Drink it down?

I remember my first drink, and I suppose most do. It's the turning point of some's lives, the momentous step into "maturity", or at least what I considered it at that age. I could claim peer pressure, but I was simply intrigued by the swigs one would take to receive a dizzy, out of body feeling that I envisioned. It terrified me that I was growing so quickly, but I couldn't wait to try it. My original goal was to get shattered before a party, with Kate, the girl I was delighted to finally be so close with, this petite, confident cheerleader who I had always been slightly envious of. I can't recall who first came up with the idea, but I imagine it was Kate, for my 13 year old self was my lowest point of originality, where I temporarily resolved to fit in with the "cool" crowd. I do remember us being near desparate to just feel something, some change, as we anxiously searched for alcohol. Because Kate was friendly with "everyone", or so it seemed, she easily called up a well known early drinkerr, the bad girl who had entered our little suburb so unexpectedly, but she was soon the topic of gossip. Her name was Samantha, Sam for short, and she greeted us at our door, leading us down to the basement that held of the fridge of alcoholic beverages. As soon as I stepped into Sam's midst, I felt uncomofortable, and I followed behind Kate timidly. She had an aura of "coolness" or at least the abilities to bitch anyone out, regardless of circumstances. To this day I felt slightly on edge around Sam, but it's more of an irritation at her idiotic desire to play the image of oh so dangerous, which as led her to drastic consequences, such as ending up as a pregnant teenager. But on this day, Sam handed us each a beer, laughing at our gagging and pinched noses as she suggested we chug. The first sip was shockingly disgusting, and I wondered how on earth I would quietly get this down. I barely got through half the can before Sam ushered us out, as she had other "things" to do. Kate and I clutched our beer cans close to our stomachs, pulling our shirts over them and making a dash to the park across the street, eager for another sip towards intoxication to improve the night. We were headed for an end of the year party, celebrating our graduation of eighth grade and anticipation of high school, full of new events and possibilities (including drinking). So as we raised the cans to our lips, giggling at this newfound fun, my friend Maggie emerged, the infamous drama queen of our middle school, and widely known for her frequent tears and ability to social climb. Quickly hiding the beer cans behind my bag, I tried to wipe the look off my guilt ridden face, knowing Maggie would surely cause a scene. As Maggie started up a conversation about the current rumors, I found myself pulling a move that was stupid and probably asking for attention. I turned away from Maggie, hiding my face and sipping down the nasty Bud Light Sam had provided for us, and of course Maggie spotted me. Her jaw dropped in horror at what she saw, disappointment and- was there a hint of jealousy? I set the can down quickly, a nervous giggle escaping my lips. But Maggie strode away, heading toward the group of girls clustered on the lawn of the host's house. I found myself feeling a bit superior and mature to these idiotic girls, as if drinking before the others made me something they should look up to. Fortunately for my own self in the long run, this feeling quickly morphed into anger and slight embarrassment, as Maggie sobbed to anyone in earshot that I was "headed down the wrong path". Ironically, a few months later when I came to my senses and aimed for more suitable friends, Maggie set her eyes on the more "popular" crowd, throwing herself into the world of drinking, which I certainly heard from her on a daily basis. After that night, the "risky" one drink and drama it caused, I edged away from drinking while my friends gulped it up, and I became the sober, helpful friend. But that was before my first drunken night that would result in me spiraling out of control.