Cabin in the Woods

It was difficult being a senior in high school when your boyfriend and your best friend were both on to the next chapter in life already. Why sit learning about economics when I could be smoking a bowl with James and Curtis? I started cutting out of class fairly quickly into the year. Curtis worked at a car dealership downtown detailing used cars for sale. Much to the dismay of the owner of the dealership, whom also happened to be a member of our church and family friend, I would wander in at all sorts of odd hours during a school day. I have orientation I would say, I don't need to be there. Uh... gym, who cares about gym? 

One day, as I cruised over to the dealership, no doubt high and contemplating the beauty of the earth, I pulled into the parking lot to see Brother Kastner standing on the side of the road holding up a large poster board with writing. What is he doing I thought... surely his father knows how to throw down some money for marketing. They sell brand new cars for god-sakes, this isn't some sleazy plaid-jacket wearing used car dealer we are dealing with. Next time am I going to see him dressed in a chicken costume, sweatin', ear buds in his ears as he pretends to dance on the corner of the street as if its just him? 

I pulled my old honda into the parking lot and glanced over at the sign. "GO BACK TO SCHOOL MARY!". Shit.

I certainly should have taken this as a slap on the wrist from a parental figure, but my stoned self just giggled at the fact that he would even MAKE the sign in the first place. Who has the energy for that? 

Here is the deal. Curtis was my best friend. And to make things that much sweeter, he also was very close to my boyfriend. So the 3 of us? Fuck the responsibilities. Fuck what the rest of the world expected of us. We were content causing all sorts of chaos in our own reality. 

When my birthday came around, we collectively decided it was time for a serious party - one that our friends would be talking about for years to come. 

Curtis' family owned a small 2 bedroom cabin up in northern Napa. High enough to be surrounded not by the given Napa Valley vineyards, but by redwood trees towering over, causing the long days to be in endless darkness with the shade. We had the bright idea to make flyers. What is this? Some generic stereotypical 90's movie? Yeah well, I made the mistake of leaving that flyer in the copier... one that my parents owned.. in our library. And yes my mom found it months after I thought the whole event to be the success of the fucking decade.

B.O.B it said. Meet us in the parking garage downtown so we can carpool... well at least we were being environmentally friendly! We did the hour drive up to the cabin, all of us piled in each others cars, anticipating this moment of pure freedom. Freedom from our parents, from society, from the pressure of being seniors about to embark on a greater more meaningful path. For the moment, we were young, we were liberated.

The drugs were passed about casually as the trip to the cabin came to an end. We are close now, close to parking the cars and leaving the world behind... if only for a fleeting moment. One kid got so hopped up on acid by the time we pulled into the driveway he leapt out of the car, grabbed an axe leaning on the side of the house and took off into the darkness. We didn't see him till the sun came up the next day. I have not the slightest idea what he did out there in the woods by himself, seeing creatures appear in the night, chasing imaginary demons. Luckily after scanning local newspapers during the week that followed, I found relief knowing he didn't kill someone. 

The cabin was small, musty, filled with furniture that has sat dormant 90% of the year. It was perfect.

And in that moment, I watched as our group of friends truly celebrated each other. The alcohol was passed, the bong gingerly given hand to hand, music blasting. And then he grabbed my hand, pulled me into the bedroom and under the covers. It was quick, and casual. Not like the fist time where you remember that nervousness and excitement of doing something you vowed to wait for. It was messy, sloppy, fast, and yet so full of passion. And as we held each other afterwards, giggling, embracing the moment, and naively unaware that others could hear... our friend drunkenly burst into the room. I laid buried under the covers, acutely aware that the air felt heavy around me. "Holy shit it smells like sex in here!" He laughs, climbs on the bed and starts pretending to hump James as if this is some male ritual to congratulate your fellow mate on a success.  James laughs unashamed and i quickly giggle and go along...

It wasn't for a few weeks after that he admits it was his first time. First time? Perhaps I should have been more monumental, sexier, dirtier... but do I even know what that means? Or am I just a young girl, laying with her legs spread open and anxiously aware of her limited experience? 

We were driving down the small highway in Napa. 2 lanes, each side crowded with Northern California blossoming vegetation, the occasional Eucalyptus tree. Pink Floyd is quietly serenading us in the background, the neon lights of the car stereo eliminating our faces in cool blue. If we are going to keep doing this, I need to get on birth control. I say. 

You want to keep doing this? I hoped for it.. but didn't want to expect it.

Well do you? I said. 

Of course I do! I loved it. 

Well then ok. I turn off the highway and start heading East towards his house.

I will find some birth control.