The Only Medicine

Back at Mike and Vic’s house, we sit in the garage in silence and drink beer. I don’t think either of us can articulate how excited or relieved we are.

“Are we going to Jaime’s party?” I ask eventually.

Mike looks at Vic for confirmation.

“Yeah, I’m down,” he replies, polishing off his bottle of beer. “Shall we drink a bit more first?”

My body is still fizzing with excitement; I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to get drunk. The three beers I’ve had so far haven’t even had an effect. Part of me is still loath to encourage Vic to drink, but then again, it’s been a happy day—surely he won’t start thinking about Cara? Mike just watches me as I grab another beer from the box, and then he excuses himself to go get his bottle of bourbon.

“You okay?” Vic asks, surprising me, and then I realise I’ve been staring at the door, waiting for Mike to come back into the room.

“Yeah, my mind’s just wandering,” I admit, popping the cap off the beer. I meet his gaze. “And how are you?”

“I’m okay,” he says, turning to face me on the couch. He looks like he’s about to say something else, but then Mike comes back into the room.

Oh god. He has the deck of cards again. I don’t know how great my poker skills are tonight. He sits on the ground in front of us.

“What do you guys want to play?” he asks, shuffling the cards. I don’t remember wanting to play anything, but I let Vic answer.

“I dunno. Do you wanna play Truth or Dare or Never Have I Ever or something?” Vic says.

“Nah, let’s play something else,” I retort, probably a little too quickly. Vic and Mike both look at me. I try to fake nonchalance. “I mean, you know, whatever.”

“We could play poker?” Mike suggests. I could kiss him.

“Sure,” Vic shrugs.

God, that was close. I let Mike deal the cards and try not to fail miserably at this stupid game.


We finish half the bottle of Mike’s Jack and the box of beer and then catch the bus to Jaime’s party. Vic and Mike make jokes on the ride there, but I can’t seem to focus.

“You okay, Mia?” Vic asks, wrapping an arm around me as we walk down the street from the bus stop.

I nod and let him pull me to him. “Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“You can’t be tired already,” Mike moans. “We’re not even there yet.”

“I feel like coffee,” I reply.

“At midnight?”

“Yeah,” I stifle a yawn. “Let’s hope this party is good.”

There are three people sitting in a circle, smoking, on Jaime’s front lawn, but we don’t recognise any of them. The front door is wide open and the stereo is blasting punk rock, so we let ourselves in and find Jaime in the living room.

“Oh, hey guys!” He’s completely wasted. He smothers the three of us in a slightly sweaty hug. “Fuck, you guys are so beautiful,” he says, trying to grab our hands. “Look at you. You’ll make the most beautiful children.”

Mike and I look at each other awkwardly.

“I’m gonna grab a drink,” he says, clapping Jaime on the back as he heads toward the kitchen.

Jaime then sees someone else he knows and totters off, yelling some kind of unintelligible greeting. Vic and I stand in the living room, looking around, hoping to spot someone we know. I can’t see Tony anywhere.

“Do you want a drink?” Vic asks, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” I reply.

We go into the kitchen, but Mike isn’t there—I presume he must have grabbed a drink and then headed outside to smoke. There’s no keg, but plenty of boxes of beer and a lot of bottles of red wine, for some reason. I help myself to a beer, and then Vic and I return to the living room, where Jaime is trying to show a couple of girls a magic trick with a deck of cards.

“He always does magic when he’s drunk,” a voice says next to my shoulder.

I turn; it’s the girl with the pink hair from backstage at Battle of the Bands. Now that I’m not rushing back to the dressing room, I realise that I know her from school. She’s Filipina and in the year below me—Jaime and Tony’s year, actually. She’s about a foot shorter than me and currently wearing a kind of goth-loli white lace dress.

“I’m Carmen, by the way,” she says.

“Mia,” I reply. I turn to introduce Vic, but he’s disappeared.

“You’re in After Yesterday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, you guys were so good tonight. Congratulations on making it through.”

“Thanks. Were you in one of the bands?”

“Yeah, I’m in a band called Remember the Faith,” she says, scratching her head. “We didn’t make it, though.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I can’t remember watching her band. “What do you play?”

“Drums,” she replies. She looks around then back to me. “Man, your drummer is so hot. Is he here tonight?”

“Oh.” I don’t know how to reply to that, so I panic. “Uh, yeah, they’re brothers.”

“What?”

I’m such a fucking idiot. “Um, sorry, I misheard you,” I lie.

“I asked if he’s here. So you guys are all related?” She keeps looking around, like she’s going to spot him in the crowd.

“Oh, not me. Just Mike and Vic—the drummer and the singer slash guitarist.”

“Oh, right.”

Better not make this anymore awkward. I pretend I’ve noticed someone I know and duck away. I can’t spot Vic anywhere, so I head outside, hoping to find Mike. He’s out the back, talking to a couple of people I don’t know, smoking.

“Oh, hey,” he says.

“How’s it going?” I ask.

He excuses himself from the other two and comes closer. “Better now.”

“Why’s that?”

He just laughs and crushes the cigarette butt beneath his Vans. “Do you wanna go somewhere?”

“Like where? Vic’s still here, somewhere.”

“Right. Of course.” He shakes his head and starts rolling a joint.

“Don’t be like that.”

He rolls his eyes and looks elsewhere. I wait for him to say something else, but he just lights the joint, takes a puff and holds it towards me. I take it and just stare at it, still not sure if I want to get stoned if Vic’s around.

“Well, don’t just look at it.”

I take a couple of drags and hold the smoke in, doing my best not to cough my lungs up. I let out a couple of racketing coughs regardless, and I take a sip of my beer to quell them, but it just makes them worse.

“You’ve still got them virgin lungs,” Mike says, holding his hand out, waiting for me to give him the blunt.

“Whatever,” I reply, taking a couple more puffs and then handing it to him.

He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to erupt into coughs, but I hold it in and stare him down. He just raises his eyebrows.

I’m already feeling more stoned than I’d like to be with Vic here, but it’s a bit late now—that’ll teach me for being a show-off. My head feels heavy and it’s hard to concentrate. I don’t realise Mike’s talking to me until he’s halfway through his sentence, and even then, I can’t remember what he’s said.

“What’s up?” I reply.

He just sighs. “Don’t worry.”

“No, tell me. I’m listening now.”

“I know what you’re going to say anyway.” He’s fumbling in his pockets for another cigarette. He lights it and looks up at me.

“Tell me anyway.” I rub my arms, suddenly realising how cold it is out here.

“It’s just hard to keep this up, okay?”

I frown at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re so fucking hot and cold. You barely talk to me when Vic is around and you only want me when no one else is there.”

“I can’t help that.”

“Yes, you can. You can stop trying to keep me a fucking secret.”

I just stare at him, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. “So what? You don’t want me anymore?”

“I’m not saying that,” he sighs. He looks around, then grabs my hand. “Look, forget I said anything, okay?”

“I’m going to get another drink,” I say, even though my beer is only half empty. I quickly turn and head back inside before he can say anything else.


I bump into Vic in the kitchen. He hugs me, then holds me at arm’s length and searches my face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing. I just wanna go home,” I say, scratching my arm.

He keeps his hands on my shoulders and scrunches up his nose at me. “You smell like smoke.”

I wave over my shoulder. “Yeah, I was just outside.”

“Wait a second. Are you stoned?” he says incredulously.

“No,” I scoff. “Maybe. A little bit.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “I didn’t know you smoked weed.”

“I just wanted to try it.”

“Right,” he sighs, then looks over his shoulder. “Can you help me with something?”

The ‘something’ he wants me to help him with is carting Jaime to bed; he’s beyond performing magic tricks now, except for changing the colour of a girl’s dress from blue to puke-green. At least this is his house and he can clean it tomorrow. The girl and her friends have left and there’s actually only a smattering of people still here.

Jaime grins up at me when we try picking him up off the floor. “Mia!”

“Jaime, you have to try standing up. You’re heavy,” I moan, trying to get under one of his arms. I’m too stoned for this kind of thing, but I can’t let Vic see that.

He gets to his feet, with our help, and slumps against Vic. “The party’s only just started.”

“It’s bed time now, bro,” he replies.

We manage to stumble down the hallway with him and find his bedroom at the end of the hall. I have the grace to knock first, because I know what happens at parties, but it’s empty. We work our way around the piles of clothing on the floor and I help Vic get Jaime into the bed, which is also covered in clothing—I can’t even tell where the sheets are.

“Nighty night,” Jaime says as we lie him down.

“That’s right, nighty night, Jaime,” I reply.

He immediately starts snoring and we creep back out of the room.

“Man, he’s going to have such a hangover tomorrow,” Vic laughs, shutting the door softly behind him.

“You’re one to talk,” I joke.

Vic just shrugs. “I’m feeling better now. And I haven’t even drunk that much tonight. I think the hype from getting through has stopped the alcohol working.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Says the girl that’s high as a kite,” Vic says, rolling his eyes.

There’s no one left in the living room, so I guess everyone got the hint and went home. I can still see a few people outside through the window.

“Should we just, like, lock everything up and leave?” I suggest.

“Yeah, and we should probably find Mike,” Vic says. He shuts and locks the front door and we head toward the back, which is through the kitchen.

The back door has a deadbolt, so it locks behind us. We find Mike waiting outside, leaning against the clapboards, chain-smoking cigarettes.

“Oh, hey,” he says. He doesn’t look at me.

“Jaime went to bed,” Vic says, “so we’re going home.”

“Okay, Dad,” Mike says, chuckling. He must be pretty drunk or stoned.

Vic forges ahead, and Mike and I trail after him. I don’t really feel like talking to him, but he grabs my arm when I try to catch up to Vic.

“Hey, I’m sorry about before,” he murmurs.

“It’s fine,” I say, pulling my arm free.

Vic looks over at me as I draw near. “So I take it Mike got you stoned?”

“It’s not a big deal.” He’s silent, so I roll my eyes and link my arm through his and change the subject. “If you’d like, we can go see a movie or something tomorrow? Or we can just sit inside and watch movies?”

He sighs. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

We walk past the playground that Mike and I originally hooked up in, and my mind goes rushing back to that night. I wonder if Mike is thinking about it, too. I look over my shoulder but he’s just smoking another cigarette, staring off into the distance.

Eventually we’re back home, and Mike heads straight into his room with a muttered ‘goodnight’. I help Vic set up the fold-out bed, not feeling drunk or stoned or anything, not even tired. I get the first shower, and I just stand under the spray for as long as I can, letting the thoughts flow through my brain. I don’t even know what to think about Mike; I can only hope that Vic goes to sleep soon so I can go in and talk to him or something.

I get back to room and spread out on the bed, listening to the water running through the pipes while Vic has his shower. I hope he goes to sleep soon. I pick up my phone and send a quick text through to Mike.

“U awake?”

“yea,” comes the reply.

I don’t know how to respond, so I drop the phone back down next to me and just wait. It’s hard to believe that the Battle of the Bands was mere hours ago; it feels like weeks, or like it never happened at all.

Vic comes back in in a pair of grey briefs, drying his hair with a towel.

“You tired?” he asks, dropping the towel in the hamper behind his door.

“I dunno.”

“I know what you mean,” he says, climbing into bed. “I feel equally exhausted and wide awake.”

“I think I’ll try get some sleep, though,” I say, clutching my phone to my breast.

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna turn off the light now.” I reach over and flick off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, except for the glowing letters of Vic’s alarm clock.

We lay in the dark in silence, and I feel like he’s going to start talking or asking me questions or accusing me or something, but he doesn’t. His breathing evens out after what feels like hours, and then he starts softly snoring.

“u coming?” comes the text from Mike, vibrating against my chest.

I slide out from under the blankets and tiptoe to the door. I’m just opening it gently when Vic’s voice comes out of the dark.

“Where are you going?”

“Jesus, Vic, you gave me a fright,” I hiss, hand against my throat.

“Sorry,” he whispers. I can’t see anything in the dark. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” I lie, then slip out the door.

There’s a light on in Mike’s room, but I can’t exactly go in there now—Vic’s awake. I creep to the bathroom and pee, and then sit there, waiting, hoping Vic will drift back off to sleep. After a few minutes, I wash my hands and head back in.

“I can’t sleep,” he says as I crawl back into bed. Dammit.

“Me neither,” I reply.

I pull the sheets over my head and quickly text Mike. “Im sorry. Hes still awake.”

He doesn’t reply. I tuck the sheets under my chin, and think about how long it’ll take Vic to get back to sleep again, and then I can’t remember anything else.

Notes

This fucking album, man, omg.