Rodriguez and his explaining of how to take the shot, I totally thought he spoke Spanish. “It means dude. I said I understand it, dude.”
“Sweet.”
“Yup.” But still I wished I didn’t have to eat spit-salt.
“You know you don’t have to do this. They’re just stupid boys,” Rosalyn said. She crossed her arms.
Fantastic. She had to say that after I said I’d do it. There was no backing down now, not without looking like an idiot.
Damn it. I was already an idiot. Her boy had been a little flirty with me and now she wanted me to make a fool of myself. I should’ve noticed before I agreed to the shot. “No, I’ve got it.” I tried to keep my hand steady as I held the tiny glass.
“Whatever,” she said as she started to inspect her manicure.
“All right, everyone. Shots at the ready,” Carlos lifted up his shot glass in salute.
“Ready!” the boys yelled.
“ Por arriba. Por abajo. Por alcentro. Por aldentro .” I said with the boys, then quickly licked the salt, forcing myself not to grimace as a new flash of visions burned my brain courtesy of Carlos. I drank the shot in one swallow, and tried to ignore the burning in my throat as I shoved the sour lime in my mouth with my gloved hand.
That wasn’t so bad.
The boys laughed, and one gave me a high five as I put my discarded lime on the counter.
“Good work,” Carlos said.
“Thanks.” Smiling back at him, I finally felt the confidence I’d been faking. I could do this. I could be one of them. I could control my visions and come off as cool. As normal. I was totally rocking it.
Chapter Eight
“Oookay. Well, thanks for that Carlos.” Rosalyn’s words were clipped, bringing me crashing back down to reality.
That was nice while it lasted. I shook my head as I pulled on my glove. I’d have lost with her either way I played it. I was going to have to figure out who I wanted to be actual friends with and fast. Keeping up with Rosalyn and her mood swings was enough to drive anyone mad.
Rosalyn held up two fingers. The boy closest to the keg grabbed two red plastic cups and started filling them with beer. Being totally underage, I had no idea what my limit was in terms of alcohol, but I was going to have to watch it. I wanted to blend in, not end up like Jess.
When he handed us the beers, Rosalyn grabbed my hand again. “Bye, boys. We’re going to go see who else is here.”
She pulled me into the living room, where some hip-hop was blaring. Not anything I would ever choose to listen to, but a vast improvement from the country music that Rosalyn favored. I hadn’t had my dancing fix in a while, so I’d take it.
All of the furniture in the room had been pushed against the walls. A bunch of people danced in the middle of it, grinding into each other. Others sat on the couch and chairs around the room. I couldn’t help but stare at the couple making out on the couch. Didn’t they feel weird doing that out in the open? The guy grabbed the girl’s boob, and I looked away.
There was no way I’d let any guy maul me in public. I don’t care how many shots I had. It’d never happen. I respected myself too much for that.
I took a sip of the beer and gagged. It tasted like pee, not that I’d ever actually tasted pee, but what I imagined pee might taste like.
Rosalyn chugged her beer and then dropped the cup on the floor. “Let’s dance,” Rosalyn yelled into my ear as she pulled me into the middle of room.
Not sure what to do with my drink, I held onto it. I tried not to spill as I swayed back and forth. When I went out with Axel, I usually stayed off to the side or in dance circles where there was more room, and I always wore something that covered nearly every inch of my body. But this was out of control, especially in my dress.
I should have worn long sleeves, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it in the Texas heat. Just the four inches of exposed skin between my gloves and the cap sleeves of my dress was enough to drive
“Sweet.”
“Yup.” But still I wished I didn’t have to eat spit-salt.
“You know you don’t have to do this. They’re just stupid boys,” Rosalyn said. She crossed her arms.
Fantastic. She had to say that after I said I’d do it. There was no backing down now, not without looking like an idiot.
Damn it. I was already an idiot. Her boy had been a little flirty with me and now she wanted me to make a fool of myself. I should’ve noticed before I agreed to the shot. “No, I’ve got it.” I tried to keep my hand steady as I held the tiny glass.
“Whatever,” she said as she started to inspect her manicure.
“All right, everyone. Shots at the ready,” Carlos lifted up his shot glass in salute.
“Ready!” the boys yelled.
“ Por arriba. Por abajo. Por alcentro. Por aldentro .” I said with the boys, then quickly licked the salt, forcing myself not to grimace as a new flash of visions burned my brain courtesy of Carlos. I drank the shot in one swallow, and tried to ignore the burning in my throat as I shoved the sour lime in my mouth with my gloved hand.
That wasn’t so bad.
The boys laughed, and one gave me a high five as I put my discarded lime on the counter.
“Good work,” Carlos said.
“Thanks.” Smiling back at him, I finally felt the confidence I’d been faking. I could do this. I could be one of them. I could control my visions and come off as cool. As normal. I was totally rocking it.
Chapter Eight
“Oookay. Well, thanks for that Carlos.” Rosalyn’s words were clipped, bringing me crashing back down to reality.
That was nice while it lasted. I shook my head as I pulled on my glove. I’d have lost with her either way I played it. I was going to have to figure out who I wanted to be actual friends with and fast. Keeping up with Rosalyn and her mood swings was enough to drive anyone mad.
Rosalyn held up two fingers. The boy closest to the keg grabbed two red plastic cups and started filling them with beer. Being totally underage, I had no idea what my limit was in terms of alcohol, but I was going to have to watch it. I wanted to blend in, not end up like Jess.
When he handed us the beers, Rosalyn grabbed my hand again. “Bye, boys. We’re going to go see who else is here.”
She pulled me into the living room, where some hip-hop was blaring. Not anything I would ever choose to listen to, but a vast improvement from the country music that Rosalyn favored. I hadn’t had my dancing fix in a while, so I’d take it.
All of the furniture in the room had been pushed against the walls. A bunch of people danced in the middle of it, grinding into each other. Others sat on the couch and chairs around the room. I couldn’t help but stare at the couple making out on the couch. Didn’t they feel weird doing that out in the open? The guy grabbed the girl’s boob, and I looked away.
There was no way I’d let any guy maul me in public. I don’t care how many shots I had. It’d never happen. I respected myself too much for that.
I took a sip of the beer and gagged. It tasted like pee, not that I’d ever actually tasted pee, but what I imagined pee might taste like.
Rosalyn chugged her beer and then dropped the cup on the floor. “Let’s dance,” Rosalyn yelled into my ear as she pulled me into the middle of room.
Not sure what to do with my drink, I held onto it. I tried not to spill as I swayed back and forth. When I went out with Axel, I usually stayed off to the side or in dance circles where there was more room, and I always wore something that covered nearly every inch of my body. But this was out of control, especially in my dress.
I should have worn long sleeves, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it in the Texas heat. Just the four inches of exposed skin between my gloves and the cap sleeves of my dress was enough to drive
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