed. Everyone looked closer to 30, dressed all nice and standing all straight. She put her bottle of $6 Yellowtail on the table, took a plastic cup, and poured a glass of an already opened, probably $15 wine. She took a drink. There wasn’t any difference.

A girl in a blouse/blazer combo and a guy in a sweater next to her talked.
“Oh my god I love Bali.”
“I went once when I was kid, but this was like my first Bali, you know?”
“Where did you stay?”

A voice called out, “Charlene!” She whipped around. Arnold was across the yard, waving. He said something to a guy he was talking to, and started walking towards her. She walked towards him.

He had put some stuff in his hair, and a nice henley on. He looked good. He put his hands out, palms up, and made an AHHHH face when they met in the middle. “You made it!” he said. He gave her a hug.

“Yeah!” she said. “I, uh…this place is really sick.”
Arnold was smiling and nodding at her. “Thanks, I’m glad you like it. You look…Ya look great, I like the leather jacket.”
“Oh, thanks, everyone here has like button-ups and shit.”
“Eh, bunch-a nerds, their moms still buy them clothes from Kohls.”
“That where you get the fancy shirt?”
“Duh, how do you think I know that.”
“I don’t know, I thought maybe you were just super into bargain fashion.”
He laughed, “Yeah, this season’s Target collection is definitely superior, but Kohls design has a…je ne se quoi that you really can’t deny.”
Charlene laughed, “That’s pretty good.” They smiled at each other.

“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she said. They leaned in and kissed.

“Come on,” he said. “I want to introduce you to a few people.”

The inside of the house was loud. People sat on the kitchen counters yelling over each other and the music. People were playing beer pong on a table way too small to play beer pong on. People were getting stoned on the couch.

A projector sat on a coffee table, perched on a stack of books. It cast a projection of these random, beautifully shot images on the living room wall. The stoned kids giggled at it.

“Samsara. You ever see it?” Arnold yelled into Charlene’s ear.
“No.”

Arnold’s eyes got serious, and he nodded his head yes. He nodded faster and faster, got close to Charlene’s face, kissed her cheek, and darted away before she could react.

She followed Arnold into the kitchen. He tapped the shoulder of some guy wearing a snapback and an argyle sweater-vest.

“Yo,” Arnold yelled, “This is Charlene!”
“Oh, shit!” The guy yelled. He was drunk as hell. “Hi, I’m Javeed! You want a beer?”
Charlene raised her cup, “I already have wine!”
“Then finish it!” Javeed pulled a can of beer out of nowhere and tossed it to her.
“He’s my roommate,” Arnold said.
“Oh, sick! Happy birthday!”
“What?” Javeed yelled.
Charlene waved around the room.
“Oh, thanks!” Javeed raised his beer, “Cheers!”

They all drank.

Ben showed up late, around 11:30. Charlene and Arnold were talking about something or other when he slapped his hand on Arnold’s shoulder.

“There he is!” Ben said. He was an older guy, maybe mid 30s, with curly hair and a polo shirt. Arnold stood up straight.
“Ben!” he said. “I…Oh my god, thank you so much for coming.”
Ben shooed the thought away, “Lot of people showed up.”
“Yeah, yeah yeah, it uh…Oh! Ben, this is my girlfriend, Charlene.”

Charlene felt ice water rush from her skull to her arms. Ben gave a head nod, and put a hand out. Charlene watched herself shake it.

“This is Ben,” Arnold said. “He owns a startup tank in the city.”
“Oh,” she said. “That’s awesome.”
He pretty much ignored her. “Do you mind if I get a drink?”
“Please do!” Arnold was too loud. “I’ll show you where.”

They both walked towards the kitchen without a word to Charlene. She stood alone, holding a bottle of expensive beer.

That had to be a slip, she figured. The girlfriend thing. Right? Saying “friend” would have been weird, and explaining the actual situation would be insane and take way too long.

But, ok, is that what he’s said to everyone? Javeed seemed to recognize her immediately. But they’re roommates, and guys definitely talk about hook up shit. Everyone does, that’s not just a guy thing. But like, classic guys.

But this is how it starts. Girlfriend is easier to say, but it starts to become true. This is only like two or three steps away from posting a bleeding heart instagram picture for a birthday, or, or or having mutual friends make mom and dad jokes all the goddamn time. Canceling plans with friends just to watch a movie one person doesn’t want to see because the other person had to watch a movie they didn’t want to see. Is this why he invited her? Shit. This is why he invited her.

Arnold came back with two fancy beers and a grin.

“I’m…” Charlene faded out with a sigh. How are you suppose to handle this?
“What?”
“I just, we’re…fucking.”
“…What?”
“I, look…what you said freaked me out.”
“What did I say?”
“You called — you told what’s-his-face I was your-”
“Oh, dude, come on, I…alright, fine, fine.” Arnold sighed, and squinted at his beer. “I, look, I don’t really want to apologize. It just came out, like, whatever. And, and I don’t…I really like you.”
“What?”
Arnold coughed. “I’m, I’m a little drunk, but like, I like you. A lot. And, um…I don’t know! I don’t know. Do…you like me?”

Charlene looked at Arnold. Her vision was becoming wavy, but between the blurs she could see his face. The ridge at the top of his nose. The few hairs between his eyebrows. The baby fat around his jawline.

“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she said.

Arnold gripped the bottle, and looked just under her eyes, more at her mouth and neck. He nodded. He smiled toothless, and looked back at her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.” he said.

He walked away.

Charlene stood with two people she didn’t know, each of them going through some Buzzfeed quiz. They giggled and argued over answers. Charlene looked around for Arnold. Everyone was in groups, pouring over their phones and laughing. She didn’t see him. She smiled at the two, said she was gonna grab another drink, and headed outside.

He wasn’t there, either. Whatever. She wasn’t his girlfriend, anyways. She walked down the wood stairs, and poured a cup of wine from the table. Most of the bottles were empty. Her bottle of Yellowtail was unopened.

Two people talked by the table.

“It’s too gimmicky.”
“Yeah but I mean I’m ok with gimmicky.”
“It’s not good gimmicky though.”

Charlene sat down on the bench. The fog started rolling in, swirling over the Christmas lights above. Charlene looked around. People were standing around. Music played. Everyone was starting to loosen up. Arnold was somewhere, probably avoiding her.

Charlene checked Lyft. $23 to get home. She looked up again, expecting something different.

She hit Pickup.

Twitter: @shaunparkerish | Instagram: @millennialgoosebumps