Love Letters From Hell

06 | hurricane emira

Mira doesn't need to drink for this one though. Parker's face lights up as she shakes her head softly, lips twisted as she remarks, "No."

I can see Kenna processing a million things. But she's tipsy enough that they don't make much sense, and, as usual, her mouth works before her brain does and she's grinning and saying, "You hear that, boys? Mira Zahed is single!" Parker's face is hopeful. The poor guy hasn't yet seen the hickey. "Get in line," cheers Kenna, half-sloshing the contents of her cup as she does, "it's a fight to the death."

Mira glances sideways at Kenna like she was absolutely positive that the girl is insane. She's catching on.

"Hell no." Mira laughs, shaking her head at Kenna. "I don't like men enough for a relationship," she adds, which makes Kenna roar with laughter.

Parker looks a little disappointed, but I'm quite accustomed to Kenna's jabs, and Mira's, for that matter, so I merely observe as Kenna hoists her cup into the air rather show-fully and screeches, "Hell yeah! I'll drink to that, ladies!" Mira brings her cup up to meet Kenna's just as the blonde finishes, knocking her cup against Zahed's, "Fuck men!"

Together, they drink, prompting all the other girls in the group to follow, a collective agreement of Fuck men.

Parker blinks and looks like he's about to complain that this isn't how the game works so I elbow him, lifting my own cup to my lips. "Drink up, mate."

When I lowered my cup, Kenna's grinning and so is Mira. I decide that the combination of these two is the worst decision ever made as Kenna winks. "Fuck men but still fuck men, if you know what I mean."

Mira laughs. She has a starlight laugh, twinkling.

"We are going to fail this test," she tells Kenna between her laughter.

•••

By the end of the game, Zahed and Kenna are tumbling over each other, arms locked together as they laugh at the birds flying overhead. At one point, all Kenna had done was point at me wordlessly and they'd both erupted into laughter, almost falling out of the car.

Somehow, miraculously though, with all they'd drank, it isn't either Kenna or Mira who has to run naked across campus.

It's the pretty curly-haired girl Kenna's thirsting for.

By the time we all rise to our feet— in, Kenna and Zahed's case, half-leaning on each other for balance in the hot car park, students start milling, tracing to and from classes, eyes drifting to our group and all the noise Kenna single-handedly is making. She's cheering so loud as the girl pulls her top over her head I worry I'd get a migraine just from it.

"Yes, baby!" screams Kenna, making the girl grin over her shoulder as she shimmies from her jean skirt, revealing lace. "Take it all off!"

She does exactly that. Every scrap of it.

When she's done, she turns to our group, dropping her hands from over her breasts and I swear to god, Kenna looks like she might faint. She blows us a kiss and then she's racing off, eliciting more whoops and cheers from the lucky souls who are trekking the campus today.

When a group of boys near the start of the lot whistle after her, Kenna, shouts after them, "Aye, fuck off, will ya?"

At this point, my cup is empty so I can't even take a shot for that awful accent.