Jane Story

My freshman year I was invited to a party thrown by a senior whose parents were out of town. It was my first high school party. A friend, who lived a few houses down my block, had also been invited to the party. I managed to find us a ride from an upperclassman. Jane had been my close friend for three years, but the events of that evening changed our friendship forever.

There was alcohol at the party, hard liquor and beer. Jane and I spent most of our time with a group of people who were not drinking. While I was talking to someone, Jane left the room and disappeared. For an hour I waited, expecting Jane to return. As time passed, I became concerned and began to ask around about her. A few people told me she drank eight shots of vodka and went upstairs with a guy. I knew that that amount of alcohol would have a tremendous effect on her 110 pound body.

When I found Jane, she was staggering with her face flushed and eyes dazed. I asked her what she had done. "Something I already regret," she responded. I quickly found us a sober ride home. We were dropped off at a park near our homes, where we could wait until she was sober enough to walk.

As we waited, Jane began to cry. She admitted that it was not the first time drinking, that she often drank alone, for it made her troubles go away. I suddenly found myself between two daunting walls: the peer pressure to cover such habits from adults and the repercussions if she did not receive help She pleaded with me to not talk to her parents, asking me to let her solve her own problems. I ignored her pleading and helped her home. As we approached her house, Jane made a last attempt to dissuade me from talking to her parents, insisting that she was all right. I did not believe her and rang the doorbell to her house. I approached her parents and asked if I could speak with them. Jane fled upstairs and shut herself in her room.

I told her parents about Jane's drinking problem. They had no idea that Jane drank and asked for advice. I suggested they talk to Jane, and possibly get her counseling. Jane then came downstairs and screamed, telling me to leave her house and her life. Her screams rang through my mind as I walked home, and I wondered if what I did was right.

My opinion of underage drinking has always been that it is wrong, but that conviction was put to the test that evening. Although many of her friends were angry with me,

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