Zalfie - How to Live

7. How To Drink Liquid Fire

A/N Okay so I finished writing the Prologue. You don't have to read it, but you might want to!xx

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Before I was ready, Zoe was standing up and beginning to race away from me. I scrambled up and sprinted after her. We stopped running in front of an old, cherry red convertible.

"My ride," Zoe said, affectionately patting the car. Then she ordered, "Get in."

She slid into the driver's seat and I sat beside her, on the passenger side.

She began eyeing the rearview mirror as she slowly backed out of her spot, twiddling the wheel.

After we had been driving for a few minutes she randomly barked out, "Strawberry Hill. Ever been?"

I shook my head.

"Good," she replied, her answer revealing nothing.

We drove for another fifteen minutes before coming to a forest on a sloping hill. I could hear a burbling creek from the car.

She hopped out of the convertible and I followed--I couldn't do much else.

We didn't exchange another word until we were both sitting on dirt in front of a river.

"Dig," she commanded.

And I did.

I'm not sure how long we were digging exactly, but Zoe managed to talk the whole time, her ombre hair flicking in the wind. Her face was heavy in concentration, her eyebrows coming together slightly at the brink of her nose. Her low-cut top dipped further, exposing even more cleavage. Her lips were painted blood-red, her nails a light pink. She had done a cat eye that day and was wearing black disco pants. Her shirt was grey and loose, the collar dipping down low.

It was hard to dig with her looking like that. I couldn't help but concentrate on her opposed to the constantly-growing pile of dirt. My hands worked more slowly and I didn't bother to look at them.

In fact, I couldn't look away from her for a second.

Her face was tilted downward, her eyes looking down at her slender hands. In this light, her cheek bones were more prominent and her eyelashes looked even longer than usual. She was adorably concentrated on the task, determined to do whatever we were doing.

"Found it!" Zoe yelled excitedly and my eyes snapped away from her shirt.

"Found what?" I asked lamely.

Zoe waved a bottle in my face as an answer. "There are two more," she said and continued digging.

This time I helped. I found the second bottle and actually got to read the label. It was a cheap brand of red wine.

"My least favorite," Zoe said, gesturing to the bottle. Then she added, "I think it's a bad omen that we dug up the red and white wine first."

It was.

I eventually found the third bottle. As soon as I pulled it out of the ground, Zoe grabbed it.

"My favorite," she announced. Then she gave me a conspiratorial smile and said, "Let's save the best for last, shall we?"

She unscrewed the white wine (no corks here) and took a deep sip, as though it was ambrosia.

She winced slightly as the wine hit her tongue and handed the bottle to me. I took a sip and the liquid seemed to burn as it hit my throat. Liquid fire.

Zoe laughed at my expression and took the wine from my hand again. She took a long gulp from the bottle and passed it to me.

Her lips had left a bloody crescent on the top of the bottle.

This time I took a longer sip, the achohol making my brain fuzzy. It wasn't a bad fuzzy either--once you got used to the foul taste it felt good to drink. I was very welcome to forget my worries and I could tell that's what the wine was doing.

Methodically, we passed the bottle back and forth, taking longer and longer drinks and staring at the flickering creek. The sun was beginning to set and the reflection of it on the water was lovely.

Taking another sip, Zoe's voice shattered the silence.

"I got this idea from Looking for Alaska," she said, her eyes still on the river.

"Never read it," I said, our hands touching as she passed me the wine bottle.

"I highly suggest you do," Zoe said. "You'll be a changed man."

I took my gulp and handed off the wine.

"Can you give me one good reason why I should read it?"

She took a sip, calculating her response. Then she took another and threw the bottle into the bushes.

"It's an infinite novel," she finally said, wiping her mouth on her hand.

"An infinite novel?" I repeated, my tone giving away my amusement.

Zoe raised her eyebrows at me. "Reasons, hm? And my reasons aren't good enough for you? I need to stick with logic then."

I shrugged. "Don't think you can give me a good reason if it's not factual."

Zoe sighed and closed her eyes. "I suppose it is that way for some," she said.

There was more silence. The water moved more, the wind caused it to stir. The sun went a little bit more behind the trees.

"It's funny," Zoe said eventually. "It's entertaining. But it also it hits on some of the harder questions of life.

She untwisted the red wine's cap and grimaced at the smell. "My least favorite," she reminded me.

"Why do you buy it if you think it's disgusting?" I asked.

Zoe gave me a smile. "It's for Alaska," she said. "Another reason you should read the book. The main character has a cool ass name."

She took a sip and cringed, then handed it to me.

I took a little taste. Odd how much Zoe hated it. It tasted almost identical to the white wine, maybe a little more bitter.

"That's not enough," I told her, though I already knew I was reading it. I just loved to hear her passionate.

"Of course not," Zoe said, her bubblegum nails making a ringing sound on the glass of the bottle as they hit it. "You want to know why you should read it?"

I nodded, slightly nervous.

She gurgled the wine. God, she was good at a build-up.

"You should read it because I'm Alaska Young and you're Miles Halter. And you're supposed to halt me, like he was supposed to halt her. You're supposed to save me, even though I might be unsavable."

She began gulping down the red wine, her least favorite. She finished half the bottle then handed it to me.

Without a word, I chugged the rest of the bottle down, my head spinning at the amount of alcohol. I threw the empty bottle into the bush and I heard the clink as it hit the white wine bottle Zoe had thrown.

Her eyes wet, Zoe grabbed the third bottle of wine and screwed off the cap.

"To Alaska!" she yelled, her voice riveting against the trees, rocks, and bushes of the forest, causing a thousand Zoes to echo the first one. She took a gulp of the wine and handed it to me.

"To Alaska," I chorused quietly, taking a sip of the substance.

It was sweet. So sweet it almost caused me to retch.

I looked down at the label on the bottle. It read:

Strawberry Fields

Strawberry Wine

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Anyone want to tell me why they think that Zoe doesn't like red wine? xxx

Like I said before, I updated the first chapter, so you might want to read that really fast as I will be referencing it a couple of times probably.