Watch Me Disappear

him.
    “Playing hard to get,” he says. “I like it.” He stands up, stretches, and scratches his stomach. “You can have my seat. I gotta piss and get a refill anyway.”
    Jessica looks at Katherine and me. I just shrug, and she takes the seat. There is a gap big enough for one of us on the sectional couch. Katherine gives me a look that says “The floor’s yours,” and takes that space, hugging the arm rest and keeping herself clear of the guy to her left.
    “Take a load off, shorty,” says the one who’s laying on the floor, leaning on his side and staring intently at the television. I think it’s funny that he called me “shorty.” As far as I can tell, he hasn’t even looked at me.
    I move over to the edge of the coffee table, set down my beer, and sit on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. This is “real fun”? Sitting in a dingy living room watching boxing on a big-screen TV with four guys who communicate mostly in grunts? Behind me on the couch, Jason is freely groping Maura, kissing her neck and ears. Jessica and Katherine are too far away for me to try to chat with them. I just sip my beer and try to look casual. It’s possible that I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life. And we don’t have to be back at the Morgans’ for two hours.
    A commercial comes on and I turn at the sound of a little shriek from Maura. Jason is up on his feet with Maura over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. He smacks her butt. “You all entertain yourselves,” he says, stepping over me and carrying Maura up the stairs. The other three guys laugh. I look to Jessica and Katherine to see if we should be concerned but they seem to think nothing of it.
    Seeing my chance, I slide up onto the couch. The kid who gave Jessica his seat gets up and sits beside me. He searches his pockets and produces a little plastic bag. He pulls the coffee table closer to him and rolls a joint. The other guys and Jessica gather around for a puff. Katherine and I stay at our corners of the couch. I see Katherine slyly sneak a pill from her purse to her mouth and wonder if I should get another beer.
    The one who called me “shorty” looks around and then goes into the kitchen. He returns with another beer for each of us, saving me the trouble of making a decision and also preventing me from standing up. If I had stood up, I probably would have thought twice about having a second beer, but sitting there on the couch, basking in discomfort, another seems like a good idea.
    A beer-and-a-half later, Maura and Jason still have not returned. I get up to go to the bathroom and the room spins, sending me stumbling to the side.
    “We’ve got a cheap date here, boys,” one of the guys says.
    “You gonna make it, kiddo?” asks another.
    “I’m fine,” I say, but my tongue feels heavy and the words sound funny. I hear myself giggle. I wobble my way through the kitchen down the hall, leaning against the wall to keep a straight path.
    The bathroom is lit by a harsh fluorescent light over the sink, making the sea-foam green color of the tile on the walls look institutional. I glance at myself in the mirror. My face is blotchy. I lean closer and focus on my eyes and suddenly I feel like crying. What am I doing here? This is not better than being friendless and just staying home. Even before Paul and Missy got together, I spent plenty of Friday nights at home if Missy went out with Wes. What am I doing with these people?
    Forgetting my makeup, I splash water on my face and then watch horrified as mascara puddles below my eyes. I grab some tissues and do my best to get it off, the result of which is red marks under my eyes and the distinct appearance of one who has been crying. I decide I’ll just have to wait until my face looks normal again, but then someone knocks on the door.
    “Lizzie, are you all right?” Jessica asks.
    “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say through the door.
    “Hurry up,” she says. “I gotta pee.”
    I open the door and she rushes past me, not even waiting for me to leave or shut the door. I’m not ready to go back out into the hall, so I shut the door and turn my back to Jessica.
    “Maura’s ready to go,” she says, when she’s washing her hands. “Are you crying?” she asks.
    “No, I just had something in my eye and I got my mascara all messed up,” I say.
    “Yeah I hate that,” she says, leading me back down the hall.
    Maura and Katherine are standing by the door when we get back to the living