Stay Close✔️

02: Problem Solved

"You don't like beer?" he asked in disbelief. "How? What even do you drink, then?"

"I don't really know. Last time I drank was a long time ago," I admitted. "I just ordered the first thing I saw, which happened to be rum. Do you know how gross rum is?"

"It doesn't taste bad. It just stings a little," he shrugged as the bottles came. "Well, I guess I'll have to drink both of these."

Biting my lip nervously, I grabbed a bottle and ignored his triumphant grin. At my first drink, I cringed at the taste. "This," I began, glaring at the bottle, "is nasty."

"You'll warm up to it." He took another swig and I followed suit. "You must be more of a margarita type girl."

"Never had one." He laughed and I continued on the bottle, holding my breath to dull the taste a little.

"Slow down," he chuckled. "You'll be wasted before the night's over."

"That was the idea," I muttered before emptying the bottle of it's contents and setting it down. Things were already a little blurry, but that wasn't enough.

"You okay?" he asked in concern. I nodded just as the bartender brought me another bottle. "Are you sure?" he asked again as I gulped the stuff down.

Believe it or not, the drink was actually getting less nasty. It was an acquired taste, I guess. "I'm good," I said slowly. "Although I think I need something else. This is a little..."

"Aftertaste-ish?" I nodded and he grinned. "I'll ask them for water, if you want."

"No," I said, frowning and looking at the drink menu. "Um, what's a Shirley Temple?"

"It has, like, tequila and stuff." I nodded and he sighed and ordered the drink.

This one tasted much better. I usually made them with Sprite and cherry syrup, but I'd figured this one was alcoholic. They tasted way different, but it was good.

After a few more drinks, Emmett stopped me with a frown. "Geez, Louise," he said. "You should really stop."

I shook my head and looked at both of him. "I'm good. I don't think it's kicked in."

"It's been about twenty or thirty minutes..." My eyes widened and I ran a hand through my wavy hair. "I'll call you a taxi if you want."

"I didn't drive," I murmured. "I can walk the distance. It's only a few blocks." He shook his head and stood up.

"You should really call a taxi," he repeated.

"No money," I said, shaking my head. "I'll walk."

With that, I ambled out of the club within a few minutes—give or take another few—and soon found out I was followed.

"Leave me alone. I'm fine," I slurred to Emmett. He shook his head. "You were drinking, too."

"I hardly finished a bottle of beer," he stated. "I'm fine."

I continued walking, stumbling every so often and, finally, I grew irritated and shoved the heels off.

"Won't your folks be mad if you come in drunk?" he asked suddenly.

I frowned at him. "No."

"Wow. Mine would kill me."

"Well, where exactly did you plan on going?" I asked with a smirk.

"I'm not drunk," he reminded me. "Even if I had been, I'd have stayed at a friends house or something."

Glaring at the ground, I made my way down the street with my bare feet. "I can do whatever I please," I murmured. A small thought crossed my mind about how much freedom I had compared to the people in my class.