I was getting ready for Sarah's party when my phone buzzed with a text from Isabella.
Isabella: What you doing tonight?
Me: Going to this party with the team. You should come
Isabella: Is this you asking me on a date? š
Me: Maybe... you scared?
Isabella: Pick me up at 8
Hell yeah. I thought about what to wear. Had to look good but not like I was trying too hard. I settled on some black jeans, a white t-shirt, and my Jordan 4s. Simple but clean.
I picked up Isabella at her dorm at exactly 8 PM. She came out wearing a black dress that looked expensive and heels that made her almost as tall as me.
"Damn, you look good," I said as she got in the car.
"Thank you, baby," she said, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "You clean up nice too."
"So this is my first California house party," I said as we drove toward Manhattan Beach. "What should I expect?"
"Rich kids, good music, probably some drama, and definitely some people who can't handle their liquor," Isabella laughed. "Should be fun though."
When we pulled up to Sarah's house, I could already tell this was going to be different from Chicago parties. The house was huge - like mansion huge - with cars parked all down the street. I could hear music bumping and see people in the backyard through the gate.
"This girl's parents got money," I said, looking at the house.
"Manhattan Beach money hits different," Isabella replied. "Come on, let's go see what your teammates are up to."
We walked through the front door and the party was already in full swing. The music was loud, people were everywhere, and I could smell weed mixed with expensive perfume and alcohol. Phone flashes were going off constantly as people recorded everything.
The first person I saw was Joey, who was already surrounded by three girls and talking a mile a minute with a red cup in his hand.
"And that's when I ran past three defenders for the touchdown!" Joey was saying, using his hands to demonstrate while swaying slightly. "Florida speed is just different, you know? Like, I'm fast fast!"
This dude's already tipsy and it's only been an hour.
I spotted Tyler and Cameron by the kitchen, both holding red solo cups and talking to some girls I recognized from school.
"JAKARI!" Cameron yelled when he saw me, clearly a few drinks in. "You made it! And you brought Isabella! Yooo, Isabella!"
"What's good, bro," I said, dapping him up. "This party is crazy."
"Sarah's parents really said 'here's the whole house,'" Tyler laughed, his words slightly slurred. "There's a DJ, a bartender, and I think I saw a fucking ice sculpture that looks like a football!"
Isabella grabbed my hand. "Come on, let me get a drink and you can show me around."
We made our way to the kitchen where there was a full bar setup. Not just beer and cheap liquor - this had everything. The guy bartending was probably some college kid Sarah hired.
"What you want?" I asked Isabella.
"Surprise me," she said. "But make it strong."
I got her some mixed drink while I grabbed a beer. As we were talking, I heard familiar voices getting loud by the pool.
"Bro, I'm telling you, that catch yesterday was straight out of the NFL!"
It was Antonio, of course, talking to a group of girls by the sliding glass doors. He had a drink in one hand and was flexing with the other.
"You should see me in pads," Antonio was saying, his words getting more animated. "The girls at my old school used to fight over who got to wear my jersey to games. Like, actual fights!"
This dude's drunk bragging is on another level.
"Come on," I said to Isabella. "Let me show you the backyard."
The backyard was even more impressive than the house. Big pool with lights, hot tub, outdoor kitchen, and a DJ booth set up by the pool house. There had to be like 200 people here, and phone cameras were flashing everywhere as people documented the chaos.
I spotted Brady by himself near the pool, holding what looked like his first drink and just watching everything with that analytical look he always had.
"What's good, Brady?" I said, walking over with Isabella.
"Just observing," he said, taking a careful sip. "Interesting social dynamics at these parties. Alcohol really changes behavioral patterns."
"Bro, you're at a party, not writing a research paper," I laughed. "This is Isabella, by the way."
"Nice to meet you," Brady said politely, still studying the crowd. "Jakari talks about you sometimes."
"All good things, I hope," Isabella smiled.
"Always," Brady said, then pointed toward the pool. "Excuse me, I think Joey's about to do something monumentally stupid."
We looked over and sure enough, Joey was standing on a table, completely wasted, trying to get everyone's attention. His shirt was already half unbuttoned and he was swaying dangerously.
"YO! ANYBODY WANT TO SEE SOME FLORIDA SPEED?" Joey yelled to the crowd, nearly falling off the table.
"Oh no," I said, starting to walk over.
But before I could stop him, Joey took off running and dove into the pool fully clothed, shoes and all. The splash was massive.
"JOEY!" I yelled when he came up for air, phones flashing all around us. "What the fuck, bro?"
"The water feels amazing!" Joey yelled back, swimming around in his jeans and t-shirt. "Y'all should try it! This is the best party ever!"
People were cheering and recording. Someone started a "Joey! Joey!" chant.
More people started jumping in, and soon the pool was full of drunk teenagers. Isabella was cracking up watching the chaos.
"Your teammates are absolutely wild," she said.
"This is them on their best behavior," I replied.
About twenty minutes later, Joey had gotten out of the pool and somehow found new clothes. Now he was in the middle of a circle that had formed on the patio, absolutely going off to some hip-hop song.
"OH SHIT!" someone yelled as Joey started hitting moves I didn't even know existed.
The crowd was going crazy, phones out recording as Joey danced like his life depended on it. Dude was completely gone - spinning, dropping, doing splits, the whole nine. His coordination was somehow still perfect despite being drunk as hell.
"GET IT JOEY!" people were screaming.
"IM THAT DUDE!" Joey yelled back, hitting some move that looked like he was swimming through the air.
Antonio, not to be outdone, tried to jump in the circle but immediately tripped over his own feet and fell backward into some bushes.
"I meant to do that!" Antonio yelled from the bushes, somehow still flexing while upside down. "That was a tactical maneuver!"
This dude's so drunk he thinks falling in bushes was strategy.
I spotted Mason by the beer pong table, but he looked different. Kid was usually quiet and reserved, but now he was talking mad shit to his opponents.
"You call that a shot?" Mason was saying, clearly tipsy. "My grandmother could make that with her eyes closed! And she's been dead for three years!"
Drunk Mason is a completely different person.
"Mason!" I called out. "You playing pong?"
"Jakari! Come be my partner!" he said, way louder than his normal voice. "These kids don't know what real pong looks like!"
"Bet," I said. "Isabella, you good at pong?"
"I'm decent," she said with a smirk.
We set up at one of the tables. Me and Mason versus Isabella and some girl named Ashley from my English class.
"Alright, Mason," I said, but he was already throwing.
His first shot went completely wide and hit some girl in the head.
"Sorry!" Mason yelled. "The ball has a mind of its own!"
This kid's drunk physics are terrible.
Isabella went next and sank her shot clean.
"Oh shit," I said. "You said you were decent, not good."
"I might have undersold myself," she said, winking.
The game was chaotic. Mason kept making shots while talking the most trash I'd ever heard from him.
"You can't handle the pressure!" Mason yelled after making a clutch shot. "I'm in the zone! The pong zone!"
Meanwhile, I could see Owen by the outdoor kitchen. Dude had found the food and was going absolutely ham. He had a plate in each hand and was somehow eating from both while talking to people.
"This mac and cheese is life-changing!" Owen was saying with his mouth full. "And these sliders! Sarah hired the right caterers!"
But Owen was also clearly drunk because he kept trying to offer food to random objects.
"You want some nachos?" Owen asked a potted plant seriously. "No? Your loss, plant. More for me."
He's gone.
While we were playing pong, I noticed Latrell sitting by himself on a couch inside, holding what looked like his first beer and taking the tiniest sips possible.
"I'll be right back," I told Isabella.
I walked over to Latrell, who looked overwhelmed by everything.
"You good, man?" I asked, sitting down next to him.
"I think so," he said, looking at his beer like it might explode. "This tastes terrible. How do people drink this?"
"You don't have to drink it," I laughed. "Nobody's forcing you."
"But I want to fit in," he said. "Everyone else seems to be having fun."
Just then, Antonio stumbled inside, still covered in leaves from the bushes, and tried to sit down but missed the couch completely and hit the floor.
"I'm good! I'm good!" Antonio announced from the floor. "This is my new sitting position. Very European."
This dude's calling sitting on the floor European.
"See?" I told Latrell. "You don't need to be like that to have fun."
Around 11 PM, things were getting really wild. The music got louder, people got drunker, and cameras were flashing constantly as people documented every crazy moment.
Joey was still the center of attention, now teaching a group of people some dance he claimed was popular in Florida. Half the people trying to follow him were falling over.
"Step, step, spin, drop!" Joey was instructing, demonstrating moves that looked impossible. "It's all in the hips!"
Brady had loosened up considerably and was actually talking to some girls, though his conversation topics were still very Brady.
"The optimal defensive coverage for that situation would be Cover 2," I heard him explaining to a girl who looked completely confused. "But if you bump the slot receiver at the line..."
This dude's drunk and still talking football strategy.
Cameron and Tyler were absolutely gone, trying to start a "Malibu Prep!" chant that nobody else knew.
"WE'RE GONNA BEAT SERRA!" Cameron yelled to anyone who would listen. "WE GOT THE BEST RECEIVER IN CALIFORNIA!"
"Thanks, bro," I said, but he was already moving on to telling random people about our offensive system.
The funniest moment was when Mason, who was now completely wasted, decided he was a beer pong champion and challenged anyone who would listen.
"I'm the beer pong king!" Mason announced, standing on a chair. "Nobody can beat the king!"
Then he immediately fell off the chair.
"The king has fallen!" someone yelled, and phones started flashing again.
"Long live the king!" Mason yelled from the floor, somehow still holding his cup without spilling.
Around midnight, some drama started brewing. Some dude from another school was getting too aggressive with one of the girls, and I could see Tyler and Cameron getting ready to step in.
"Yo, she said she's good bro," Tyler said, walking over with Cameron.
"Mind your business," the guy said, clearly drunk and stupid.
"Nah, bro," I said, walking over. "She wants you to back up."
The guy looked at us - three football players, all sober enough to handle business - and decided to walk away muttering under his breath.
"Thanks, guys," the girl said. "He was being weird."
"No problem," I said. "Great party though."
By this time, the party was reaching peak chaos. Owen had somehow convinced a group of people to have an eating contest. Antonio was still in the bushes but now claiming he was "one with nature." Joey was leading what looked like a conga line around the pool. Mason was sitting on the ground explaining beer pong strategy to anyone who would listen.
"The arc of the ball is crucial," Mason was saying very seriously to a girl who was just as drunk as he was. "Physics, you know? It's all physics."
Brady had found a group of people who actually wanted to hear about football, though his explanations were getting more animated.
"And then Jakari made this catch," Brady was saying, using his hands to demonstrate. "Like, one-handed, falling backward, between two defenders. It was artistry."
At least drunk Brady gives me credit.
Around 1 AM, Isabella and I decided it was time to round up our people and head out.
"Alright, freshmen!" I called out. "Time to go!"
Joey was still dancing but could barely stand. "Five more minutes! I just learned a new move!"
Mason was passed out on a pool chair with his beer pong crown (which was actually just a napkin) still on his head.
Brady was the most coherent, though he kept analyzing everyone's level of intoxication. "Based on motor function and speech patterns, I'd estimate Joey's BAC at..."
"Brady, shut up and get in the car," I said, laughing.
Antonio had to be physically extracted from the bushes, where he'd apparently made friends with a garden gnome.
"This is Gary," Antonio said, holding the gnome. "Gary and I have an understanding."
"You can't take Gary," Tyler said.
"Gary understands me!" Antonio protested.
Owen was the easiest to collect because he'd found the leftover food and was perfectly content to take containers of mac and cheese to go.
"This party had the best catering," Owen said, clutching multiple takeout containers. "I'm gonna eat good for days."
As we loaded everyone into cars (with designated drivers), I was cracking up at how different everyone was drunk.
Joey turned into a dancing machine. Mason became a trash-talking beer pong expert. Brady got more talkative but still analytical. Antonio became one with nature. Owen found his calling as a food critic. Latrell had one beer and decided he was a philosopher.
"Life is like beer pong," Latrell was saying very seriously as we drove back. "Sometimes you make the shot, sometimes you don't, but you always try again."
This kid's drunk philosophy is actually deep.
"That's beautiful, man," Cameron said from the passenger seat, equally gone.
As we pulled up to campus, Isabella looked at me and started laughing.
"Your teammates are absolutely insane," she said.
"This was actually pretty tame," I replied. "Wait till you see them at homecoming."
"Next time, we're definitely jumping in that pool," she said.
Next time. I like the sound of that.
The night ended with me helping carry Mason to his room (still wearing his napkin crown), making sure Owen didn't eat expired food, and listening to Antonio explain his spiritual connection with Gary the garden gnome.
"Best party ever," Joey mumbled as we got him to his dorm. "Florida approves of California parties."
As I finally got back to my room around 2 AM, I was thinking about how different this was from Chicago. Back home, parties usually ended with police or drama or both. Here, it was just kids being kids and having fun.
Tomorrow was gonna be rough for some people, but tonight was worth it.
Not bad for a Saturday night.