The Cake is a Lie (29 page)

“
Hey if you don’t have
principles, what you got?” Jonsen remarked.

Everyone laughed, “So what
happened?”

“
He let us go.”

I took another quick breathe from under
my shirt and ignored the awkward glances. I stood there trying to
put together a jigsaw of experiences in my head that just didn’t
fit. A cloud of panic attacks made the memory impossible to label.
As I looked at London’s bulging pupils I couldn’t help but feel a
wave of fanciful guilt for that miniscule night in her life.
[17]

“
God, there’s a lot of cute
girls I’ve never seen before here, Marco.” Tim observed. “You
should probably go talk to one, it’s your party.”

“
Ya’ll heard the one about
the old bull and the young bull?” Jonsen asked. “So these bulls are
standing on a hill, and the young bull looks down and sees a herd
of cows. So he says to the old bull, ‘Let’s run down there and
screw us a cow.’ And the old bull looks over and says, ‘Well, let’s
walk down there and screw all of them.”

I laughed with everyone, even though as
usual with Jonsen, it took me a second to get it. [18]

[17]
London Keyes
went on to become the most famous out of any of us, google it.

[18] j
onsen’s one of
my best friends. He makes some of the most money out of any of my
peers. Jonsen! Even though he loves to refer to himself as a “high
school drop out.” After high school, he channeled all of his regret
into a sadistic work ethic. Waking up at four in the morning, six
days a week, no vacation days. Construction’s hard on the body and
there’s a culture of verbal abuse that goes with the territory,
too. But he just bought his first house. It’s so great to see him
doing so good. I was there for the hard years after high school
too, when he’d talk about killing himself and bring his gun into
clubs. Cut himself.

I headed down the hallway to the master
bedroom. I opened the door to a petrified, shaking poodle staring
forsakenly at me. I picked him up and hopped on my mom’s bed to
comfort him. My mom’s death had left me with a step dad who left
every weekend to go hiking and “find himself.” Combined with my
nostalgia for the great parties of old it was only a matter of time
until I threw a spody for old time’s sake. I walked into the
bedroom bathroom and filled my beer can up with more water. My mom
had ironically taught me the trick during one of the “drug talks”
she’d given me. “I did it all the time in college Marco, you can
too when your friends pressure you.” I’d thought she was such a
dork.

At first I didn’t even pretend to drink
when I started going out with my friends again. I’d spend whole
parties arrogantly without anything in my hand, confident I could
innovatively handle all the “Why aren’t you drinking?” questions. I
experimented with, “Everyone drinks,” or “I spent my last 500
weekends getting drunk,” and finally “I just don’t feel like
drinking tonight.” Eventually, I admitted defeat and just started
pretending.

You have to hand it to the alcohol
companies, I laughed to myself. They got everyone eventually, the
metal heads, the gangsters, the nerds, the jocks, the hippies,
everyone. Petting my dog one last time I headed back to the
party.

Back in my living room I saw a reunion
group of the skinnies. It was the first time I’d seen Kristine and
Katie since they left for college.

“
Marco!” We all hugged each
other fondly. Katie looked like a skeleton. I wasn’t paying
attention to what anyone was saying, I was staring straight at
Katie’s arms, she def had anorexia.

“
Marco..? Marco, stop being
a space cadet. Are you going to prom, Marco?” I looked over at
Kristine. “Maybe.” Kristine had that drunken stare. Like one of my
uncles. People got like this now, every weekend. Blacked out. I
hated it.

“
I want to go again, last
year wasn’t even fun. Take me.” The convenience of the proposal was
too good to be true. And the idea of telling my dad and brother I
was taking a college girl to prom had a ring to it.

“
Ya, let’s do it.” Why is no
one addressing the fact that Katie has anorexia? I thought. How
ironic that one of “the skinnies” actually developed
anorexia.

“
So Katie, what’s new with
you?” The way I said it made everyone’s body language tighten
up.

“
It’s crazy being back
home.”

“
Katie, you look anorexic.”
Everyone glared at me except Katie. I’d disturbed the social
harmony. I could only assume they’d already talked to her about
it.

“
Anorexia’s not hot. You
know that right?” I went further out of bounds.

“
Oh f you guys, I’m not
going to not say anything. Katie, you know I’m only saying
something because I love you.”

“
I know,” Katie said. She
took a second to put together the right words. “There’s a lot of
pressure at college, starvation is like…the best drug ever. My
mom’s having me go see someone.”
[19]

“
Alright, alright.” I put my
hands up in a “I’m backing off” motion. “That’s all I wanted to
hear.”

[19]
Katie kicked
anorexia’s ass. She’s awesome, an amazing writer and social worker.
Check out her blog: Seattlesnacker.com.

Big-Pacey-Style came up to greet me.
“This shit’s poppin, Marcqizzy.”

I pulled back my hand to block the
incoming dap-up and instead patted him on the shoulder from a
distance. He gave me one of his famous eye raises but I couldn’t
have cared less.

“
Wouldn’t be a party without
you, Pacey,” I said heavily.

The last great secret had come to
Shorewood, Oxycontin, we’d reached the end of the line. Carol, Jay,
Jon, Alia, Jeff, Danny, Mike, Ross, Kate… Pacey was one of the
first. He’d been crucial in getting the others.

The pied piper’s face is sickly thin
and pale. He must have known what he was getting into, already
addicted to 3 or 4 drugs, watching his lessers go off to college.
The first lifelong social climber to realize he couldn’t see the
summit anymore.

“
Yo, you going to Nickatina
next week?” He asked me.

I brushed him off and kept
walking, knowing that I would have followed him off the edge too.
[20]
Last I heard Pacey got locked up. God
help him the day he turns that arrogant look he wore on his face
for 18 years on himself.

I walked by Danny O,
dangling semi-consciously in the crowd. He’d been in the same spot
for an hour. Incoherently muttering nothings. “Punta…Punta…” A
haunting statue to my 7
^th
grade ambition.

I walked out onto my deck, “Marco. Come
over here.” Mark, Chris and Morris were standing around with some
other people. “You have to try this cigar.”

“
I’m straight
thanks.”

“
Come on, try it, it’s Cuban
seed, from…”

“
Nicaragua.”

“
From Nicaragua.”

I could get a contact high from their
saliva, I panicked. The cigar’s probably laced. This is all some
big joke to make me smoke some hallucinogenic drug.

But all my anxious thoughts weren’t
stronger than the peer pressure of Mark’s hovering posture. I
puffed on the cigar while horrific memories of bad drug trips ran
around in my head. After a few puffs I felt nauseous and my head
was starting to spin.

You’ve been drugged! The drugs are
kicking in. This is a panic attack, Marco, I tried to reassure
myself. You’re gonna be okay. You’re just having a panic attack,
you’ve had plenty. They always pass. There’s so many cigarette
butts everywhere. The whole deck is covered in cigarette butts,
you’ve trashed your house. This was the worst idea ever. Now you’ve
been drugged and you’re gonna go crazy in front of everyone and
pass out.

Composedly, I walked over to the
railing and threw up over the edge.

“
Oh shit, Marco’s wasted.”
Mark announced laughing. “Kid’s always going hard I swear. You need
to learn to pump the breaks.”

Breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4. I pulled my
phone out of my pocket and set the 1 hour timer. 1 hour was roughly
how long it took hard drugs to kick in. In an hour I’d know if I’d
been drugged or not. Out 1, 2, 3, 4.

I gazed over at the cul-de-sac down the
block and couldn’t help but smile. The party had supposed to be
last night. Until my dad and brother had decided to surprise me
with dinner out and a movie. They didn’t want me to be lonely with
Allan out of town. As they’d picked me up the whole cul-de-sac had
been bustling with 70 antsy kids standing around 25 parked
cars.

“
Well that’s something,” My
dad had remarked. “You don’t see that every day.”

Back inside Duncan barreled into me and
pulled me up in the air for a spinning hug.

“
Dude, I’m outro. We’re
gonna go whipping in LFP mall.” He spoke in short sentences as if
he was in a huge rush.

“
You’re way too drunk to
drive, Dunc-a-dunc.”

“
Whaa?? I’m good. We’re
going stuntin.”

“
Okay...” I warned
skeptically. He ran off into the crowd. [21]

[21]
Duncan got a DUI
that night and hasn’t driven since because his insurance is too
expensive.

Loren looked different. He looked sick
and even skinnier. He had a big bushy mustache and had let his
stylish shag grow into full fledged scraggily locks. When you’re
cooler than everyone for too long you can start making some serious
fashion gaffes.

“
Hey girl, are you smiling
at me or just thinking about fluffy bunnies? You don’t gotta be shy
girl, all these guys are just jealous. They all had their chance to
talk to you and they all blew it.”

God, he still knew how to work a room
though. I went up and gave him a big hug.

“
Hey Loren. My cousin told
me you’re living in an apartment with like 20 people on Haight
street.” Loren had moved to San Francisco, not for college, just
because.
“Ya man, you gotta definitely be a people person to hump it.” She’d
also told me he was living like a street kid.

“
I saw your music video.
Pretty impressive quality. My brother liked it too.” Loren had a
music group in San Fran, So Artsy Entertainment.

This made him laugh, “Carlo really
liked it? Haha.”

“
I like that Kid Crayola’s
style.” They had this far out hype man/artist that was pretty
captivating.

“
Ya, he was like the glue of
the group, he had to go back to Haiti. Shit’s kinda on hiatus right
now. It sucks.” Very un-Loren like he looked bummed about it.
Loren’s ego and all his exaggerations made his rare moments of
humility all that much more powerful. But that was Loren, always
catching you off guard. [22]

[22]
Growing up no
one dreamed about being a famous big shot more than Loren.

I popped in on Mike mid-way through a
conversation with some Jr. “I just agro farm in outland for like
hours with some serious AoE.”

“
Do you use Howl of
Terror?”

“
Nuhuh, fuck that homeboy,
use something with a little more affliction. We should totally run
a dungeon sometime. My username is ManaSlanger, direct message me.”
They’re talking about World of Warcraft.

“
You play WoW?” Mike asked,
turning to me.

“
I’ve dabbled. E-Rock told
me you’re pretty good. What level are you?” This caused Mike to
laugh.

“
Dawg I’ve got a 70 mage and
a 70 necromancer right now.”

“
How is that even possible?”
I’d played for a month and didn’t get past lvl 20.

“
I sell my 70’s online too.
I get a couple hundred a pop. Easy money. Bro I’ve sold like five
lvl 70’s”

“
Really?” Not seeing anyone
else to talk to out of the corner of my eye I crossed my arms out
of boredom. This caused Mike to fidget with his own hands and put
them in his pockets.

“
You think I’m playing dawg?
Let’s meet up online sometime and I’ll show you my 70’s.” He looked
skinny, tame, anxious. I took a step closer to him to subtly
measure up our heights. Were we the same height? That’s
impossible.

It was as if some spell was broken. I
felt the sting of losing another idol. My own self-image was bound
with Mike being cooler than everyone. Our friendship was one of my
greatest accomplishments. Doing lines together until
dawn.[23]

[23]
Mike went on to become an incredibly successful big time
baller after high school… Oh except not. He’s treading water at a
crappy job while his bad habits get the best of him.

I looked around and saw
Harrison Bung drunk with a blunt behind his ear.
Kace was trying to mack on some 16 year old
private school girl that wasn’t feelin’ it.[24][25]

[24] Somewhere along the line something got
into Harrison, man. I like to think it was the Greg incident.
Whatever it was, he’s locked in now. Since high school he’s been
party or die for life.

[25]
Before high
school ended Kace had already become a dark, intense alcoholic. He
went on to get 3 DUI’s. Like wrapping cars around poles DUI’s. He
finally got sober after the third. In a million years I didn’t
think that he’d actually be able to do it. I actually kind of like
him sober, we can both relate to how difficult it is to be sober in
our society, we share that. I don’t know if there is much hope for
his sobriety because he doesn’t have a ton going for him career
wise or socially. All his older, gangster best-friends-for-life
fell off, and Kace’s smart enough to know it. He posts on Facebook
like three times a day now. He just wrote, “People I believe in
don’t show their face no more…” The worst part is that when I see
him he still thinks I admire him and think he’s cool. I can’t help
it, I act really nice around him. Because he still makes me put my
foot in my mouth, like he’s going to attack me at me at any moment.
The energy between us is so fucked up, probably because we’re such
different people. But mostly when I see him I’m just in awe of what
he could’ve been. (He’s drinking again.)