“a clock ticks till it breaks your glass and I drown in you again”—Clarity — Acoustic by Foxes
“Can you believe it?” Miles, best friend number two out of three, asks as I scoot next to him in our booth. “Carter actually seeming to like a girl?”
No, I cannot believe it, but I sure hope he’s being sincere. I cannot deal with having to cut off my best friend because he broke my sister’s heart which then ends up in her death. If it doesn’t end with her death either way.
Just a week ago I had to find out that my sister wants to die. And I mean, she doesn’t just say she wants to die, she is planning her death. She is full on writing her goodbyes. As it seems, Colin found out as well.
Lily and Colin have been spending an awful amount of time together this past week, and they didn’t even know the other a week ago. So I assume Colin is trying to save her life. At least I hope he fucking is, otherwise I will end him.
The worst part is, I cannot even talk to my own sister about it. She will most likely talk her way out of my confrontation.
That doesn’t matter today. My sister is safe with Colin, I know that. So there is no need to worry right now. Tonight, I will have fun. I will get drunk and forget the little sex-scene I’ve had to witness this afternoon when I came back home from Wesley Hills.
I didn’t think I’d ever have to drink myself into oblivion to forget having seen someone have sex, but here we are. Even if it’s just about some finger fucking but seeing your best friend having his hand shoved in your twin sister’s pants… no thank you, I definitely need a couple of drinks after that.
“Let’s do another round of shots!” I cheer loud enough for the entire rest of my team to holler. They know tonight’s on me. Or more like Colin Carter. That guy promised to give me his credit card if he didn’t have to get me a present.
He didn’t have to get me one either way, but I mean, he sure can afford a couple of drinks.
Don’t get me wrong, I myself have had the privilege to grow up rich. But Colin Carter tops pretty much everyone at St. Trewery. His father is a hockey coach. Though, not just any coach… he’s coaching the New York Rangers. Well, not right now. Currently he’s being a pain in our asses.
Colin said Mr. Carter wants to stay close to his family for a while which is why he took a break from the NYR. Not that I really care. Coach is coach. They’re all pains in our asses. Though, this one, he’s extra assy.
Grey, best friend number three, also known as the mother in our friend group, has his tongue stuck in his boyfriend’s mouth, which is why Izan and Grey are the very last to even acknowledge the next round of Tequila shots that are being handed out to everyone.
On the count of three, we all lick the salt off the back of our hands, down the Tequila shot and shove a slice of lime into our mouths.
The second my shot glass hits the top of the table my eyes shoot toward the entrance doors. I normally don’t care who enters this bar, don’t bother to check even if it’s some college chick marching in here, but I do now. I do care because the woman walking inside is Sofia, wearing anything but what I was expecting her to wear.
It’s October, and this woman decided to wear a black dress that doesn’t go past her mid thighs. The dress is skin-tight with triangles cut out right around her waist up to her ribs. And the cleavage… who the hell let her go out dressed like this. Without a bodyguard, I mean.
She looks flaming hot, no doubt, has my dick hard in mere seconds. And by the looks of the other single men in this sports bar, I believe they agree with me.
“Is she new in the city?” Miles asks, looking Sofia up and down, but for once he seems far too uninterested. Usually Miles is the first to tap a woman the second he gets a chance to. Call it dealing with emptiness.
Miles King needs something, or rather someone, to fill up the void in him ever since Millie has died, leaving him with a daughter to care for at the age of eighteen. Now, at the age of twenty-two, Miles is the biggest manwhore I know—without taking or offering money for it, that is. And for what? So he can shut off his brain for a hot minute and forget that Millie is no longer in his life.
“Yes and no,” I answer quickly. Quickly, because Sofia has spotted me and is making her way over to us.
She’s wearing a big white smile on her face, at least until some guy whistles after her. At this very point, Sofia turns around, looking for the guy that is staring at her boobs rather than her eyes.
The second she’s turned around, my eyes land on the wisteria-colored bow on the back of her head.
Always got to have that damn ribbon in her hair.
“Have you never seen a woman?” I hear Sofia ask, even over the voices of other people around and the music playing in the background.
Archer Kingston keeps awfully quiet now. God, I’ve had him on my blacklist ever since he laid a hand on my sister just an hour ago, and now he’s crossing another line. “Dressing like that is calling for it.”
“No, it is not,” Sofia says as a matter of fact. “I’m not asking to be cat-called just because I show a little bit of skin. The question you should be asking yourself is if I want you to make some disgusting comments about how hot I look in my dress and how desperate you are to get it off of me, or if you’re just thinking like a rapist.”
Her chest is visibly rising and falling as she breathes a little too heavily from what I’d assume must be rage. “But let me guess, you play football for the sake of getting girls? How’s that working out for you?”
Not good at all. Everyone knows that.
Archer might have a pretty face. And yes, he does get some attention for his face and body but the second he opens his mouth… it’s over.
He’s unapproachable, hard to crack. At least that is what he told his football friends who spread said rumor. But he isn’t. Not in the slightest.
“Working out just fine.”
Sofia laughs right into his face, brushing her hair back behind her shoulders. “So that’s why you’re sitting all alone at this table, huh?”
I stand corrected, Sofia has changed. A whole lot. But I’m not sure I like that very much. She’s no longer the innocent girl that backs away from loud noises. She’s no longer the Sofia I knew. But I bet she thinks the very same about me.
I’ve changed too. That’s what happens when you grow up.
On second thought, maybe the mouthy Sofia could be an adventure.
“Where do you know her from anyway?” Miles’s voice makes it through to me. I turn my head only to find him take a sip from his beer.
“Why would you think I know her?”
“Alright, I think you’ve had enough alcohol, Marsh,” he says, pushing my glass filled with some kind of mix over to Grey. Honestly, I barely even remember what I’ve ordered. “I asked if she was new in the city, you gave me an answer. Oh, and she’s on her way over here.”
Just as the words leave my best friend’s mouth, Sofia approaches us. “Aaron?”
Looking away from Miles, I turn to look at Sofia, meeting her eyes dark eyes. “Be my guest, Sofia. Take a seat.” I gesture toward the only other free seat at out booth.
Thanks to Lily and Colin leaving early, we have some extra space here. Naturally, a booth doesn’t sit up to twenty-five people, so the team kind of spread all around the bar, but it doesn’t matter. I’m with my closest friends, and their companies.
Sofia looks at Grey, smiles widely then takes a seat next to him, right across from me. “I know it’s after midnight already, but… happy birthday, Aaron.”
“Thanks, Icicle.”
“Stop calling me that.”
Sofia lays her hands down on the table, interlocking them. I reach over, placing my hand right over hers. The cold instantly travels over on to my skin. “You’re still as cold as one.” Withdrawing my hand from hers again, I now lean back in my seat, holding my hands by my nape.
She glares at me. Clearly, she doesn’t like hearing her nickname again, but that’s just why I call her that, why I’ve always called her that. Sofia has hated the nickname from the second I came up with it, and the scowl on her face has always been a great reason for me to keep on calling her “Icicle”.
“Whatever, Nix.” Sofia grabs the glass Miles pushed away from me two minutes ago and takes a sip. “What kind of girly drink is this?”
If I had to guess, about everyone at this table is currently looking at Sofia with more than three question marks above their heads. I know for sure I didn’t order some “girly drink”, whatever that may be. “It’s Vodka Cran.”
Sofia shakes her head. “It’s Cranberry, that’s what it is. Maybe one percent vodka, or half a percent.”
“Yeah? How are you the alcohol expert here?” Grey asks, offering Sofia a smug smile. That’s so not like Grey. Grey is quiet and sweet. He’s not challenging or smug. Guess alcohol doesn’t do him any good.
“I haven’t introduced myself properly yet,” Sofia says then turns to look at Grey. She holds out her hand, waiting for him to take it. “I’m Sofia. I spent my entire teenage years in Germany. Our legal drinking age is eighteen. Beer and wine, however, that’s legal at the age of sixteen. But if you live in a small town or even better, a village, chances are, you start drinking at the age of twelve.”
Grey shakes her hand, bobbing his head with a down-ward smile like he’s impressed.
“Germany?” Miles blurts out like he wasn’t expecting that at all. “You don’t even have an accent.”
“That’s because I was born here. My parents are both from New York City, though I lived right here until I was seven years old. That’s where I know this dwarf here from.” She points her finger at me, then instantly gets up. “Let me show you what real drinks are.”
“If you down this, I’ll pay for all of your drinks,” I say, pushing the Prairie Fire toward Sofia.
My head is spinning from all the shit I’ve downed thanks to Sofia. There is no way in hell that I would ever drink a shot made of vodka, whiskey, and tabasco, and let’s not forget the pepper taste. Nope. Not going to happen.
What started off as a bet who dares to drink the weirdest shot mixtures is now a wish to die. Clearly. And I do not have one of those. However, I will if I have to drink that thing.
And besides, Sofia doesn’t know I am paying for all the drinks tonight. For hers especially since she’s not twenty-one yet. Without me, she wouldn’t even get a single drink here, apart from non-alcoholic ones.
“Seriously? Aaron, that’s like a hundred dollars.”
I shrug. “For someone that can’t afford—”
Her hand collides with my arm as she slaps me. “Remind me of it again and I will do worse to you than just slap you.”
Smirking, I ask, “For instance?”
“I’ll inject e-liquid into your bloodstream, and you best hope you’ll make it out alive.”
“I have to say, Icicle, if that’s your way of trying to flirt with me, it’s not going to work. Threatening to poison me, that’s not really a great move. What happened to asking for a kiss first?”
I lay my hand on her thigh, feeling her tense at my touch. Her breath comes out a little more ragged, uncontrolled.
So I do have some kind of effect on her after all.
“Let me put arsenic trioxide on my lips first, maybe then you’ll get one.” That sounds like a challenge to me.
“Is that the sugar look-alike?” She nods. “Too obvious, Icicle. Try something without color. And perhaps anything that wouldn’t kill you in the process. Unless of course you plan on dying with me, in that case you’re good to use arsenic trioxide.”
Sofia swats my hand away from her thigh, grabs the shot glass and downs the contents in the blink of an eyes. Her face doesn’t even twitch at the explosion that must be happening inside of her.
