"That would be lovely," she replied and managed to fish out a green strand for him. "You look familiar," she said as she passed the beads to him. "And tall," she added looking up at. She made sure to stay on his right side so she could hear him over the noise of the party; she was still following doctor's orders and had put her earplug in her left ear to prevent anymore damage.
He offered her his arm, walking through the crowd. "I have two big stupid brothers," he said with a laugh. "And we are all very Russian," he said in a silly voice.
"I can not seem to stop growing! I started out the year at only 5'7 and I have not stopped growing," he laughed. And the taller he got, the more awkward and clumsy he seemed to get.
She swallowed hard. "Oh god. You're a de Kooning." She didn't know Anastas very well except by his reputation as a man whore. She knew Kaz and she couldn't enough stomach the thought of that bastard anymore. "Please tell me you're the nice one?"
Then she put her head on top of her head. "I think I'm about as tall as I'll ever get. I'm okay with it though."
"That I am," he gave her his big puppy dog eyes. "I am the nice one, I promise," he said putting his hand over his heart. "I am sorry if my brothers have painted a poor picture of the de Kooning name," he said sincerely. She looked familiar though, perhaps a former friend or girlfriend of Stas or Kaz.
"It is a very nice height for you I think," he beamed at her. "Knowing my luck I will not stop growing until I am well over seven feet tall," he laughed.
"You'd have to be the nice one. I don't know the whore that well. And the other... Well, that fuck face is dead to me." She took a swig of what was in her cup and burped none to quietly.
"I'm Abernathy," she said, wondering if the name might job his memory.
"A-ha!" he said bouncing a little. "I do remember you know," he said putting the pieces together, she had been friends with Kaz and her name definitely rang a bell. "I am sorry that Kazimir is not nice. You two used to be friends."
"Nice belch Abernathy," he grinned. "I am Yevgeni," he said pouring himself a new drink. "Most people call me Yev, occasionally Yevvykins or Bambi, but I must not lie, I am not that found of Yevvykins," he giggled.
"Let's not reflect too much on that asshole," she growled pouring some coke into her plastic cup and then fumbling for her flask and pouring a little rum into it. "Fuck 'im."
She giggled about the burp. "I can belch with the best of them."
She raised her cup to him. "Pleasure to finally officially meet you, Yev. Lots of people call me AB. Or Abby. Whatever works for you."
"We will not," he said brightly. "We will forgot about him and enjoy the night!" he cheered. "Fuck him!" he agreed happily. He was more than happy to not be compared to his brothers.
He gave a loud belch, not quite as good as the one Abernathy had let out earlier. "Not as good as yours," he grinned.
"It is a pleasure to meet you as well Abby," he said taking a sip of his new concoction, he wasn't entirely sure what it was but it tasted good enough.
"Is that some kind of de Kooning thing or what?" Then she sipped her cup." I brought my own. Didn't plan on getting too hammered since we have classes tomorrow. Rum and cokes."
She reached out as if she was going to pinch his cheek and instead just clapped her hand on his shoulder. "That's a good thing. You need some color. It's like you boys don't believe in sunshine."
He laughed. "It is usually what is stocked in the cabinet," he admitted. "Easy access and once you acquire a taste for it, it is not so bad," he shrugged. "You know... I had not wanted to get very drunk but when can you really have scotch and not get very drunk?" he puzzled.
He laughed. "I love being outside but it is this cursed Russian complexion," he playfully shook his fist.
He laughed. "You are right, I should. What is your favorite? Perhaps I shall try that next time," Yev smiled. "I think I would very well get disowned if I drank shit alcohol," he laughed.
He had gotten used to getting his cheeks pinched by pretty, older girls, it still made him giggle though. "Alas, I have been eluded for the last time sun screen!" he laughed. "Perhaps I should apply in layers," he grinned.
"Hey, it's on you if you decide to drink shit alcohol. Sometimes that's all my budget allows." The rum she had tonight wasn't top shelf, but it wasn't that bottom shelf germ killing shit she was drinking last time either.
"Like dressing for winter up north. Maybe use the highest SPF you can legally buy over the counter."
"I like you Abby, you are very genuine," he smiled warmly. "To shit alcohol!" he lifted his cup in cheers.
"Do they have SPF that you can not buy over the counter?" he asked his eyes getting big. "Perhaps that is the kind I should try to get," he laughed. "I have never been up north though I have heard it is quite cold. I would not mind visiting there at some point." He said thoughtfully.
She chugged a good slug to his cheer and then sought out a refill for her cup. There had been some careless partygoers who left their booze and there was a punch bowl of jungle juice that seemed promising at this point.
"Yev! You sober enough to fix me a drink?"
Then she giggled because he was probably as drunk as she was. "As for the SPF, I dunno. You might as well just wear latex paint at the rate you're going."
"Abernathy! I would be honored!" he said drunkenly slinging an arm around her shoulders and leading her toward the drink table.
"You are probably right, I think my friend Emilie can get me latex paint, that seems to be her thing," he giggled taking Abby's cup and setting it down. Not quite the master mixer he made her one of his newly famous vodka concoctions. "For the old country," he said offering her the cup.
Abernathy wrinkled her nose. "Not Emilie Devlin?" She frowned and shook her head as if she'd just smelled something terrible. "You're friends with the devil woman? No way. You're too fucking nice." Then Abernathy remembered she should probably be nice too, since they'd just met.
She took the cup and drank down a large swig while trying to think of a way to change the subject. "This is dreadfully delightful," she said and poked at the exceedingly tall boy. "You're awesome."
"Oh yes, Emilie Devlin," he slurred drunkenly. "I think... I think she is very misunderstood that Emilie Devlin. She has always been very kind to me, although she does make me jump a little every time she comes around," he giggled. Whether he knew it or not, Yevgeni was constantly juggling the ladies in his life.
"You are awesome!" he said cheerfully. "I will drink to that!" he took a long drink from his cup. "And I like your hair, it is very pretty!"
"I bet you she tortures puppies for fun." Then she put her hand over her mouth as if she could take it back by pretending it never happened.
"I am awesome!" she agreed and cheered him again before taking another drink. "Thank you. I like to change the streak every now and again. It keeps me from shaving my head altogether." Not that she would, but dying her hair kept her from getting bored and doing something more drastic.
Yev couldn't help but laugh. He had heard this concern from many other people. It always made him laugh a little. "I think freshmen are more up her alley," he giggled.
"A shaved head?" he asked his eyes going wide. "I am sure you would make it work," he grinned. "But the colorful streak is my favorite. I should do something crazy with my hair. You think blue would suit me?" he giggled.
"Glad I'm not a freshman anymore," she admitted, though it had been awhile (knock on wood, she thought) since her last scuffle with Emilie.
"Yev. Yev. Yev," she said just to make sur eshe had his attention. "I'm going to dye your hair." Then she giggled ridiculously and patted at his arm. For some reason drunk Abernathy liked to poke at drunk Yevgeni. "When we're sober. And I think you'd look delightful with dark blue."
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