The Rum Poem by anais vionet

The rum, I thought. Pirates drink rum, I decided, because then the world rocks like a boat. My foot was tingling, like it was asleep, but I was just sitting on it, which seemed funny.

I managed to free my foot and the whole world seemed more comfortable.
Then a spider was on my face!
I swatted at it, but it was just my hair, which I managed, with dizzying effort, to tuck behind my ear.

Everett, slid off the couch, in front of me, like an alligator off a sand bank. I hadn't noticed him before. He worked his way over next to me, on all fours, like a lazy, wobbly panther.

'Everett, ' I said, as if to establish the fact that that blurry shape was indeed Everett.
'ANN-Ais, ' he replied, and chuckled like we'd exchanged punchlines. He was next to me now.
'You're very, ' he said, as if struggling for the next word, 'PRetty, ' he said, petting my arm like a cat.

Then, still on all fours, he lifted one hand and touched a finger to my right breast, as if it were a sleeping thing he was trying to wake. I watched him, detachedly. He looked distorted, like a reflection in a funhouse mirror. His backside slumped down, like a lion that was full and ready to nap, and he rebalanced himself on his left elbow and licking his lips reached over again.
I gently, preemptively, pushed his reaching hand away, 'Stop thAT, ' I said, 'yourrrrrr drrUNK.'

'YOU'RE, are TOO! ' He said, in sloppy accusation, which made me laugh and then him too.
'Leave me alone, ' I managed to say, pretty clearly. Prompting Everett to frown and give me a jerky, dismissive wave as he, the proud panther, began to look for other prey.

I looked around and saw my purse, on the table next to the chair that was holding me up. The strap was just within reach, so I yanked on it and my purse thumped roughly onto the carpet next to me. My glass, which was next to it, threatened to tip over but settled itself upright.

I fished out my phone, while fighting a curtain of my hair that had decided to attack me when I reached for my purse. 'Hey, Siri, ' I slurred, 'callllll CHarles.'
It rang once. 'Yep, ' he said.
'Come get me pleaZ, ' I said, trying to get my hair and tongue separated.

Two minutes later Charles was there. He held out his hand, which I managed to take while somehow shouldering my purse. He pulled me to an unsteady stance, shook his head and scooped me, effortlessly, into a cradle carry. 'Do you have everything? ' He asked.

I nodded and said, 'Thank you for inviting me, EVVVV! ' While waving wildly as we left.
Once outside, he said, '14-year old's do NOT drink! ' With a real edge in his voice.
'I'm sorry, ' I said, in a tone of tired melancholia. I couldn't help resting my face on his warm chest as he carried me to our house just next door to Everett's.
'You're GROUNDED for a MONTH.' He said in a growl.

Somehow, I managed to make it upstairs and into bed without encountering my parents.

In the morning, while I was busy feeling like death, Charles told my parents, 'She's grounded for a month.' I was. They didn't ask why, and he didn't offer to say.

I love Charles.