By the end of 2004 Rudy had stopped being “the boy who lost his mom” or “the one who walked away from the crash with nothing but a bruised collarbone and a week in the hospital.” Somewhere along the way people went back to calling him Rudy, the golden retriever in sneakers, the boy who could make a substitute teacher laugh and carry three trays at once in the cafeteria. So when New Year’s Eve rolled around no one questioned why he was still in town. His little sister Nala had gone to spend the weekend with relatives just a couple of towns over, with their aunt who made hot cocoa with mini marshmallows and didn’t talk about ghosts. She had offered to take Rudy too but he said no. He simply didn’t want to bring down the mood. Nala had been doing better lately and he didn’t want her to see how hard the holidays still hit him… So he stayed home.
Rudy hadn’t exactly planned on going to the party but that never really stopped him before.
He never really planned on any of them, honestly. They just kind of… happened to him. Someone mentioned something in the locker room, someone else offered him a ride, someone promised good pizza… and next thing he knew he was on his way. This day, however, his evening started in his garage, half sitting on the hood of his beat up truck, playing half a song on his electric guitar before giving up because two of the strings were out of tune and he was “too pretty to tune things manually.” His words, not anyone else’s… In all honesty he was still struggling with tuning it manually but he would never confess to that.
Thankfully, he was saved by a friend who had texted him “u coming?” and Rudy had replied “if ur buying me a slushie first”… which he did not do… But Rudy showed up anyway, because he was 85% extrovert and 15% nosy and parties were like mystery movie with a really bad lighting. Which… might be his top choice if you ask him “what do you want to watch tonight?”. The next thing he knew he was in the passenger seat of a friend’s car, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, staring out the window like the suburbs might suddenly offer something more even tho they never do anymore. By the time they rolled up to the house with paint peeling on the porch, music already shaking the walls, Rudy had already convinced himself he’d leave in twenty minutes. Tops. Twenty-five maybe, but that’s pushing it. He always leaves early and ever since the accident he started leaving even earlier. He wouldn’t even wait for midnight.
On the way to the door he already noticed someone throwing beer cans into the bushes, someone crying to their friend on the curb. It was cold, chaotic and very much a small town New Year’s party. The kind where everyone’s trying to forget something and pretend next year will be better. Rudy Maddox smiled anyway because that’s what Rudy Maddox does.
Inside it was the usual: too many bodies, too much heat and waaaay too many people yelling over songs no one could actually hear. He moved like he always did, with a kind of chaotic friendliness, bumping fists with people he only kind of knew and dramatically asking “Who let me in?? Who approved this??” Someone handed him a warm soda and he made a dramatic face and declared it “illegal.” Someone else asked him to play pong and he said, ”Only if I get the blue cup. That one’s lucky, now don’t ask why.“ He lost the game immediately… Same old same old. Same old Rudy fashion. “Yo, Rudy! Heard you skipped football practice to go hang out with the choir kids,” someone called across the room, causing Rudy to grin. ”They had better snacks.“ The laughter that followed was familiar. He knew how to make himself liked, how to float. He belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once. Somewhere around 11:50, Rudy realized he was still there. He was standing in a kitchen that smelled like pizza rolls and spilled root beer, using a plastic fork to fish an ice cube out of his drink while someone next to him was complaining about their parents. There were streamers tangled in the ceiling fan and someone yelling about New Year’s resolutions…. And yet, Rudy hadn’t left. Not even once. Not even for a “real quick walk around the block.” It surprised even him, how fast the hours had slipped. How, despite the noise and the mess and someone stepping on his foot twice, he’d stayed. He wasn’t even looking at the time anymore. He was laughing. He was making awful puns and cheering people on during kitchen dance offs and claiming the title of Uno King even though he cheated once or twice (yes, there was a group of shy kids he wanted to join and help relax a little bit so he dug out those cards somewhere).
And when the countdown started, Rudy was there, shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of people he liked just enough and knew just enough to yell over the music with. Ten… nine… eight… His voice joined the rest. Three… two… one… Midnight.
Cheers exploded. People who hadn’t talked all night were hugging, someone popped a confetti cannon way too close to the ceiling and got glitter in the chips. A new year had started and for one dumb second it felt okay. The party had soon clearly peaked. People had started slipping out with their coats half on, couples disappeared into the backyard and most of the crowd had thinned or migrated toward places to crash. It was that messy, strange energy where the floor was sticky and the music quieter. He had just finished complimenting someone’s completely unremarkable hat (”broooo that’s a staaaatement piece") when he glanced toward the front door or more specifically, just outside it.
There was movement just not the chaotic kind you usually saw at these things. Rudy tilted his head to get a better look and spotted two girls just past the porch. One of them, the wobbly on her feet one with her head hanging a little too far to one side clearly wasn’t doing great. The other, steady and focused, had her arm wrapped around the girl’s waist and was practically carrying her down the steps. It took him a second to recognize her.
Lizzy.
Rudy knew her face… Not well. Just in that “we’ve passed each other in a hundred hallways” kind of way, but also in the “oh, she’s one of those new cheerleaders whose also really close with Charlotte” way. She was the kind of girl people either started whispering about or staring at and he couldn’t remember which. Tonight though, she didn’t look like the version of herself he’d seen on school hallways or heard stories about. She looked… exhausted. Like she hadn’t planned to spend her New Year’s Eve playing babysitter. And she shouldn’t, so Rudy’s smile faltered just slightly.
Just earlier he also caught a glimpse of Charlotte slipping away with someone laughing like it didn’t matter that her best friend was out there dealing with a half conscious party casualty. Rudy watched them disappear into the backyard, sparklers lighting up behind them while Lizzy didn’t follow. She didn’t call after her either.
Now Charlotte was someone Rudy didn’t know that well but he knew of her. Or… Okay, let’s put it this way - he knew Charlotte because of his new best friends, Sam, who was also Charlotte’s brother. You follow? But back to Lizzy - She just adjusted her grip on the girl and kept going. Without thinking much of it, Rudy handed off his half finished drink to someone nearby, ”Hold this for me, I’ll be back in like… five to ten years,“ and ducked out the front door into the night. The cold hit him instantly, crisp and biting, a reminder that the year was dying. He jogged down the steps with a quiet ”Hey…“ toward Lizzy, already slipping into that easy kind of helpfulness that made people trust him. He stayed a few steps back at first, not wanting to startle either of them but close enough that they could hear him. He tilted his head, half grinning in a way that made it hard to tell whether he was being serious or joking… usually both. ”You look like you just realized this party doesn’t have an exit strategy. I mean…“ He waited a beat, then added, eyes flicking down to the cracked sidewalk beneath their feet. ”If I had to pick a dramatic place to emotionally spiral, I’d pick this exact patch of concrete too. Solid cracks! Greeeeat ambiance.“ He knocked his sneaker against the curb lightly, like he was judging it, then gave her a quick shrug, the kind that said I’m just messing around, but also I’m here if you need it. ”You look like you’re doing great but… if you stop doing great, I can assist.“