Nightlife ✓

21 | stars

"You got yourself a wager, Tanner." We shook on it. Then I said, "Can you bring back some water for Riley?"

Jake nodded and relinquished Riley to me before setting off with Viv and Riley.

"Hey, Riley," I said cheerily. "Let's eat."

Taking Riley's hand, I made my way through the crowds of people. There were waiters walking around the ballroom with trays of inexpensive finger food—sushi, spring rolls, sliders—and each chance I took, I grabbed one and made Riley swallow it. The girl needed food to soak up the alcohol.

Once she'd had the equivalent of a full cheeseburger, I brought her to a dining table that was in view of the drinks bar. I trusted the Jays and Viv to make their way back here when they had sufficiently robbed the place of their liquor.

"Krista Ming," Riley suddenly piped up. "Why do people call you by your full name?" It was clear she was reflecting on my run-in with some fans of mine earlier this evening.

"I— honestly don't know," I answered. "Maybe that's how they think of me in their head."

"It'd be so weird if I heard someone say Riley Salesi. I'd think I was getting in trouble."

Smiling fondly at my oh-so-drunk, misleadingly coherent and adorably sensitive best friend, I hummed. "Yup."

Riley didn't continue the conversation, but I knew she was busy thinking of something. Her eyes weren't like they were in the car ride here; they were alert, bright and they flitted from the fake candlestick at the center of the table, to the long line where the Jays and Viv were waiting for free drinks.

Viv was oftentimes a closed book, very private and unreadable. But Riley was an open book in many ways. Not only was she a bad liar, she couldn't see why she would have to lie about anything in the first place — and her emotions shone through her face.

That was how I noticed her mood take a plummet. Her caramel eyes swam, lit up like dual moons, and her frown carved out a crease between her eyebrows. A not-so-adorable side effect of Riley's sensitivity; she was an emotional drunk.

"I don't think I'm over him," she announced bluntly. I stifled a sympathetic sigh. I knew she would say something like that.

As soon as Riley could articulate her thoughts, she would tell me. She didn't keep things from the people in her life.

That had caused some tension when she dated Phoenix, who I'd met a few times over the course of the relationship. As soon as Riley had doubts or concerns about her future, she would voice them. Without rationalising them. Without taking it a step further to consider solutions. She had said once that Phoenix would always notice when her mood changed and then she had only two options: keep it from him and hurt him, or tell him and hurt him.

"I didn't think you would be," I smiled simply. "You guys dated for so long."

She whispered, "Then why did it end?"

I answered bluntly, "Because both of you have more growing to do."

The upside to Riley's candour was that she appreciated candour in return. I didn't have to mince my words around either Viv—who was honest but insensitive—or Riley. More than anything, more than the fact that Viv and I studied the same thing, more than our shared hall of residence, I think my best friends became my best friends because I felt comfortable being my most authentic self around them.

Riley shook her head, as if to physically dispel her dark wander through memory lane. She gave me a shaky smile and nodded. "Okay."

"Eat your sliders," I smirked, my eyes falling to the small pile of food I had heaped into a cardboard plate.