From the prompt: "Memories..."
"I've Never"
“So let’s do this,” Taran urged.
Keith glanced at the stairs apprehensively. “Are you sure your mum won’t mind?”
Kirk rolled his eyes. “You are so uptight, O’Connor. Don’t you people in Ireland have fun, or is it too much work avoiding being blown up by the IRA?”
Keith scowled. “I’m Catholic. Don’t give a fig what you Yanks think about the Glorious Cause.” Then he smirked. “’Sides, drinking age is sixteen. I was baptized in beer and bottle-fed on rum. I can hold my liquor.”
Jared laughed. “Okay then. Let’s get smashed. We should play a drinking game.” He eyed the pack of cards on the coffee table. “Old Maid?”
Pedro shook his head. “That’s a girls game, man. How ‘bout ‘I’ve Never’?”
Keith frowned. “How do you play that?”
Kirk went for shot glasses, Taran on his heels for Vodka.
Jared plunked down on the carpet opposite Keith. “Okay. I’ve Never. We pour a round and sit in a circle. One of says, ‘I’ve never...kissed a pig.’ Whatever. Something dumb like that. Whoever has done it has to take a drink. We go all around the circle and keep going ‘till everyone’s smashed.” He chuckled. “Ya learn some interesting stuff about people this way.”
Pedro added solemnly, “And you can’t lie.”
Kirk returned, handing out shot glasses, and Taran giggled wildly, pouring them all generous amounts of the clear liquid.
“Me first!” Taran called out, waving his hand in the air like an eager first-grader who knew the answer to the teacher’s question. “I’ve never, like, French-kissed another guy.”
Everyone looked at everyone else, but no one drank. Taran’s face fell.
Kirk grinned gleefully. “I’ve never kissed a cow.”
Taran shot him a venomous glare before knocking back the shot of vodka and pouring himself another.
Pedro smirked. “I’ve never kissed someone’s mama.”
Kirk and Jared drank.
Taran giggled. Keith wondered if he was already drunk.
“Whose mama?” Taran pressed.
Jared smirked. “Willow Clark’s mom.”
Kirk’s eyes went wide. “No way! Me too! She looks young.”
“My turn,” Keith cut in. “I’ve never...played strip poker.” He wasn’t surprised when the other four drank.
Jared was looking mildly buzzed. “I’ve never...kissed two different girls at the same party, without a kissing game.”
The other four drank.
Half an hour later, four of them were smashed, but Keith was still only pleasantly buzzed.
“You’re boring, man,” Pedro declared. He eyed the redhead, about to offer a good question, when a giggling Taran blurted out:
“I’ve never killed anyone.”
Pedro blinked when Keith knocked back his shot, jerked out of his drunken haze. The other three were near passing out.
“I’ve never murdered anyone,” Pedro challenged, ignoring Jared’s incredulous guffaw of, “Duh.”
Keith held his gaze steadily, the laughter suddenly gone from his blue eyes, poured himself another shot and drank.
“I’ve never picked up a gun and shot someone,” Pedro said in a low voice.
Keith drank.
Pedro’s eyes were dark. “I’ve never snapped someone’s neck with my bare hands.”
Pedro watched, alarmed, while Keith thought back quickly before swallowing the colorless poison again.
Pedro scooted closer to him, oblivious to the rip-roaring drunk trio giggling like a bunch of hyenas.
“Will you tell me about it, Keith?”
The red-head winked with his usual bawdy cheerfulness, though his eyes were devoid of emotion. “Eh, no lad. I’d have to kill you too.” Then he looked down and added, “I’ve never fallen in love.”
And he drank.
INDEX
HOME
NEXT
BACK
© Agent Duo 2004