Dante's Infanzia

Chapter 1
Meet Dante

Chapter Description: Dante's almost 18; a man. But one wild party could have unexpected consequences.

It was Friday, October 17th, 2:30 pm: Less than 10 hours to go. By midnight that night, Dante Willis would officially be an adult. Legal. A man. These ideas scarcely passed through Dante’s mind as he sat in Mrs. Applegate’s AP English class.

What was going through his mind was far less profound. They were questions mostly: Did he have enough kegs for the party tonight? Should he get more beer on top of that? Would his friends actually bring their own booze like the Facebook invite had said? Should he even bother to hold up the vain hope that his inner circle of friends would help him clean up after half the senior class trashed his house, or should he just prepare himself to pony up for the cleaning crew the next morning like he had planned?

Dante had the perfect storm as far as parents went. His mother was a successful psychiatrist with her own private practice. His dad was a restaurateur who owned three different bar & grills in the tri-city area. On the weekends, more for fun than for money, his dad DJ’d for weddings and parties. As a result, Dante had never really wanted for money or entertainment.

It’s not that his parents were stupidly liberal, either. It’s not like they taught him about "safe sex" and gave him condoms and porn at some bizarrely young age --or gave him condoms and porn at all…from your parents….that’s just…ugh.- or continued breast feeding him past an age when he could remember anything. It’s just that as a family, they were rich, they knew it, and didn’t bother to pretend otherwise. When he got into his first car accident last year, his mom swiped her card, and he paid them back by bussing tables and washing dishes at one of his dad’s restaurants for an entire summer. Responsibility and accountability, see?

So what if by age 13, Dante knew how to make about 30 different cocktails? So what if he knew what pills in the medicine cabinet could be combined for the best stress relief, or the best buzz? Most adults knew this stuff too. If anything, Dante’s knowledge of the effects, both good and bad and the risks involved, made him less likely to overindulge in substance abuse when he was an adult. And if he really wanted to do something, he’d figure out a way to do it anyway. So best just make him aware of the benefits and risks. So his mom and dad had reasoned, anyway.

The real kicker, the lynchpin to the success of this party getting off the ground, though, was Dante’s birthday. His birthday was October 18th. His parent’s anniversary was October 18th. That’s right, same day. Dante’s parents used to joke that he was their little anniversary present. But now after nearly 18 years of Dante having to share his birthday- the greatest day in any kid’s year this side of Christmas- and their anniversary- the most romantic day of the year this side of Valentine’s- all involved were a little sick of it.

So Dante made his folks a proposal: They foot the bill for an epic 18th birthday party, they go on a romantic 3 day getaway. As long as the house is spotless and there are no police reports when they get back, no questions asked and no lies told. They accepted. Hook. Line. And Sinker.

Dante wondered if Melissa would be at his party like she had told him. Melissa, who sat directly in front of him. Melissa who always wore her cheerleading outfit on Friday, even when there wasn’t a football game. (God bless the genius who made those things) Melissa who was leaning over her desk right now to pick up a dropped pencil. Melissa who confirmed in Dante’s mind that he was definitely an ass man. Whose long red hair tied back in a pony tail made Dante wonder if the carpet matched the drapes. Whose….whooooah!

Dante was suddenly very aware of a potentially embarrassing situation brewing below the waist. It would not do to get a giant boner in the middle of English class. Especially since he had unwisely decided to go commando today, in khaki’s no less! Dante decided to refocus his mind off the party and certain girls to cool down. What to do what to do?

Hmmm…he wondered if Mrs. Applegate was ever pretty. How long had she had that hideous bicep fat combined with the bizarrely tiny forearms? Was she growing a third chin? Did she think she was fooling anyone with that wig? Was she aware of her mustache? Had she considered crafting her lip hair onto her scalp and thus solving two problems at once? (Ahh…better)

Soon enough, Dante’s mind wandered back to the party. How much longer did he have to endure this stupid class before his lost weekend could begin? Is the clock broken? Who really cares about the historical significance of The Crucible and how it was a mirror and criticism of the McCarthy era? How much longer would he have to endure listening to this fat old woman drone on while a hot girl was right in front of him and he had to get ready for the greatest party ever?!

BRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

Relief, sweet relief, engulfed every neuron in his brain as the final bell rang and he was finally able to stand up and get the hell back home. He stood up, pulled his plain blue T-shirt down a bit, (just in case there was any evidence left over from his previous fantasy), got his back-pack and walked out. On his way out, he heard Melissa call "Hey Dante, see you tonight!" Yessss! She was coming! This was going to be awesome!

Dante drove home with the pedal to the metal, not bothering to worry about trivial things like pedestrians, cops, or other motorists. Really, in hindsight, it’s a miracle he didn’t kill someone.

He peeled into the driveway in his 2010 Nissan Altima, slammed on the breaks with expert timing and came to a screeching halt just as he was about to collide with the garage door. Dante smiled cockily to himself. He knew he should pull in slower, and not risk the damage to his car and his parents’ house; but it gave him just the slightest adrenaline rush. Knowing that he was just literal inches from a grounding and another summer of bussing tables, and that he avoided it every time, gave him a sense of accomplishment. It was like he was more than lucky, like he was invincible.

The garage door was closed, which was the tell-tale sign that his parents were not home. They had likely already left for their weekend. Good; let them have fun. He was going to have his.

He walked in the front door and his eyes bugged out of his head. His dad’s stereo system and turntables were already set up in the living room. Score! Dante checked the fridge, to find it packed with…2 liter soda bottles. Meh. Then something caught his eye. Taped to one of the Coke bottles was a note.

It read: I moved the kegs from the garage to the basement before your mother could see them. The liquor cabinet is stocked and unlocked. Enjoy the mixers. Don’t tell your mother. Happy 18th. The freezer even had three bottles of Jaegermeister chilling in it. Dante wasn’t sure if he had ever loved his dad more than at that moment.

With the most important part of the setup already done for him as a final birthday present from his dad, Dante went upstairs to his bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. Should he change for the party? Right now, he was wearing his light blue shirt and khaki pants. Not a bad look, but he’d definitely want to put on some underwear before the party…just in case.

He was beginning to get a five-o-clock shadow, but decided not to shave. Some girls liked that look. Maybe even Melissa. Besides, he was planning on everyone getting too drunk to care. He lazily brushed his light brown hair off of his forehead. His parents would insist on him getting it cut soon, but Dante liked the shaggy look. When he went to college next year, he’d already decided, he’d grow it out, just to bug them.

Dante opened the medicine cabinet so he could get his deodorant. Bottles of Vicodin, Xanax, Oxycodone, and Adderall greeted him instead. A note in mom’s handwriting said:

There are 30 pills in each of these bottles as per prescription. If there are more than 10 missing from any bottle, we will have words. Love: Mom.

Holy shit! This was unprecedented. This was permission in the disguise of a warning! This was the closest mom had ever got to "Party Out". Dad had stocked him full of beer and liquor and a stereo system. Mom had actually left pills out with the expectation that he and his friends would be using them. This was epic! His parents really did love him!

With that said, and a massive order from Pizza-Hut, Dante was ready to roll. At 5:00 his friends arrived, arms loaded with chips and snacks. By 6:00 all of the kind-of-popular kids had shown up, the ones that actually show up on time for a party. By 7:00, most of the really-popular kids had wandered in and the party had really started in earnest. By 8:30, the druggies and the stoners had bought their ticket in through obvious and unsubtle offers. Now THIS was a party.

This night was one of many firsts for Dante: His first keg stand, his first winning game of beer pong, his first losing game of beer pong,(so much better than winning) his first drunken kiss (though for the life of him, he couldn’t remember with who. Hoped it was Melissa.), Less glorious firsts included his first walking in on people having sex in his parents bedroom, his first walking in on people having sex in his bedroom, and of course, his first party pass out.

It was after what must have been his 8th or 10th Jaeger-Bomb that the world REALLY started swaying and spinning. Suddenly, thoughts of "This is awesome, don’t let it stop" turned to "Oh my god…it hurts…MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

"Dudedudedudedudedude!" he heard someone say, "Looks like Dante’s ’bout ready to pass out already! Total lightweight!"

"Somebody get him over to the couch." he heard another voice say. Dante suddenly felt himself being carried by very strong and very friendly blurs. Probably people from the football team.

"Dude! Leave his shoes on, then we can draw on his face!", he heard the first voice suggest.

"No way man", the second voice echoed in his brain. "It’s his birthday, it’s his party. Least we can do is let him pass out in peace. "

Dante felt very sick at this point, and found himself unable to even sit up. He needed sleep. Right now. It sucked that he was passing out at his own party, but right now he was too tired and too drunk and too drugged to care. He managed to make his eyes focus to check the time. 11:50 the clock on the cable box said.

Too tired to smile, Dante settled for smiling inwardly. He might be passing out a teenager, but when he woke up, he’d be a man.