Intertwined

Chapter 41: I Have To Walk, Again?

J U L I E T

I sipped on my milkshake, watching the decorations flowered all over town for the Founder's Day parade tomorrow.

Chase looks at me like a lost puppy, reaching for my drink. "Are you gonna drink all of that?"

"Uh uh," I reprimand. "I told you to get the large, should've listened."

"You're mean," he huffs jokingly, placing his arm over my shoulder.

We were walking down a small street downtown, an hour or so ago, Chase called me up and requested we go out. I had nothing better to do.

Well, I thought Axel and I could have dinner, but he had some errands to run. It's fine, though. It's not like I was looking forward to it.

He tells me about the time his sister dropped a milkshake all over him, minutes before a big soccer game of his started.

"I was big into soccer," he reminisces.

"Why don't you play now?" I ask.

He looks away, slightly upset.

"Things changed," is all he says. I nod, not pushing it.

We stop when the music coming from a house is too loud and we can't hear what the other person was saying.

"Isn't that house Matt's?" he yells over the music, referring to our classmate.

"Yeah, we were all invited to the party, remember?"

"Then let's go!"

I recoil. "What? No. I don't drink."

"Someone once told me she wanted to get flat out drunk at least one time," he reminds, nudging me.

"I don't know..."

"Oh, come on!"

After a good 5 minutes of him persuading me, I agree. I deserve to have a night off, don't I?

"Okay," I give in and his eyes light up as he enthusiastically drags me to the house.

We're greeted by a dancefloor full of sweaty teenagers, grinding all over each other.

"Let's get you something to drink," Chase pulls me towards the small bar.

"2 tequila shots please," he tells the guy behind the counter, proceeding to face me.

"How much have you had to drink before?" he rubs some salt over a small land of skin on the back of my hand, and I feel oddly comfortable with his warm skin on mine.

I shake my head. "Quarter of a beer."

He lets out a small whistle, handing me the small glass and a slice of lime. "Not much then."

"Okay, now you lick the salt, down the tequila, and suck on the lime," he instructs.

"Okay," I'm nervous, but I follow through when he does.