Cerise trotted down to Jay’s basement and joined the boys for their post x-mas wrap-up. With only a few days until school started back up, it was imperative to milk every ounce of vacay they still had left. Hence the scene of extreme debauchery that greeted Cerise as she descended into the boy-pit. It reeked of sweat and old pizza and Cerise could only assume they’d just engaged in some sort of disgusting farting contest based on the noxious cloud that swept over her as she joined them.
“Ugh!” she held her nose. “Could you guys be any grosser?”
“Just give us time,” smiled Jay.
“So anyway, it was pretty classic,” smiled Vani, presumably carrying on with whatever he’d been talking about before she joined them. “My grandmother called my dad a speer-chucker. It was pretty high quality.”
“So Jay, how were the States? Oh, I mean the Tdot,” asked Cerise sweetly.
“It was fine.” Jay rolled his eyes.
“Do you have to be reintegrated into normal society now?” wondered Vani. “You know they prob’ly have a twelve-step program you can join.”
“Were you traumatized?” asked Cerise.
“Did they make you do dirty things?” asked Karl.
“Did you see any mullets?” asked Willy.
Toronto, Willy, not ,” snarked Jay. Chicoutimi
“Yeah really, Willy, try to keep up,” agreed Karl.
“You’re such a speer-chucker,” said Vani. “You should join a twelve-step program for retards.”
“Hi Terry! How was your Christmas?” asked Christina when Terry joined the group in Karine’s TV room.
“Fine,” he shrugged.
“Oh my god, I got so drunk on Christmas eve,” laughed Erica. “My mom took a total spaz!”
“Speaking of which,” said Andrew. “What are we doing for New Year’s?”
“We are so going clubbing,” said Erica with authority.
“Screw that shit,” snarled Terry, just to be contrary.
“You should have a party,” Andrew said to Karine.
Steven agreed but Karine said she didn’t really feel like it. Terry couldn’t believe Steven could be so insensitive. He didn’t expect Erica and Andrew to remember that New Year’s was the anniversary of Karine’s father’s death but Steven should have known better.
“We never go clubbing anymore!” whined Erica.
“We go all the time!” said Andrew in annoyance. “Parties are better. You can actually see the chicks you’re trying to mack on. Clubs are so dark you could already be halfway up the chick’s cunt before you realize she’s a dog!”
“You’re all class, Andrew,” snarked Karine while Christina frowned sadly.
“We have to at least go downtown,” said Erica.
“Yeah, we could go to the old port,” nodded Steven.
“Oh my god, and hang out with all the Frenchies? No thanks!” scoffed Erica.
“I could do the old port,” said Terry, smirking at Erica.
“Yeah, ok,” nodded Karine.
“So who’s driving? ‘Cause it’s not me,” said Erica.
“No! No fucking way! I call dibs right now on not being designated driver!” squealed Steven.
“You have to do it!” insisted Andrew.
“I called dibs!”
“But you’re the only one who can be trusted not to drink when you say you won’t,” reasoned Karine.
“Why can’t you drive?” he asked petulantly.
“You know how much I hate New Year’s! You expect me to go through it sober?”
“I’ll drive,” said Terry sympathetically.
“Really?” asked Steven in surprise.
“No, not really. You’re so fucking driving,” smirked Terry.
They all snickered at Steven while he whined like a pussy.
“Oh screw it, I’ll just have a party,” sighed Karine despondently.