The Whole Beer

The nerd didn't quite understand what was happening; he had endured all sorts of insults and abuse, but this situation felt unfamiliar. He initially assumed they wanted to get him drunk to film him making a fool of himself, but their attitude suggested otherwise.

That gentle treatment, tinged with a hint of affection, was nothing like the way these three usually behaved. He eyed the beer warily—a mix of intrigue and fear—imagining there might be something extra added to it.

“Come on, kid. Afraid of a little alcohol?” Britney raised an eyebrow, swirling the drink. “It won't kill you—just watch.”

She popped the tab and took a quick sip; Arnold watched the cheerleader’s exposed neck as a drop of beer traced a path down it, and he heard the liquid slide down her throat.

Suddenly, the room seemed to heat up a few degrees.

Britney finished drinking with a pleased smile and held the can out to the nerd again.

“See? There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Iris and Astrid, now flanking their friend, began to cheer the young man on in unison.

“Come on, chug it down!”

“Drink up and enjoy it!”

“No... no... I don't think that's...”

Britney’s expression shifted to something sweeter, tinged with a touch of sadness—like a little girl asking for a treat.

“Please, little guy? Do it for me, at least. Don't make me look bad.”

Seeing such tenderness on a face that had always been synonymous with hatred made Arnold’s heart ache. Every other time he’d obeyed her, it was out of fear; this time, however, he genuinely wanted to do it just to see her smile.

Against his better judgment, he took the beer, feeling the redhead's fingers brush against his for a brief moment. The can trembled in his small hands as the girls continued to cheer him on.

“Chug, chug, chug, chug, chug, chug!” the three of them shouted in unison.

A bewildered Arnold found himself the focus of attention that was as overwhelming as it was surreal; the intensity of the moment was unlike anything he had ever known, filling him with the fear that he might fail to please them.

“Hmm... well, maybe just a sip.”

He spoke in a voice so low he hoped no one would hear, yet the laughter surrounding him told him otherwise.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath; when he opened them, he saw the trio gazing at him expectantly, so he decided to go through with it. In slow motion, he watched the can draw closer to his mouth; the scent of beer gradually reached his nose, causing a slight stinging sensation, yet that did nothing to deter him.

“That’s it, boy!”

“Bravo!”

“Feel it.”

The first thing he tasted was bitterness—not unpleasantly so, but rather a somewhat refreshing bitterness, especially at the back of his tongue. That was followed by another flavor—one that reminded him of bread—and as the liquid went down, a sharp acidity hit the sides of his tongue.

This last sensation caught the nerd off guard, triggering a violent shudder that racked his entire body—so intense that, for a split second, he thought he was going to fall off his chair. His face scrunched up like an old man's, squeezing tears from his eyes.

He tried to pull away, but a hand grabbed his arm while another began tilting the can upward, forcing him to keep drinking.

“Why settle for a simple sip when you can down the whole thing?” he heard Astrid say.

“A real man drinks the whole beer.”

Before the boy could do anything to stop it, the rest of the contents poured down, landing heavily in his stomach. Once the can was empty, the female hands let go, releasing their “victim.”

“You... grr...”

The burning in his throat stopped him from speaking further; he clumsily tossed the can aside and tried to spit it out, but it was too late—he had swallowed the entire beer. He clumsily clutched his throat in a futile attempt to stop the alcohol from burning him.

“Calm down, I didn't mean to hurt you. None of us want to hurt you,” Astrid said, switching places with the cheerleader.

He didn't believe a word of it; after all, his life had been filled with suffering caused by every single one of them.

“You... cough cough... are lying... you guys always... cough cough... lie,” he coughed, feeling a wave of heat rapidly spread across his chest and face.

Just as Arnold braced himself for a retort—or a blow—from the dark-haired girl, she surprised him with a move he hadn't seen coming. She crouched down and placed her right hand on the young man's shoulder. She didn't try to pin him down or restrict the nerd's movement; she simply let her muscular arm rest gently against him.

“No, Arnold, you're wrong,” she said, her voice tinged with a touch of tenderness.

Then, as if a piece of sandpaper had been swept across her face, Astrid’s hard features gradually softened; she shed her intimidating glare for a more welcoming expression, her brows smoothing out and her lips parting into a tiny 'O' that let out a soft breath.

For a moment, it was as if he were looking at a different woman—someone with whom he could spend hours talking about his problems. The longer he gazed at that face, the faster a flush of heat spread through the nerd's small frame.

“We just want to have a good time with you—to have you enjoy us.”

Astrid’s hand brushed against Arnold’s cheek; her touch was as soft as velvet, while her thumb—light as a feather—grazed the young man’s trembling lips. The moment he felt the contact, his face burned hot, and a soothing wave of well-being washed through his veins.

The athlete's unexpected words, combined with the alcohol, made it difficult for Arnold to string his thoughts together clearly. Consequently, when he opened his mouth, the first thing he managed to process came tumbling out.

“Hmm... M-Miss... do you really want that? ...Mmm... for me to enjoy you?”

As soon as he finished speaking, he clapped his hands over his mouth, blushing furiously; meanwhile, Astrid’s chest rose, and her tongue began to trace a tantalizing path across her lips.

“Oh, that’s right, Arnold. You’re going to enjoy us, and we’re going to enjoy you.”

“M-M-Miss...”

In a flash, the dark-haired woman lowered Arnold’s small hands, placed her own hand on the back of his neck, and—with a single, swift motion—leaned in close to him. Slowly, she watched the tenderness in his face become more apparent—a flush like her own spreading across his cheeks, further softening his aggressive demeanor—and saw the entire constellation dancing in his pupils, filling her with a newfound vitality; and above all, she watched as those parted, glistening lips came together to meet her own...