Lorien Legacies High School

by Anonymous-read

Exactly what it sounds like. My take on what the Lorien Legacies characters would be like if they were regular humans going through high school. Disclaimer: I don't own Lorien Legacies

23. Chapter 23

Hey guys!

You already know where I'm going with this AN so I'm not going to waste any time...

SORRY!

I feel really bad, I've been gone for four months and I really don't have a great excuse aside from school and a major creativity block. But I really am sorry if it helps. Believe it or not, I do try my hardest to get these chapters up in a timely fashion (which never happens, as you all know from my apaologies every single chapter). I found writing this chapter particularly hard for some reason, and I don't know why. I usually do the bulk of my writing over multiple different times when I feel creative and that didn't seem like it happened at all for me over the past months, and I really hate putting stuff on here that I feel is not good work, so that's why it takes me so long. You all left wonderful, understanding reviews though and I love seeing them, they make me extremely happy!

Reviews:

loricnumbersix6- Hey, glad you like the Jix. I'm always worried when I write something out of Maren's comfort zone that it's too unbelievable, but I'm happy it works! Totally agree with you about having some drama input in here... not going to pinpoint what it is but something will be happening soon to spice things up. Thanks for the review!

navrina78- So happy the fluff chapter was well received. I get a little nervous whenever I write the romantic scenes, about it seeming too forced or out of place, but your review definitely made me feel better about it :) thanks for the support!

Helix- Totally agree, why do homework when you can read? So happy you're enjoying the story, I hope you keep enjoying it :) (P.S. I hope you got all your homework done! And I always encourage school over reading but I choose reading every time too so we're in the same boat :) )

YasiYasi- Wow, that's a long test, must have been hard! Hope you get a good mark and you get into the school you want, and I'm glad the story made your day a little less stressful :) thanks for reviewing!

Booklover123- Hey, thanks for the review :) I'm glad you like Stanley and Riley (Ranley?), I really like them too although I do get worried sometimes that I might focus on them too much and not enough on the other couples. I'm happy it's well received, and thanks for the support!

Guest (Nov 8th)- Hi, thanks for the lovely review! I'm not exactly sure how many chapters left in this. Possibly about... 20? I don't know yet, that's just an estimate. After this story is done I have a couple other ideas but I'd probably just do a one-shot series around all their adult lives, not sure yet. Anyway, it's just an idea, I probably shouldn't be thinking that far into the future yet since I can't even seem to get the current chapters up lol. Thanks!

Guest (Nov 9th)- Awe Thanks! Love you too and I'm happy you're enjoying the story :)

J- First of all, I love long reviews, thank you so much! I also really like that you put everything in list form to make it easy for me to answer, so here we go: 1. Wow thank you so much :) Glad you're enjoying the story and there will be some conflict in the future, even though it's great you're still enjoying it without any! (By the way, you're right, I am a girl. I do relate more to the female POV and tend to write in it more, although I'm trying to work on that so fingers crossed). 2. It's good to hear that Riley is a relatable character, I'm always a little worried that people may not be interested since she's an OC so that's good to hear :) I personally don't relate very much to her (I have a profanity issue too, but I never had a rebellious phase), but I really do like writing her, wether it's her point of view or just from the viewpoint of the other characters. 3. I had to laugh when I read the part in your review about Riley's height, because it makes complete sense and I have been regretting choosing that height for her for a while. The thing is, to make the stuff in this story as real as possible, I try to base many parts of it off personal experience (not that I have the same life as any of these characters at all other than the fact I'm in school). I'm actually pretty tall, and weirdly, most of my friends growing up have been around the same height as me, so something like 5'6 is considered a tad short in my world. I wrote that a long time ago though, and I hope that I'm getting better at broadening my perspectives when it comes to things like that. Thank you for mentioning that, I actually addressed it in this chapter before I even saw your review because it's been on my mind for a while :) 4. Thanks! Writing from the male POV is sometimes a bit challenging because I have a girls mind so even though I try to imagine, I don't know how guys think. Glad to know it's good, thank you! 5. Thanks for understanding school stress, means a lot that people get it and know that I'm not deliberately making y'all wait, because I really hate making you guys wait, trust me! Whew, that was a long response (hope you don't mind), thank you so much for the review and please keep coming with the advice and comments :)

Alright, thank you so much to everyone else that read and/or reviewed, including the guests and everyone mentioned up there (I think I got everyone). This chapter is pretty long, and I've been looking at it and rereading the same parts and revising and editing and everything else you can think of for what feels like a year. Alas, it is done (I'm still not completely happy but it's 1:00 in the morning and it's done). By the way, this is the second longest chapter. Over 20'000 words so... I hope you have some time on your hands...

Thanks again for being so patient with me, and I hope you enjoy :)

---

Maren

Today is our last day here. Before the trip, I would have never thought I'd want to stay in a freezing cold place with noisy roommates for longer than I possibly needed to. I honestly never thought I'd last a weekend. But today, on a Sunday, and on our last day here, I'm suddenly disappointed to see it all go so fast. This whole thing has kind of changed my mind about my whole 'meeting new people is a waste of time' concept in life, and I've actually gotten pretty good at snowboarding.

Well, I was starting to get good, and I might have gotten close today if a sudden accident didn't just cause my progress to go backwards, like, tenfold. It wasn't my accident, it was someone else's accident. A boy, more specifically. He looked like a preteen and his '360 degree turn gone wrong' incident that ended with my knee jacked up might have been an attempt at impressing his friend group.

I wish he was off with his friends now, but he's in front of me as I sit in the snow, spewing off an awkward apology as I try to ignore the pain of his snowboard hitting my knee.

"I'm so sorry!"

I hit the sleeve of my jacket to wipe the snow off it, hoping that distracting myself will keep my face glare-free for the time being. I'm not big on apologies because it means comforting people for something they did wrong when the person who the wrong was done to should be the one in need of comfort. Not that I want comfort or anything because that's just... ew. But I really wouldn't mind him leaving so I wouldn't feel the need to console him.

"It's fine." I don't look up at him, pushing at the snow to test the strength in my leg. A sharp pain rips through the throbbing and I clench my teeth to keep my face from showing anything.

"Are you sure? Because I hit you pretty hard and I really didn't mean to."

I breath out through my teeth, patience wearing thin with this kid. "I know, and it's fine."

"Okay..." He stays silent for another moment, squashing my hope that the statement would be the end of this interaction. I finally look up at him, the guilty look on his face only irritating me more. "But I am really sorry, I really didn't mean to-"

"And it's really fine, Okay? Just really stop apologizing because it's really making me want to-"

"Okay! Thanks so much but I can take it from here!"

Riley interrupts my threat, coming from behind me just in time to save this kid's feelings, which are probably pretty fragile considering the amount of consoling he required. She pulls down the fabric over her mouth to smile brightly at him, shooting him an encouraging thumbs-up. He finally decides to leave me alone, quickly making his way back to the group of friends he was obviously trying to impress. It might of worked if I didn't happen to be in the way.

I glower in the direction he went but Riley gets in front of me and blocks my view with what I would imagine to be a warning look if she didn't have goggles on. I return it with my glare and she sighs, giving up. "Jeez, I leave you alone for one minute and you're already threatening children."

"It's not my fault, he wouldn't leave." I defend.

"That's generally what happens when people want to see if you're okay."

"Well, it's stupid."

Riley shakes her head in amusement before holding out her hands for me to take. She hasn't taken her snowboard off but somehow she's able to balance well enough to start to pull me up. I can't go the whole way up though, because my knee splits into pain again at the pressure and I can't stop a wince. Riley lets go of my hands in shock and I fall back back down in the snow, the jarring movement making the stabbing pain worse for a second, and the throbbing worse after that settles.

"Jesus, R." I complain.

"Oh God, sorry!" I roll my eyes at the rerun from just a minute ago, watching as she drops to her knees in front of me. "Sorry, but I just didn't expect it to hurt because you never get hurt, so-"

"Riley."

"Right, yeah." She pulls up her goggles, revealing her unsure expression. "I wish Marina could come up, she'd be better at this."

I roll my eyes at her dramatics and decide to take my goggles off too, feeling a little less suffocated. I look farther down the hill, where I notice a small cluster of people I can pick out as the rest of our friends. They must have stopped after noticing we did. "Calm down, it's not even bad."

"Maren, If you can't get up, it's bad."

"I could have gotten up if someone never dropped me."

"Because you're hurt." I huff at the reminder and internally cringe at my mistake. Riley just looks at me seriously. "Stop being tough for a second and just tell me how bad it is."

After a short debate in my head, I decide there's two reasons I tell her. One is because is unsettling to see her worried to the point of actually putting on a serious face. And two, because my leg is actually hurting pretty bad.

"Well, when the guy tried to jump out of the ditch, he landed right here-" I touch the side of my leg carefully. "And I think it bent weird." I finish, not exactly knowing what happened for sure.

"How much pressure can you put on it?" Riley asks.

"Enough to get down the hill." I reply immediately. The last thing I need is to be helped down the whole time when I'm perfectly capable of getting down myself.

Riley puts her gloved hands on the bottom of my snowboard, seemingly ignoring my comment. "Push this as hard as you can, with only the left leg." She instructs. Usually I'd be able to push her hand easily, but even just applying a little pressure causes a hard shot of pain. I keep my facial expressions under control this time, but can't stop a hiss when I push a little harder. Riley arches an eyebrow at me disbelievingly. "That's it? Really?"

"Well if I knew you'd be this judgmental I wouldn't have tried at all."

"Sorry." she chuckles. After a pause, she continues. "But you probably shouldn't go down the hill like that."

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" I question. "It's not even that bad and I'm not going to make a big scene over a minor thing."

She sighs. "Maybe you should, it doesn't seem good-oh, that rhymed!" She snorts but when she sees me roll my eyes she puts on a serious face again. "Sorry, anyway..."

As she keeps trying to persuade me, I see somebody stray from our friend group behind her. The skis he left behind and blue jacket tells me it's John starting to make his way up the hill. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that he doesn't need to know the extent of this thing. He'll probably make just as big a deal of it as Marina.

"No." I cut off whatever Riley was saying. "I'm getting up. Now."

"Maren-"

"No, come on, help me up. I just have to walk it off." She gives me a weird look and I roll my eyes. "Or snowboard it off, you know what I mean."

She lets out a soft sigh, seeming to debate it but probably aware that I won't be swayed. Finally she stands and holds out her hands again, which is fortunate because I think John was actually starting to pick up his pace.

She helps me up and doesn't stop pulling when I wince this time, and I give her a nod of thanks. I'm honestly glad Marina isn't here because she wouldn't be so easily persuaded.

"Just to be clear, I am against this." Riley says. "And I really think that you should go inside at the bottom and rest it. I can make up an excuse if you want but you shouldn't stay up here with it like that." I nod and she still looks conflicted but she puts down her goggles. "If I were you I'd ride with the right foot first."

She motions for me to go on and I try to smoothly start off, knowing she's watching every move I make much closer than before. Even with the good leg in front, it's still a hell of a lot harder to go down the hill while trying not to put pressure on the back one. I'm willing to bet I look as awkward as I think I do, but everyone who was waiting me goes on anyway when I wave. Well, one person stays behind, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out who it is.

"Are you okay?" John asks as I come near him, apparently deeming Marina capable of skiing without constant supervision for a minute.

"Fine." I reply shortly. I really don't want to stop because that means a lot of pressure on my leg, so I coast on by him with a gesture to come on. He already has his skis back on, probably reattaching them when he saw me getting up, so he quickly catches up.

"You sure?"

"John." I warn.

"Alright, fine." I puts his hands up, his ski poles making the gesture look funny but I don't comment on it. "Just... take it easy. Okay?"

And just with that comment he goes on ahead of me, closer to Marina who is looking pretty confident on her own anyway. I'm Glad he doesn't actually know what happened though, because he would surely be asking a lot more questions if he did.

After a bit we come to a stop a little further down the hill. Predictably, I get lots of questions from Marina about the incident that I give very curt responses to. I don't ask her to, but she tells me she'll go into the lodge with me when we get down. Although she complains about her muscles aching, I know she's going inside almost entirely because of me, and it makes me feel bad until I realize there's nothing I can do change her mind. She's just that type of person.

"Trust me, I'm sore in muscles I didn't even know I had." She insists to try and convince me that her motives to go in the lodge have nothing to do with my injury. "Plus, if Stanley is dragging us all to that party tonight, I'll need all the energy I can get."

"That's what alcohol is for."

It almost startles me to hear Stanley's voice. I didn't even know he was listening, let alone absorbing enough to actually comment something that makes a relative amount of sense. But like everything he says, some of the logic is still lost. It must be a gift.

"And if we were of drinking age, that advice would be helpful." John points out.

Stanley lets out a low chuckle. "Someone didn't see the beer already conveniently back at the room."

"And how are you planning to get that in?" John presses. This seems to momentarily stump Stanley. He stares at his feet for a second, deep in though. Then he nods slowly to himself.

"I'll get it in." He says quietly.

"Well I'm glad that's cleared up." Joseph joins in, clasping his hands together like we've done something productive. "We should probably get going though, you know, before someone hears us talking about beer smuggling."

"Maybe don't use the words 'beer' and 'smuggling', smart-ass." Stanley shakes his head and then nods way too casually as a greeting to a skier as they pass by.

John clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, we should just go."

. . .

"Do you have to look so depressed?"

Riley emerges from the hall, arching an eyebrow at my empty stare at the ceiling as I lie on the couch. There are a couple reasons for my attitude. One of them being that I'm completely bored after sitting in the lodge with Marina for two hours and coming back to the room and doing the same thing. And the second reason being that Marina has gotten me to prop my leg up in this ridiculous position ever since we've been back and John has been coming in every fifteen minutes to ask if I need more ice. I really have no choice but to frown.

"Pretty much, yeah." I let my head flop to the side to look at her as she heads to the kitchen with a bath towel wrapped around her body.

She hasn't been in the shower yet judging by her dry hair. I regard her strange appearance with little to no surprise. She's not a modest person, although I do admit to a little bit of wonder about how she can walk around so unconcerned like that when there are three young men just a floor above that can come down at any moment. But then I remember that I once saw her greet her sisters boyfriend casually in a bra and track pants, and I start to think that she really might need a lesson on other people's comfort levels.

I furrow my eyebrows when she starts opening cupboards with the same intensity Joseph had just last night. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for food." She huffs as she stands on her toes to get to one of the higher cupboards.

"Aren't you getting in the shower? Like, now?"

"Mar is still in the bathroom. Seriously, I've been waiting for forty minutes, I'm hungry!" She lowers her voice and looks over her shoulder with a grimace. "Plus, I think she's doing her makeup and I've learned my lesson about interrupting her mascara ritual."

At that I actually almost laugh, remembering Riley dodging several makeup components after accidentally nudging Marina's arm during the ordeal. "Okay, I see your point." I admit. She nods solemnly and goes back to her search. "By the way Joseph basically tore those cupboards apart last night, and was very insistent that the only thing he found was utensils and mugs."

Riley snorts. "Maybe he never looked hard enough."

"Maybe you need to accept that we're going out for supper soon. I'm sure you're not going to starve to death in an hour."

"Yeah, but I'll whine about it so..." She stretches for a higher cupboard but can't seem to quite reach it. I hear footsteps coming down the steps while she resorts to getting a chair from the kitchen table.

"Don't fall." I warn.

"Maren, I've got this." She replies way too confidently.

I just nod but watch her anyway even though I won't be able to do anything of use if she does happen to take a tumble. She stands up on the chair and makes a sound of satisfaction as she easily opens the cupboard.

I watch Stanley emerge from the hall, the characteristic cocky smirk on his face when he sees me on the couch. He opens his mouth to spew his usual, 'Hello Ladies' routine, until the precarious situation to his left catches his eye. He looks into the kitchen and literally stumbles to a stop at the entrance of the hallway. At first I think he's concerned, but then I notice his eyes widening and his mouth drift open the slightest amount as he looks in Riley's direction. His throat bobs as he swallows, and I finally get it.

I actually snort because, seriously? I know she's pretty and in shape and whatever, but a towel is definitely not the most revealing thing she could be wearing. Maybe her hair being down might've startled him too. Whatever it is, he's paying way too much attention.

Riley looks over her shoulder at my noise and spots Stanley, who audibly clears his throat. She just grins, hilariously oblivious. "Oh, hey Stanley." She turns back to her search.

I watch with a growing smile as Stanley seems to struggle for a response for a second. "Pierce." He finally greets. "Nice outfit."

Riley laughs. When she turns around again he has his smirk on again, apparently recovered, or at least doing a good job of acting like it. "Straight from Vogue." She replies. I bite back bark of laughter when she winks at him before turning back to the open cupboard, and his smirk lessens. Okay, maybe she's not completely oblivious.

There's a click as the bathroom door opens, Stanley spinning to investigate just for a distraction. "Was that Marina going out of the bathroom?" Riley asks.

"Yeah, uh huh." Stanley replies quickly.

"Ugh, finally." She closes the cupboard door and hops down from the chair. "Oh, put that chair back will you? Thanks." She pats him on the shoulder as she casually breezes past, leaving him looking after her.

She closes the bathroom door, Stanley only tuning back into the world after she disappears. He notices me and gives me a curt nod. I don't even bother hiding my grin. This is, hands down, the most entertained I've been this entire trip.

"You okay there, Stanley?" I ask innocently.

His eyes dart to mine and he gives me an incredulous expression with a laugh that's a little too stiff. "Always, Sweetheart." He seems to remember the chair and moves to pick it up.

"Alright. You just look a little red. Are you too warm or something?"

"I'm fine." He replies, grunting as he lifts the chair and avoiding my eyes as he brings it to its place at the table.

I just hum agreeably as he places the chair down, taking a bit too much time to make sure it's perfectly positioned before moving away. There's a silence for a moment. Finally, I speak up. "Can I ask a question?"

He looks at me defiantly. "Fire away."

"Great." I roll over so I can face him completely, lodging my chin on a fist. "So, are you the reason they banned spaghetti straps at school? Like, does a set of shoulders just do it for you?"

He doesn't say a word, just takes his hands off the chair, spins on his heel, and stalks out of the room. I think it's the first time I've genuinely laughed today.

. . .

"Now, this is a party."

Stanley nods approvingly and looks around as he places a red beer cooler on the floor next to the table we've chosen. Thanks to his absolutely stellar beer smuggling skills (which just involved managing to carry a very large cooler into the upper level of the lodge unnoticed), he managed to get eighteen bottles of beer into the event. I'm actually a little concerned about how fast the lodge's bar will go into debt if it's this easy for people to get booze in. Stanley says he'll go back to the room to get more if we need it, but I hope we won't. He's bad enough sober.

"Literally every single one of your parties are better than this." John says, cringing as a girl doing karaoke onstage tries to hit a high note.

Stanley grins and pats his back. "I know, dude. But you gotta take what you can get."

John just shakes his head and everyone pulls out a chair. John sits down too but as soon as he sees me pulling out a chair he stands again. "Here, let me get that." Before I can even protest, he's behind me, positioning the chair so I can sit down easy. I decide it's just easier at this point not to protest so I sit down, muttering a quick thanks.

Stanley leans down and starts dishing out drinks, not even asking who wants one. Riley slides hers back over the table as soon as she gets it and Stanley slides it to her again. When she gives him a look, he just winks and says, "I'll leave it there in case you want it later" Riley doesn't protest but she doesn't open it when the bottle opener is passed around. I'd suspect even if she thought she'd want it later she would have given it back to him so he could put it back in the cooler, because who wants to drink warm beer?

"So..." Joseph says after a beat of silence. "What do we do here exactly?" He looks to Stanley for an answer, automatically deeming him an expert on anything to do with drinking and stupidity.

"You've all been to a party before." Stanley says. I'm thankful the music isn't too loud that we can't hear each other talking, like it was at the one and only other party I've went to. "We drink, dance..." he points his beer to the stage, where the woman who was singing before is passing the mic to another girl, waving her hands and getting a surprising amount of applause. "After enough drinks, we can sing."

John chuckles. "Yeah, a lot of drinks." I can't help but agree. I can't see how anyone in there right mind would want to go up in front of a bunch of strangers to belt out a song (probably terribly).

"Who says we need to be drunk?" Joseph grins and I suddenly know that he's exactly the type of person that would do that without shame. "Come on, who's up for it?" He points to Marina first, who politely declines.

"Not drunk enough." John says.

Stanley nods. "Ditto."

Joseph looks hopefully at Riley, who shakes her head. "I don't sing."

He looks at me next, but quickly gives up without me even having to say anything. "Nobody? I was going to break out 'Islands in the stream' and everything!" He throws his hands up in disgust.

"Well, I'm hungry." Riley says standing up. "So I'm just gonna go downstairs and get a bit of everything. Does anyone want to help?" She asks hopefully. Marina and I share a look, both of us thinking about a certain ex-boyfriend that works at the cafeteria.

"Me and Joseph can go down." Marina says, standing up and gesturing for Joseph to do the same. He gets up quickly and just smiles, not offended at all that he was elected without his permission. Riley looks confused but sits down again anyway, watching them leave with narrowed eyes.

"So, Ladies..." Stanley leans forward on the table, continuing a random conversation before she can get too suspicious. "Who wants the honour of having the first dance with yours truly?"

I just raise an eyebrow, not feeling like I need to voice an answer since it's clear anyway. Riley chuckles. "What if John wants to dance?" She challenges.

Stanley looks John over, who stares blankly back. "He's not pretty enough." He concludes, looking back at Riley while John shrugs, not offended. "You however..." He smirks, confidently standing up and holding out a hand.

"Well, I guess I'm sold." Riley takes his hand with a grin and he pulls her to the open space between the tables, where a few couples are already swaying back and forth to a girl's not-too-good rendition of an Ed Sheran song. They get way closer than John and I did, looking at each other and making smiling conversation. I silently wonder if it should be that easy, the dancing and being with someone. Is it terrible how hard it seems to be for me?

"Is there something going on with them?" John asks, looking out too, and I silently wonder if he was thinking the same thing as me. He's sitting next to me at the circular table, and Marina has thankfully allowed me to keep my leg on the ground instead of propping it up so we can sit side by side.

"Apparently not." I reply.

"Apparently?" John questions.

"Yeah." I reply slowly, starting to get my own suspicions as I look at how comfortable they seem.

"Okay." John chuckles. He doesn't even question the vague response, used to not putting up a fight for information he knows he won't get. "How's your leg?" He asks. "And be honest." He adds after I open my mouth to speak.

I give him a stern look. "It's fine."

"Of course it is." He teases. I roll my eyes. "Do you know who did it?" He looks around as though he'll actually find the guy.

"He was like, twelve, I don't think he's here." I reply. Although I do take a glance around us too, because damn, nobody cared that we brought a massive cooler in here, a child could probably slip by just as easy if there's even an age limit. I have a feeling these things aren't run with too many precautions.

"Oh okay. I just wanted to see if he looked stupid." He explains. I nod understandingly.

"Well you'll be happy to know that he did look very stupid. His hair looked like Justin Bieber's from 2010."

"Hey." He looks at me seriously, eyes stern. "Don't dis the flip, alright? I had my hair like that in grade seven." He states with a surprising lack of shame considering what he's admitting to. I try to picture him with the hairstyle, but I can't seem to do it, which is probably for the better.

"And now I know why we weren't friends in grade seven." I say, taking a sip from my beer while he puts an effort into looking mightily offended.

"First of all," he starts sternly, pointing a finger at me, "that was hurtful."

"Oh yeah?"

"Second of all," He cuts me off before I can finish what he knows is not a sympathetic response. "How do you know there's not a reason I didn't want to be friends with you in grade seven?" He asks, raising his eyebrows smugly.

"There probably is a reason, and it's probably because you couldn't see me through your hair." I reply, copying his raised eyebrows.

"It wasn't even that long. You're ridiculous." He shakes his head, apparently miffed. "And, for your information, I only had it for like a month."

"Aw, did Stanley make fun of you for it?"

He pauses, eyes darting to mine before looking away just as quickly. Then he slowly crosses his arms. "Maybe." He admits, not that I actually needed the answer at this point anyway. His reaction made it pretty clear.

"I'll have to thank Stanley for that later then."

He gasps. "You? Thank Stanley for something? What is the world coming to?"

I shrug nonchalantly. "I feel like it's a good enough reason."

John wrinkles his nose at me and I don't even try to stop a smile. It's small but he sees it, grinning in response and leaning back a little in his chair, like he's just given into relaxing. "So, is this your first time out here?" He asks, steering to topic of conversation into something that I'll have trouble teasing him about.

"Yeah." I say. I debate saying anything else for a minute, because when I tell people I haven't been anywhere they always give me a sad look that I hate. But John hasn't done that yet. "This is actually the farthest I've ever been from the city, so..." I shrug.

"Oh, cheers then." He holds up his beer and I smile before clinking mine against it and taking a sip after. "If you ever get a chance to go somewhere-" he suddenly stops and points a finger at me, looking serious, "and actually hear me out, okay?" Only when I make a show of nodding my agreement does he continue. "If you ever get the chance to go somewhere, I know it's cliche, but... Disney Land." He nods firmly and taps the table, watching my reaction.

I raise an eyebrow, trying not to laugh because I said I would hear him out. Clearing my throat, I try to be serious. "Disney Land, huh?"

"Yup." He affirms. I press my lips together and look at the table, slowly nodding. He catches the look and groans. "Oh, don't laugh."

"I'm not." I reply, but even as the words come out a chuckle is there with them. John rolls his eyes, looking defeated. "Okay, okay. I actually have a serious question." Immediately he seems doubtful, but gestures for me to go on as I try to put on the most solemn expression I can. "Is Disney Land really the happiest place on Earth?"

Even though the question is a little teasing, he goes along with it, letting out a low hum of thought. "Well, it's happier than any other happy place I've been to." He confirms.

I nod in thoughtful agreement, "Right."

"I mean, obviously it's happiness level is still too high to be measured."

"Of course."

"But some people have said, that it may even be happier than a TGI Fridays on Friday."

"Wow." I let out a laugh through my words and he raises his eyebrows at me at though chiding me for laughing at it.

"It's true." He insists with so much seriousness it might actually be mistaken for the truth until he smiles a little, obviously trying to keep it toned down. "Honestly though, Disney is super crowded and hot but... there's something about it you know?" Shrugging, he looks to me for agreement.

I raise an eyebrow. "Something magical?"

He rolls his eyes. "Shut up."

Even though I know he's not serious, I don't say anything else on the topic anyway, thinking I might start to run out of jokes to make about it soon. "So, have you gone anywhere else? I think I'd like to hear some more options." I say.

"Yeah, a few places." He replies, tilting his head slightly in thought. "Quebec, British Columbia, Mexico I think, Hawaii and..." Seemingly stuck, he shakes his head after moment, "There's somewhere else but I can't remember. None of them are better than Disney Land though."

"I bet." I agree sarcastically. He chuckles and sips his beer. "So you do a lot of traveling?" I suddenly begin to think that I sound like I'm just trying to avoid an awkward silence with all the questions. I'm not really. While I do like to hear his answers, I'm also trying to even up how much information we have about each other, because he knows way more about me than I do about him, and I'm not even an interesting person.

"I did when I was younger." He says. "Did the family vacation thing. It was nice."

"You don't do it anymore?"

Glancing at me, he reaches a hand up to scratch the back of his neck and I realize I haven't seen the nervous habit in a while. Nervousness starts to creep into me too as I start to see that this might be getting into sensitive territory. I really didn't mean to bring it there, although I'm not going to back out now and make him feel like he can't tell me. Admittedly, empathy is far from my strong suit, but I've had enough experience to know what not to do.

"No. Not really after my Mom..." he makes a hand gesture that doesn't have much to do with anything. "You know." There's a few things that could be implied with a sentence like that, and even though I really don't know what happened, I get a feeling exactly which one is correct.

"That sucks." Not my best start. He chuckles and I shake my head, trying again. "I'm sorry."

I never used to get why people say sorry when other people die. It's kind of stupid because nobody should apologize for something that has nothing to do with them, and especially over something that couldn't be helped. But after a few funerals, you start to understand it's because there's nothing else to say.

"Thanks." John smiles tightly, just as aware as I am that the conversation took a dramatic turn. An uncomfortable feeling settles inside me suddenly, not because of his admission but because of my inability to say anything remotely comforting about it. The uncomfortable feeling, I realize, is guilt.

Realizing I have to say something, I wrack my mind for any combination of words that would help in in any way, and not make me sound like I'm devoid of emotion. But I know I'd just screw it up if I tried to say anything on behalf of the news he just told me. So instead, I opt for a different topic that might make him feel better. I tap the bottle in my hand, look to the floor, and try to gather any remaining pride I have left. Eventually, I just blurt it out.

"So, uh, thanks. By the way." John looks at me in confusion and you would think I would rush to explain myself, but I really don't know where I'm going with this, so I take my time. "When, you know-" I gesture down to my leg vaguely, "This happened, you were, uh-" I clear my throat, struggling a concerning amount with this 'showing gratitude' thing. "You didn't- you uh-"

"Maren." John interrupts, and thank god for that because I had no idea how to finish it. I finally look at him and he furrows his eyebrows. "Are you trying to say thank you?"

I sigh. It was a stupid idea from the start, and I knew full well that I wouldn't be able to get it out. Yes, I am actually grateful for his help, but I wasn't planning on telling him that. I usually wouldn't make a fool of myself on purpose (that's more Riley's thing), but I felt like I needed to make up for the topic I brought the conversation to. And, maybe it was at my expense, but maybe I meant it to be.

"Something like that." I finally mutter.

He grins, and I'm really glad he never turned out to need any type of great comfort from me, because I'm pretty sure I don't have the capability. "You're so weird." He chuckles.

"You have a dog named after a football player." I defend.

His eyebrows furrow, apparently taken aback by my counter. "A lot of people do that."

"Nobody does that." I say flatly. John opens his mouth and I can almost hear his arguments before he even says anything. "Fine, maybe last names." I correct. He can't seem to counter me with anything else so he just sips his beer as I continue. "But nobody actually names a dog the full name of- actually," Holding up a finger as I interrupt myself, I raise my eyebrows at John, who even laughs at his own lack of defence, "Who even gives a dog a full name? Like, you actually went and put a last name on your dog, and it's not even your own last name!" I point at him. "You do not get the right to call me weird. Ever."

I sigh as I finish and John is still laughing. I raise an eyebrow at him and he stops for a moment before looking at me a cracking up again. "Are you done?" He finally chuckles.

I shrug, lifting my bottle to take a sip. "Unless you have something you'd like to add."

"We got him from a shelter."

Pausing with the bottle to my lips, I look at him in the corner of my eye to see if he's lying. He's grinning, and he has that amused smug look on his face that tells me he's very much telling the truth.

I swallow my beer and take the bottle down, setting it on the table. "Did you actually?" I sigh.

"Yeah, we decided not to change his name since he was used to it." He states matter-of-factory, but obviously very amused about my reaction.

I click my tongue, mulling over what to say. Eventually I sigh again. "Well now I feel bad." I shake my head, but chuckle anyway, which I suspect doesn't make my words any more believable.

"I thought you had a heart of stone." John feigns confusion and I nod thoughtfully.

"Yeah, there is that. Guess I forgot."

"Brain of stone too then?"

My eyebrows shoot up, not in anger, but in surprised amusement at the jab. He misinterprets the look and puts his hands up in defence, scrunching his shoulders and squeezing his eyes shut, which is completely ridiculous.

"Seriously?" I can't help a laugh, shaking my head at him. "When have I ever hit you?"

"Well, once at Stan's house-"

"When have I ever hit you on purpose?" I interrupt.

He shrugs cheerfully, finally putting his blockade down once he's deemed me in a good enough mood not to cause harm. "I don't know. I guess you're just scary."

I look at him flatly. "Yes. I'm terrifying." He laughs and I roll my eyes, pushing myself from the seat with a little difficulty, but I try to make it look at smooth as I can.

"Where are you going?" John asks. I'm glad he didn't ask if I needed help, because he might actually need to be scared then.

"Washroom." I reply, walking around the back of his chair and hating myself for the limp, which I can tell is painfully obvious. Looking over my shoulder, I call back, "Maybe I'll frighten some children on the way there. You know. Because I'm so scary."

"You know, on second thought, I think the limp kind of makes up for it." He tilts his head as though studying the way I walk. Smiling tightly before turning and continuing on my limping journey, I shoot him the middle finger over my shoulder.

I hear him laugh behind me, and he probably knows I'm grinning too. I'm fine with it.

Marina

By the time Joseph and I get back up the stairs with armfuls of food (pizza, hamburgers, fries, and wings), John is left at the table alone, everyone else's beers left unattended in their places. Joseph tuts quietly next to me.

"So, we leave for two seconds and everyone ditches us. Rude." He mutters, striking an offended expression.

I chuckle and roll my eyes, not bothering to remind him that we were actually gone for closer to 20 minutes. The line was long, and I wished I had let Riley go down instead, especially when I saw Trey was nowhere to be seen.

John seems content to sit at the table alone, taking a sip of his beer and frowning right after, holding it up to examine the now empty bottle before putting it down after making his conclusion. When he sees us coming he quickly jumps up, crossing the crowded room to help us.

"Where did everyone go?" I ask as he reaches out to take the plates.

He lifts his eyes to the ceiling in thought. "Well, Stan and Riley were dancing for a while but I think they're at the bar now..." he trails off as he gets distracted with trying to balance a plate of fries. When he sees Joseph's confused look, he clarifies. "To get Riley a Pepsi." He adds. He holds a hand out to me and I place the bowl of wings I was carrying in his hand.

"And where'd Maren go?"

"Oh, you know-" he shrugs ahead of us, "out on the dance floor."

The shock on Joseph's face is clear. "What?" He can't stop a surprised chuckle, swerving around a stranger who's a little too engrossed in a conversation to notice us.

John looks over his shoulder with a small smirk at his reaction. "I'm kidding, she went to the bathroom."

Joseph rolls his eyes, apparently disappointed. I didn't expect it anyway. She can't be near drunk enough yet to even consider dancing at this point. Plus, she'll probably use her leg as an excuse to deny anyone a dance anyway.

John leads us back to the table, where we all set down our plates just as Stanley emerges from the crowd, and points at the food with a huge grin.

"Aw Yeah..." he rubs his hands together, looking way too pleased over the arrival of the plates.

"Weren't you supposed to be with Riley?" John asks, putting a paper plate in each spot around the table.

"Yeah, but the line was really long, and I saw you guys come back so... you know. Priorities and shit." He shrugs and then suddenly smirks at something over my shoulder. I turn to see Maren coming back to the table with an obvious limp. She sits down heavily in her chair when she arrives. "Should we get you some crutches, Sweetheart?" Stanley teases.

"Should we get you some brain cells?" Her counter is almost a second thought as she becomes more focused on looking over the contents of the table. Stanley just grins like he knew the retort was coming but still believed it was worth it anyway.

After Joseph makes a dramatic announcement about the importance of paper plates as he passes them around, everyone sits down and starts grabbing stuff, Stanley being the most enthusiastic. I decide to just wait until everyone else gets their food to get mine. Since I'm not so focused on competing for my meal, I turn to watch the latest karaoke performance onstage. I look on in disbelief as a middle aged man completely crushes a Taylor Swift song. I tilt my head to the side as he dances around the stage like he's having the time of his life and I start to think that anyone going after him is going to have a tough time getting the crowd as excited as he's is.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Riley approaching through the crowd on the dance floor. Or rather, I see Riley nearly pushing people out of the way as she rushes back to the table, turning around every couple seconds to spew apologies.

My attention is drawn from her because of the collective groan I hear from the guys. I turn back to the stage to find Taylor Swift guy in the middle of a well-practiced split and cringe at it myself. Is it healthy for a man's body to bend that way?

Riley's chair moves in my peripheral and look in time to see her drop into it with so much force it moves an inch to the right.

"Guess who I just ran into?" The statement is halfway between an exclamation and a question, but considering how wide her eyes are, I'm willing to bet it's more of the former. Next to her, Maren continues eating, not convinced the revelation is going to yield as much shock as she's letting on. "Actually never mind, you'll never guess, I'll just tell you." She leans in, and just to humour her, I raise my eyebrows in question. I'm not actually concerned though considering it's common for her to comically overreact over small things. She lowers her voice. "I ran into Trey."

To the right of her, Maren literally chokes.

I feel my face go slack with shock asRiley looks over at Maren in alarm but I clear my throat, furrowing my eyebrows. After all the work we put in to keeping them apart, I actually can't believe it. "Um, can you say that again? I don't..." I shake my head, "I don't think I heard right."

"I saw Trey." She repeats slowly, making me cringe because, yup, I heard right. Maren is coughing a little violently but she continues anyway. "He was working at the bar and I was too busy watching the karaoke to notice until he talked to me and- oh my God, are you going to be okay?" She looks worriedly at Maren but I just wave a hand.

"She's fine." Maren throws a look at me through her coughing but thankfully can't comment. "So, Trey?" I continue. Riley nods. "Like... the Trey?" Another nod. "Like your Trey? Grade ten-"

"Yes, Mar! That Trey." She confirms, probably a bit confused about how many Treys I could know that would require this level of clarification.

The conversation seems to have attracted the attention of the guys, who, a moment ago, were contemplating the mechanics of a masculine split, but all look this way in interest now. "Who's Trey?" John asks.

"Her Ex." I reply. She raises her eyebrows at me for answering for her, but I don't really care. "Where'd you see him?"

"I told you, at the bar-"

"What was he doing there?"

"Well, I guess he works there. Anyway-"

"What's he doing out here?"

She throws her hands up. "Jeez, Mar, I don't know! It's not like I had a conversation with the guy." She sits back and shakes her head. Then she cringes. "I basically just ran away. Was that rude? It was rude wasn't it? Ugh." She lets her head flop back as she groans dramatically at the ceiling.

"Well, he didn't exactly say goodbye to you very politely either." I point out, feeling a familiar surge of annoyance that I get whenever I think about it. "At least it was justified."

"Wait," Stanley holds out a hand and looks at Riley with what I take as irritated curiosity, "what'd he do?"

Riley lifts her head and sighs. "He spread some uh..." she scratches the back of her neck. "personal business, between him and me around the school and the truth got exaggerated a bit. You probably know about it actually." She nods along with the guys when they confirm reluctantly. "Yeah, and then he moved a couple days later and left me to deal with it." She clears her throat awkwardly because of the topic of conversation, quickly moving on. "But, you know, it's fine. I'm over it. Water under the bridge and stuff."

Maren huffs disbelievingly. "More like-" She suddenly breaks off in a string of coughs and Riley pats her back.

"Don't strain yourself."

Maren pushes her hand away and manages a quick, oxygen deprived, "Shut up". Riley chuckles as Maren finally gets it under control and crosses her arms. Her voice still sounds a little tight when she talks. "I'm just saying, you should've done a lot more to him than just walk away. I would've done a lot more."

"Yeah, me too." Stanley agrees. Afterwards, he quietly adds, "bastard".

"And this is why we don't let you guys handle confrontation." John says soothingly, then strikes a horrified expression. "Imagine the bloodshed."

Maren raises an eyebrow, setting him with a look. "You don't let us?" She repeats.

John suddenly looks scared. "We shouldn't let you?" He amends uncertainly.

Maren huffs a disgruntled agreement, letting the starting argument fall. She changes the topic and picks up her bottle. "Anyway, I just can't believe that asshole works at the bar too. I mean is there anything he doesn't do around here?" She takes a sip of her beer, not seeming to notice what she just said until after I look at her in shock. She sees me looking and after a moment her eyes widen and she pauses, glancing cautiously at Riley to see if it sunk in.

Riley, predictably, just nods in blind agreement for a second, but then I see her eyebrows furrow, and she looks at Maren quickly. "Wait, what do you mean, 'he works at the bar too'? How would you know if he worked anywhere..." She trails off, and I know by her narrowed eyes that she's in the last stages of putting it together. Her mouth drops open. "Oh my God!" Her head snaps in my direction and I press my lips together. She points at me. "You guys knew! Wha-how-when...?" Her eyes are comically wide as she looks back and forth between us. "Oh my God."

"Okay, I'm sorry. We saw him working at the cafeteria on the first day-"

"On the first day?!" She repeats.

"Ohhhhhhh..." Joseph draws out the word, looking satisfied. "That's what that secret conversation was about. I get it now." He taps the side of his head and I close my eyes so he doesn't see me roll them.

"He knew too?"

"No, not exactly-"

"Did you all know? Am I the only one who didn't know?"

"Of course not." I sigh. Riley looks at the guys with her eyebrows raised, making them all rush to assure her that they were in the dark. "We just didn't want to tell you because we thought it might stress you out, and we didn't want to ruin your weekend." I explain.

She studies me while she mulls it over, eyes narrowed and her jaw unset. Honestly, I can probably count on one hand the amount of times she's ever gotten actually mad. It's such a rare thing that I really don't think she knows how to deal with it. So she doesn't, apparently. She sighs, crosses her arms and slumps a little in her chair.

"Well... fine." She says eventually. "That's actually very nice." I stifle a smile at the predictable response but Maren snorts. Riley rolls her eyes and takes a fry from her plate. Then she looks across the table and her eyebrows pinch in. "Where'd the guys go?" Confused, I turn to the seats to find them now empty of the three men that sat there only moment before.

"Oh, yeah. Joseph said something about going to the bathroom?" Maren says. I have no idea how she knows this considering Riley and I didn't even know they left, but I don't question it. "I think Joseph knew he was in trouble. Plus Stanley was pretty mad. John probably went to calm him down or something." She shrugs, chewing on an onion ring, which is weird since we didn't even get onion rings but whatever. For the moment I'll just assume one got mixed in with the fries.

I nod at the explanation and Riley makes a hum of understanding, bringing the fry to her mouth. But then she suddenly changes her mind and points it at me instead. "But seriously, I can decide which people I want to avoid all by myself." She goes back to the previous topic, but without the bitterness. Instead, she almost sounds apologetic. "Thank you, but I'm almost an adult, Mar. I've got this."

"Okay, fine." I concede. She smiles and puts the fry in her mouth, satisfied. I look over her shoulder. "By the way, he's coming over here right now."

Her eyes go wide. "Really?!" She suddenly starts coughing. It takes me a second to realize she choked on her fry. She looks over her shoulder and turns back just as quickly, regaining her breath. "Shoot, what do I do?"

"You're almost an adult." Maren repeats her earlier statement. She reaches over and shakes her shoulder with mock encouragement. "You've got this."

"Helpful." Riley says dryly, but she's right back into panic mode again right after without hesitation. "Seriously though. Should I go talk to him? Should I run? Should I- no, screw it I'm gonna talk to him. I am a mature person, the bigger person and stuff so yeah, I'll just-" she clears her throat and begins to push herself out of the chair. "Oh wait-" she drops back down and looks at Maren. "Do I look okay?"

"Really?" Maren accuses around the food in her mouth.

Riley nods and waves a hand, standing up again. "Yeah, you're right. It's stupid, I'll just go talk to him. Doesn't matter how I look, it's cool, it's fine, everything is okie dokie-"

"You look great." I tell her.

She sighs gratefully. "Thank you."

After brushing off any non-existent dirt from her jeans, Riley pushes in her chair and starts in the direction of her ex-boyfriend, who actually has the audacity to wave at us with his free hand. I guess it's no trouble for him to recognize us now after connecting the dots. A drink is in his other hand.

Maren and I both watch on as he passes her the drink, saying something with a smirk that makes her look at the floor and shake her head. She's turned back on though so it's impossible to tell which emotion is behind it.

"What is he saying to her?" Maren says quietly, as thought they might overhear us from across the noisy room.

"How would I know?" I find myself speaking just as quietly for some reason. Even if there was a possibility we could be heard, I'm sure our concentrated looks and crossed arms would draw more attention than our voices. Neither of us care though, completely engrossed as Riley begins making those quick hand gestures she does when she's trying to explain something.

"Where's Riley?"

I actually jump at John's voice, turning to see the guys all sit back at the table. Stanley doesn't even break his concerned facial expression with a smirk at my reaction.

"She's talking to Trey." I reply, quickly looking back so I don't miss anything.

"What? Why?" Stanley questions.

"She's being a mature adult."

"Well what's he saying to her?"

John shoots him a look. "How would she know?"

"Thank you." I tell him absentmindedly. I feel the table shift with the weight of three men leaning into it in interest. Stanley hums something that sounds like an agreement, or an acknowledgment at the very least, squinting in the direction of the couple.

"Can you tell what's happening?" Joseph whispers.

"Not quite..." Stanley leans further into the table and I seriously don't think I've ever seen him so focused.

"Okay, lets see here." Joseph apparently takes the initiative to figure out what's happening. He nods. "Alright, so she's talking... he laughed... he's looking over here... he's looking over here!"

We all pretend to be heavily engrossed in our food except for Stanley and Maren, who continue looking defiantly. I wait until Joseph cautiously lifts his head to carry on with determining the nature of the conversation.

"Jesus, what's he saying to her? Do you think she needs him to back off?" Stanley puts his chin on his fist and squints at them.

"I think she's fine." Maren replies absentmindedly.

Stanley accepts the assurance with only a little bit of reluctance, which is kind of a miracle considering who it came from. But when Trey's face suddenly gets serious and he takes Riley's free hand in his, Stanley shoots out of his chair. "Alright, that's enough of that-"

"Stay here." John grabs him by the shirt and pulls him back down into his seat, which is no small task considering the size of him. Stanley struggles for a moment, but relents, crossing his arms and glaring at John and Trey in succession.

While I finally grab some food, everyone else continues watching, sometimes voicing suspicions on what the ex-couple could be talking about. By the time I get my food, Joseph is rapidly whispering about how she's coming back and for everyone to act natural. Of course, nobody cares for his advice, all of us holding our same questioning positions as she makes her way back, the drink he gave her in hand.

She lets out a sigh as she rejoins the table, noting the odd silence of everyone with a raised eyebrow. "Hi?"

Joseph groans to my left. "So...?" He demands, making a vague hand gesture that displays urgency.

"Nice job acting natural." Maren shoots him a sarcastic thumbs-up from across the table. Joseph presses his lips together and looks down sheepishly. Riley actually smirks a little at the reaction, strangely calm for someone who was freaking out so bad just a minute ago.

"Nothing bad happened." She shrugs. "He just asked me about school, told me he felt bad and apologized." She explains. Nodding, she glances at Joseph and John's approving reactions, quickly moving on when she sees Stanley's skeptically eyebrow. "Yeah, and he brought me the Pepsi I ordered. You know, before I ran away and stuff." We're all quiet as she stirs the drink with a straw, looking at ease despite the situation she was just in.

"So that's it?" Maren finally asks, suspicion and irritation in her tone.

Riley shoots her a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

"Like, he wasn't an ass? I don't need to kick his ass? Because I will, just tell me-"

"I know you would, and that's very..." Riley pats Maren's arm, "Sweet, of you. But everything is fine. He actually seemed very heartfelt." She smiles and I suddenly understand why she's so content. She might have made her own peace with the breakup before, but knowing the feelings of both of them must have made her feel complete somehow. She shrugs and raises her glass. "Plus, I got a free Pepsi."

"Yeah, that's pretty good." Joseph agrees with a grin, looking genuinely happy for her.

Riley smiles at him and sips her drink, only for her to cough on it immediately afterwards, managing to swallow with a cringe. I raise an eyebrow and she clears her throat. "Yup," She shakes her head. "That's not Pepsi."

"What do you mean, it's not Pepsi?" Stanley questions, his voice threateningly low.

"I mean, it's not all Pepsi." She assures quickly. At the blank looks from everyone, she adds, "There's a lot of alcohol." Everybody at the table immediately makes the universal 'ohhhhh' noise, meaning it clicked. She sighs and tips the cup again, forgetting about using the straw and cringing when she takes the second sip.

"You're going to drink it?" Maren laughs.

"Well yeah." She replies like it's obvious. "It was an apology drink. I can't not drink it. That would be rude." To emphasize, she takes another sip, her reaction less strong now that she's getting used to the taste. "But just to be clear, it's out of obligation."

"Do you not drink or something?" Stanley asks, smirking. "Got an AA meeting to go to?"

Riley rolls her eyes. "No, I'm just a light weight and I don't like how it tastes." She explains, which is completely reasonable, but Stanley just looks at her with narrowed eyes like she's hiding a secret or something. It's probably shocking to him that someone chooses not to drink simply because they don't like it.

"It's not about the taste." He reasons.

"Well, I don't like the way it makes me feel then." She gives him a look, which could be annoyed if she tried harder.

"You mean a hangover?"

"Sure." She relents, giving up.

It looks like he's going to let the conversation die until he suddenly leans forward, a curious look on his face. "So... you don't say that Trey guy could get you anymore drinks eh? Maybe-" he stops and counts the members at the table quickly, which is concerning since he should really know how many of us there are by now, "about five more?" He raises an eyebrow while Riley opens her mouth but doesn't say anything, definitely contemplating how he ever thought that scheme would go over well.

Turns out Riley doesn't have to respond, because Maren has it covered.

"You're an asshole." She accuses, picking at her food. I bite back a laugh and I see John try to hide a smile by taking a sip of his beer.

"Okay, no drinks for you then." Stanley retorts easily. Their arguing has become so frequent that he doesn't even put in the effort to be offended anymore.

Maren's uninterested look turns into a glare as he reaches over and takes a fry from her plate. "Are you serious?" She asks, with all the intensity of somebody who would actually murder a person over some fries.

He grins. "What are you gonna do about it, peg leg?"

You would swear there's nothing wrong with either of her knees by the speed she stands up. And she might not get very far before John puts an arm out to stop her, but Stanley jerks his chair back in escape anyway, and that seems to be enough for her.

. . .

"Okay so, never have I ever... gone to jail."

John cringes at his own question, knowing there's a slim chance of anybody drinking to that. Getting bored and starting a game of never have I ever was probably not Stanley's greatest idea since we seem to have started running out of questions. It's been fun though, and I've already gone through one beer, which is substantially less than everyone else. I guess you don't know how much you haven't done until you compare it with others in a drinking game.

Stanley gives John a disappointed look as he finishes his question, but John just shrugs like it was the best he can do.

"The point of the game is to get people to take a drink." Stanley reminds him.

"I know, it's just hard. I don't want to go too personal, you know?" He defends, gesturing to Maren so she can go.

"Yeah, we shouldn't go too personal." Maren agrees so sincerely that I know immediately she's going to disobey it the first chance she gets. "Never have I ever fallen off of a treadmill." She looks directly at John as she says it, and his mouth drops, offended.

Stanley bursts out laughing. "See? That's how you play, dude."

John grudgingly takes a sip of his beer while Riley discreetly does so next to me while all the focus is on him. I have a feeling she doesn't want to share the story. I don't even know what happened, all I know is that when she showed up to school one day with a bruise on her face and scrapes on her hands, she said something about a treadmill and told us not to ask. We haven't.

Riley's next, and she's on her second beer after swearing before she wouldn't have anything else to drink. She's already drunk so she wasn't lying about being a lightweight at all. Although, who knows the amount of alcohol that was in that first drink. "Um... oh, my turn? Okay..." She thinks for a moment. "Never have I ever had a cat."

Someone (probably Stanley) makes a noise of approval when John, Joseph and I all take a sip of our drinks. I look at Joseph. "You have a cat?"

"You have a cat?" He throws back. I hear Stanley make and 'ohhhh' sound, followed by Maren saying something about a 'lover's quarrel'.

"I used to when I was younger." I explain.

He nods. "Okay, well yeah, I have one. His name is Rocky and he stays in the basement all the time." He states casually while I try not to think of how terrible it is that I've been to his house and even in his basement multiple times and never knew he had a cat. "You wouldn't want to meet him." He continues. "He's actually the devil. Like, from the depths of hell."

"He is." John agrees, nodding and looking distant, probably recalling a traumatic memory with it. Stanley nods too.

"Well, that's... nice." I shake my head, actually concerned about how evil a cat could be that would warrant this many people to agree with the harsh description. I decide not to think about it and continue. "Never have I ever broken a bone."

Immediately, all the guys say a shocked, "You haven't?" all at once. Maren and Riley don't say anything, but the former smirks at me, having argued with me before about how weird it was.

"No I haven't." I affirm. "I've sprained stuff, but never broken anything." When I think about it, it probably is a miracle I haven't considering how many falls I've taken on ice. Maybe I've just been lucky.

"If you ever break anything, I'll sign your cast." Joseph says, smiling at me.

"Thanks, babe." I reply flatly. I roll my eyes but take his outstretched hand anyway, unable to hold in a smile when his grin widens. Riley makes a noise and loudly whispers something about how "they're so cute" to Maren, who I know couldn't care less. "Your turn." I say to Joseph.

"Oh right." He sits up straighter and puts on his thinking look; lips pressed together, one eyebrow up and one eyebrow down. It's completely ridiculous and I kind of hate that I like it a lot. "Never have I ever broken more than one bone."

"Creative." John mutters as he takes a sip. Stanley and Riley join him, and John looks surprised when Maren doesn't tip her bottle. Despite how outgoing she is, she kind of has always had a thing where she tends to do physical things better than everyone else naturally. It also means she tends to remain damage free when doing things that most people get injured doing.

"Hey, Maren. Remember that time you dared me to jump off Marina's shed and then I broke my leg because there was a rock under the snow?" Riley says. Maren slowly smirks, still finding it funny, and nods. "Well I'm still bitter." Riley finishes, although it's an obvious lie. I'm not sure she's even capable of holding a grudge.

"It wasn't all my fault. You had your own mind." Maren dismisses.

"We were eight." Riley presses. "I was an... impressionable youth." I can tell the word is hard for her to say, whether it's because she's drunk or just because it's a big word, I'll never know.

"And a dumb one too." Maren says, her grin only widening. "Who Just jumps off a roof without knowing what's at the bottom?"

"Who's dares an eight year old to jump off a roof, you sicko?"

I start laughing, joining the guys who were already chuckling at the argument and how stupid the situation was. It wasn't funny at the time. I remember running into the house to tell mom, and even though Maren obviously doesn't feel bad now, she did then. We also weren't in Riley's Mom's good books for a while after that, especially Maren after Riley failed to lie to her about what happened.

"How'd you even get up there?" Joseph asks.

"There was a lot of snow that year." I reply. His eyebrows shoot up.

"So you were there too?"

I chuckle. "It was my shed. It would be weird if I wasn't there."

"Oh, right." He says slowly, grinning as it all comes together.

"Okay," Stanley speaks up. "Never have I ever... had a dog." He continues the game before the issue can be discussed more,

John is the only one that takes a sip out of all of us. When he sees it, he looks appalled. "Really? Nobody else ever had a dog?"

"Well, I stayed with my aunt for a while once and she had one. Does that count?" Riley asks.

"Yes." Stanley replies, gesturing towards her with his beer for some reason, although he's not drunk yet, he just does strange things when he sober anyway. Riley seems to understand though and takes a sip of her beer. "Back to you, Johnny." Stanley announces. He eyes him seriously. "And make it a good one."

John rolls his eyes but obviously struggles to come up with something. After a moment, he finally sighs, sounding like he's given up. "Never have I ever smoked pot."

Stanley makes a loud groaning sound. "You're so boring." He complains. Then he lifts his bottle and takes a sip anyway. Riley joins him and beside me, Joseph does too.

"You did?" Maren asks him, surprised. "Never would have thought that." She shrugs, not making a big deal over it.

"Stanley pressured me." He defends quickly like she was about to sentence him life on prison, even pointing an accusing finger at his friend.

Stanley looks offended. "I did not. I asked if you wanted a joint and you said, and I quote, 'YOLO' and took it."

Joseph looks sheepish and I laugh at him. "YOLO?"

"I was drunk." He groans. When John starts laughing too he crosses his arms, defensive. "I think the real concern here is that Riley did it." He says, clearly attempting to pass everyone's attention away from him.

"Actually I'm not even surprised." Stanley admits.

John nods. "Me neither." He looks at her and adds, "Not saying you come off as a pothead or anything, it's just-"

"No, I get where you're coming from, don't worry." Riley waves a dismissive hand at him, smiling in reassurance.

Joseph looks downhearted that his distraction didn't work and he slumps in his chair, gesturing to Maren. "Please go."

She actually takes pity on him and taps her bottle as she thinks. All of her questions have been very personal so far, so I get a little nervous every time it's her turn. There's a lot of stuff she could drag up out of the past. "Okay. Never have I ever been below five foot five at the age of seventeen."

Riley, her chosen victim, just shakes her head as the rest of us chuckle, waiting for her to take a sip. She doesn't, although she does look a bit smug when she sees Maren's questioning look. "I'm five foot six, Maren."

I swear all of our eyebrows shoot up at the exact same time, except John, who's eyebrows are furrowed so much he has a crease in the middle of them. There's silence for a moment until Stanley finally decides to voice everyone's doubts. "Sorry, Pierce, But there's no way you're five six."

"I am." Riley insists. "I have a measuring thing on the wall at my house. I've been this height since grade nine."

"Well your measure is a few inches off." Maren says. "I'm five six and you're shorter than me."

"You're like... five seven." Riley says, apparently choosing to ignore the fact that she's obviously more than one inch shorter than Maren.

Suddenly Stanley pushes out his chair, stands up, and walks away from the table without a word. We all share confused glances as he disappears into the crowd. We forget about the game and a conversation starts up about where he could be gone. A few minutes later he returns, holding something in his hand. He stands by Riley's chair and pulls it out easily with her still on it.

"Stand up." He orders.

"Is that a measuring tape?" She asks.

"With centimetres to inch conversions." He confirms proudly. "Stand up." He raises his eyebrows at her. Sighing, she complies and gets to her feet, patiently standing next to him as he pulls the tape out.

"Where'd you even get that?" John laughs.

Stanley leans down and tells her to step on the end of it. "Oh you know..." He pulls it up so he's holding it over her head, squinting at the thin lines on the tape. "I just asked around." He examines the tape for another moment before pulling the end from under her feet and letting it coil up with a loud click. "You're exactly five feet and three inches tall."

Her mouth drops open and we all laugh at her, with the exception of Stanley, who just smirks in his usual smug way. "No, that has to be wrong. There's no way!" She exclaims.

"It's a measuring tape, it's not wrong." Stanley laughs, leaving her to return to his seat across the table. She still just stands and watches him go with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Oh my God." She says finally. "All these years I just thought everyone was freakishly tall."

"Nope, you're just very, very small." Maren says. Riley doesn't even look like she hears her, shaking her head.

"My entire life is a lie."

"Oh stop being so dramatic and sit down." Maren kicks her chair as a reminder. Riley glances down at the seat before slowly moving around it and lowering herself into it. She leans her elbows on the table and shakes her head.

"So, you have to drink now." Stanley reminds her.

She wrinkles her nose at him, finally accepting it. "Where'd you even find that thing anyway? It's probably broken." Taking a sip, she shakes her head until she pulls the bottle away with a frown and turns it upside down, nothing coming out. She makes a big show of shaking it at Stanley until he chuckles and reaches into the cooler to get her new one. But then he frowns as he pulls it out, closely examining the contents of the cooler before closing the lid.

"That's the last one." He announces, passing the bottle over the Riley. "I'll have to run back and get more. I really don't want to take the whole cooler though." Suddenly, it seems an idea occurs to him and he snaps his fingers. "Does anybody have a jacket with a lot of pockets?"

"Mine does, I'll go with you." Riley says, standing up again after auctioning off her beer to John. As she's putting her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, she suddenly freezes and looks at the ground like she's remembering something. "Oh my God, I told the DMV I was five foot six when I got my license." She says with wide eyes.

Joseph starts laughing immediately while John tries to look supportive but fails. Maren just rolls her eyes at Riley's obvious worry. "Yes, because if you ever get stopped, the first thing to police are going to do is pull out a measuring tape to see if you lied about your height."

Riley can't even stop a laugh at the sarcastic statement, probably noticing now just how little it actually matters. "Still, you should probably get that changed." John advises. It's met with a chorus of agreements and Riley's face falls before She trudges off with Stanley, muttering about long lines and the DMV.

Stanley

I have no idea when I got this drunk. Which is funny, because usually I can tell when I'm at least starting to feel the alcohol in my system, but tonight it came as a shock. I was feeling fine (maybe a little tipsy) when we were all sitting down. But then I got out of my chair and found myself stumbling away from it and then laughing, and then I kind of knew.

And then somehow, I found myself on the dance floor, jumping to the beat of Thunderstruck by AC/DC, and I think Joseph may have dragged Marina out here too, but she's not drunk, and neither is he. John is though. I can tell because he's out here too, right beside me, shouting out the lyrics in celebration of the conclusion of the karaoke that thankfully ended a few songs ago. I find myself vaguely thinking that I like drunk John way better than normal John. Drunk John is the version that's fun, instead of the one that looks in my cup and grimaces, telling me something like "you're gonna feel that in the morning" or "Maybe that should be you're last". I never listen to him, even though I always feel it in the morning, and okay, maybe I shouldn't drink so much. But he doesn't tell me that now, so I pretend the issues don't exist.

An issue that does exist however is exhaustion. I'm not even sure how long I've been out here, and I'm kind of dizzy in the best way possible, but also in the way where I might just drop to the ground any minute without warning. I wait until the song is over to make my way back to the table, John asking why I'm leaving, but following anyway. Joseph and Marina also come back, Joseph grinning and Marina shaking her head fondly at him. I can only imagine the dance moves she had to put up with from him.

"Dude, I like you so much better when you're drunk." I tell John honestly. Both of us are breathing hard, I pull out a random chair and drop into it without realizing it's Marina's until she moves to a different one.

John grins but doesn't reply, tipping up his beer instead. He actually misses his mouth and he looks down, frowning for a second before reorienting himself and trying again. I snort and notice Riley openly smirk at it too. Usually she would try not to find amusement at other people's expense, but it doesn't seem like she cares right now.

I rest my arm on the back of her chair, leaning toward her with a permanent sloppy grin. "Hey, Pierce." I say it lowly, and probably with a bit of a slur judging by how her smile tugs up a little more at the corner of her mouth.

"Worthington." She replies. Usually the retort would hold a giggle, but unlike most people, she laughs less when she's drunk. I have a secret theory that she's already too happy anyway, so the alcohol just can't compare.

I wrinkle my nose. "Nope. Doesn't work as well."

"Well, you should probably start making it work. Last names tend to stick around." Although her eyes are teasing, they don't hold their usual light and energy, which is weird. I don't think about it too much because a new song starts playing and she sighs contently. "I love this song." She breaths, turning behind her as though to check for a band. Instead there's just speakers.

It's weird how quickly I forget all of my exhaustion from a moment ago, standing up and offering a hand down to Riley. "I guess we'll have to dance." I smirk, especially when her grin widens and she doesn't hesitate to reach up and take my hand, letting me pull her up.

I forget about asking anyone else at the table to dance and soon it's just us on the dance floor. Well, us and a few other couples in the mood for a slow dance. I realize that's what this song is, a slow song. So I put my hands on her waist as her's loop around my neck, both of us falling into an easy rhythm. And maybe it's so easy just because it's her, and she loves the song so maybe I do too.

"You're quite the dancer." She says eventually, with that smile that's somewhere between teasing and serious. I'm glad the song is quiet so we don't have to scream to hear each other. It makes me realize that I really like hearing her voice.

"One of my many talents." I reply.

"Oh yeah?" The tone is challenging but her expression is anything but that. I have to admire for a moment how relaxed she looks. While being cheerful is practically a staple of her personality, I don't know if I've ever actually seen her look completely content or... peaceful I guess. She's always moving in some way; a bouncing knee or a tapping pencil. It's strange to see her completely fine with the calm movement. "And how many other talents do you have?" She asks.

"A couple." I reply nonchalantly, but smirking at her anyway. "I think you'd be surprised."

"I somehow doubt that I would." A smile is melted into her words, making them sound more suggestive than they should, even though the sentence was completely innocent.

For once, I don't carry on the suggestive tone. It feels wrong when she doesn't know she's doing it. Instead I take one of her hands from my neck and hold it up so she can spin under it. She does and when I pull her back to me she's grinning the same lopsided way she always does. She comes a little closer than before, but that might be an accident. I put my hand back on her waist while she puts hers on my shoulder, our other ones loosely joined on the other side as we slowly rock back at forth.

"You're not a bad dancer yourself." I tease.

She laughs a little, but it doesn't sound like it usually does. Her normal laugh is kind of like the chain of giggles kids make, but this one is smooth and short. "All I did was spin."

"But you did it gracefully."

"That would be a first."

"There's a first time for everything." I remind her. Her smile gets a little wider.

"I guess there is." She doesn't say anything else, but I can hear her humming the song playing under her breath. It's definitely something by Ed Sheran, which means it's a love song and has a guitar in it, but I wouldn't be able to tell which one it is. I don't know if it's because she's humming it, but I find myself thinking it's nice.

Although, despite the peace, something has been bothering me for a while. I look over her head at direction of the bar and clear my throat. "So... about, uh, Travis-"

"Trey." She corrects.

"Yeah, that asshole." I confirm. She makes a chiding noise but I don't care. "What exactly happened?"

"Oh." She says as though she had no idea that's where the conversation was going. "Is it heart-to-heart time? Are we that drunk now?" Smiling wryly, she shrugs. "We were dating for a couple months, we had sex at a party and then when it went around the school it got turned into a threesome in the bathroom or something." She explains casually, with none of the hesitation that was present in her earlier explanation. "I used to think he spread the rumour."

"He didn't?" I ask.

"No." She shakes her head and a smile comes onto her face that looks kind of dazed, but only a little. When she looks up and sees I want a larger explanation, she continues. "When I talked to him just then he said that he told one person and they spread it around."

I blink in confusion. "Which is somehow better?"

She looks incredulous. "Of course it's better. At least he didn't do it on purpose. Anyway, he left town after that because his Mom got a job out here." She twists her lips to the side, like she's regretting something. "The only thing that bothers me is that he didn't even tell me. Like, how hard is it to send a text?" She shakes her head and I find myself nodding along.

"I know the feeling."

Her eyebrows furrow and she looks up at me, actually tilting her head a little. I never really meant to say it, but it just came out because of the moment and yeah, probably because of the alcohol too. Considering she told me what happened to her, I swallow my pride and answer her unsaid question.

"I had a girlfriend, we dated for six months, she went on business trips with her Dad a lot to... somewhere in the States I think. Anyway, turns out she was dating a guy while she was down there, and a week after I found out, her Dad got a permanent job and they moved."

Riley face portrays shock, and then she looks away, muttering something under her breath that I don't think was friendly. "How did you find out?" She asks.

"When her Dad got the job she told me."

Riley's lips slant to the side, her eyes sympathetic, and I know now that it's not fake. "That sucks." She rubs her hand on my arm in a comforting way. "You don't deserve that."

"Well you didn't deserve it either." I shake my head and glare at the bar, where I know the guy who no doubt broke her heart is working without a care. Sighing, I add a little quieter, "He's the biggest idiot in the world."

Riley smiles a bit, crooked and small. "I guess it really is heart-to-heart time." She chuckles, and I suddenly find anger welling up inside me. After what he did, she just forgave him in a heartbeat, and he still thinks a simple apology drink should be enough?

Then she shakes her head, her grin turning bright like it usually is instead of the other version I've been seeing all night. "Seriously though? What are the chances of that happening to both of us?"

I feel my anger dissipate as she grins, and I can't help but find the humour in it too. "Really though!" I agree immediately. I've never actually thought about it until now, but she makes a good point.

"I mean, it just seems super unlikely."

"That's true."

"Honestly, nobody does that."

"Because it's stupid."

"So stupid."

We're both nodding along to the conversation in seriousness, until we catch each other's eyes and she tries to keep it up, but predictably breaks out in a laugh after only a second.

I smirk. "We should tell Tony-"

"-Trey."

"-how stupid it is." I say. I'm surprised when she nods determinedly, standing up on her toes in an attempt to look over my shoulder at the bar.

"That was stupid!" She calls out.

"Yeah!" I join in, angrily glaring over my shoulder in the general direction of him. "Really stupid, dude!" I lift my hand in a rude gesture, Riley hurriedly pulling it down with a surprised yelp. None of it was actually loud enough for him to have a chance of hearing it but it makes me feel better. "Well, I hope that made you feel better." I tell her.

"Oh yeah. A hundred percent." She agrees with too much enthusiasm to be remotely serious. "We should shout stuff more often."

"Absolutely."

She smiles crookedly, and then without any warning, she takes her hand from mine and puts her arms around me, her head falling to rest on my chest. Yeah, I know, she's a touchy drunk and stuff, but I'm still surprised at the very least. But I don't hesitate to put my arms around her either. It's like a reflex.

"You're a good guy, Stanley." She murmurs, rocking back and forth slightly, like she still hasn't stopped dancing. She lets out a soft sigh, so soft that I'm sure I would never know it happened if I didn't feel her shoulders drop with it. "You just don't know it yet, that's all." My heart squeezes in a weird way when she says it. I quickly realize it's guilt, although I'm not sure why. Maybe I'll figure it out when I'm sober.

"Okay." Is all I say.

She tilts her head so she's looking up at me, her chin resting where the side of her head just was. Her eyes are warm and insistent and uncharacteristically serious. "Stay here. Please."

I know in a heartbeat that it's impossible to say no to her right now, even if I wanted to. But I have a feeling she might want some reassurance. So chuckling, I take one hand from her and unconsciously tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. It's a French braid tonight, courtesy of Marina I think. I forgot to tell her it looks nice. "I didn't plan on going anywhere."

She smiles, close-mouthed and wide. "I know." She says, scrunching up her nose before turning her head to the side again. Her arms loosen as she relaxes, but she keeps them around my waist anyway.

"How much have you had to drink?" I ask her. I'm not complaining about the situation, just curious about how much the alcohol is a factor.

"Um... not very much?"

Alright, so she's still a terrible liar when she's drunk. "Okay, let's see then." I try to think of a question that would prove her sobriety. "What's five times five?" I finally ask.

"Twenty five." She says, not lifting her head. "And that's too easy. You would know that."

"Ha, joke's on you, I didn't know that actually." I say smugly.

She's silent for a moment. "Really?"

"Anyway, moving on." I clear my throat and she laughs. I take one of her hands from my back and hold it to the side so it looks more like we're dancing and not just hugging in the middle of everyone. "Thirteen times seventeen." I challenge.

It takes her just a moment longer then usual. "Two twenty one."

Even though I have no way to prove if she's right, I assume she is and move on. "Okay, square root of eighty one." Before she can even take a breath I realize my mistake. "Never mind, no! Too easy. Let me think... square root of forty five."

"Exact or approximate value."

The question startles me. "What?"

I feel her chuckle against me more than I hear the sound. "You're supposed to know this." She chides gently. Even her drunk self is in tutor mode.

"Whatever." I reply after quickly searching my memory for the terms and coming up with nothing. "Both then."

"Three root five for exact, and around six point seven for the approximation." She says. I really shouldn't be surprised. "You know, even if I was pretty drunk, which I'm not," which she clearly is, "it doesn't mean my mind would just stop working." She continues.

"Yeah, but you're still drunk." I point out. "The only thing this proved is that even when you've been drinking you're still a nerd." She just shrugs, knowing there's no room for argument

Eventually she lifts her head from my chest, backing up so there's a little more space between us, but still not a lot. And then we stay like that for a minute, rocking back and strangely peaceful. If she weren't drunk, she probably would have gotten antsy by now or would be holding more of a conversation, but this is nice too.

"What kind of dog did you aunt have?" I ask after a while. Silence with her, while comfortable, is a little unusual so I feel the need to start a conversation.

"A German Shepard. Her name is Lucy and she's the best."

"What makes her the best?" I challenge.

She scoffs lightly, like she can't even believe someone is asking that question. "Well, for starters, when you throw a stick she gets it and drops it at your feet." She says. "And she's really cute."

"Okay, I'm sold." I nod in affirmation and she gives me a smug smile. "I'll get you a dog." I state, completely and stupidly serious.

She doesn't seem to think it's so stupid, her eyes lighting up for a second before it falls away as she obviously remembers something. "My sister is allergic." She looks around cautiously for a moment, like she's checking to see if she's anywhere in hearing range before she leans in. "But I have a theory."

"A theory?" I repeat with wide eyes. Usually she'd catch on to the exaggerated act, but it seems to fool her adorably drunk mind tonight.

"Uh huh." Nodding, her voice drops down to a whisper and I tilt my head to hear her. "I think she just doesn't like them." I gasp and she raises her eyebrows affirmingly.

"What a liar." I chide. Riley makes a sound of agreement. "I mean, I'm not a fan either but at least I don't lie about it."

She suddenly takes a step back, her mouth dropping open. "You don't like dogs?"

I notice all of her movement stilled, as though frozen by her shock. I'm still holding onto her though, so instead of denying it, I smirk and tug her hand so she comes back. Well, stumbles back more like it. She grips my shoulder to steady herself and pulls me down a bit as she straightens. And then there's a moment where she looks up and her face is really close to mine and usually my breath would catch in my throat, but I just smirk, thanking the buzz in my head. She just giggles, a small, quiet sound that isn't nervous or embarrassed, but not like her normal self either. Her fingers idly play with the fabric of my shirt as she puts more distance between us, her arms looping around my neck.

"My Dad used to say I shouldn't talk to guys who don't like dogs." She says teasingly, any and all of her offended ruse gone with her laugh. Her smirk falls a little when she finishes the sentence, but I'm suddenly a little too panicked to ask why.

"Well, it's not that I don't like them." I defend clumsily. It's stupid because I know she's joking, but yet, there's still doubt. "I mean, if I had one I'm sure I'd-"

"Don't worry, Stan. I'll still talk to you." She assures, whispering like it's a secret. A lazy grin is on her face again when my eyebrows shoot up as she uses my nickname. "I already like you. And I'll get you to like dogs." She nods with all the confidence a drunk girl making promises should have, and I can't help but think she should confident. I'd probably agree with her on anything right now, and she might know it.

"I like you too." I say.

She hums. "I know."

"Someone's cocky."

"I think that'd be you."

"Maybe." I agree, finding nothing else to say.

She starts humming the song idly again, obviously familiar with it, and leans into me again, her head on my chest. I worry for a moment that she can hear my heartbeat, how fast it's going, but then she starts singing and I'm pretty sure it stops completely.

Her voice, usually threaded with small breaks and laughs, comes out completely smooth. It's not loud at all, so quiet actually that in a different world she may have been singing just to me. But it's an Ed Sheran song and that thought was way too cheesy, so it's not exactly plausible. Still, she sounds so much better than the voice coming from the speakers, and it's not even because I'm biased.

"You said you don't sing." I accuse.

"I don't." She replies, but I know that's just her immediate response and after a second she'll get that it doesn't make a lot of sense considering she was literally just singing. I wait a couple beats and she predictably speaks again. "Okay, but it's not really my thing."

I scoff. "It obviously is your thing. Have you heard yourself? You're good." My question is met with silence other than than the sound of her humming starting up again. "So..." I start again, a smirk coming across my face. "You don't sing, but you sang for me...?"

I feel her laugh against me more than I hear it. "What? I didn't sing for you, weirdo."

"Who then?"

It takes her a moment to answer. "For myself." I can picture her wrinkling her nose at me and it makes me chuckle. "My drunk self." She looks up at me and grins lopsidedly as though to prove it. As though I actually need proof.

"You should have done karaoke." I look up at the stage and am reminded by the dim lights that it's no longer in use.

She shrugs, also looking over her shoulder where my eyes have settled. "Not really my thing." She repeats.

I give a grunt of disagreement, which she chuckles at. I hold up my hand for another spin and she does, turning around under my arm with more grace than I would ever expect from her sober. When she grins as she faces me again, wrapping her arms around my neck, I kind of just look for longer than I should. Eventually she taps the back of my head gently, tilting her head to the side.

"You're quiet." She accuses, light and smiley.

"Just thinking." I reply, already knowing she'll put on the most innocent expression and ask me what's on my mind with so much sincerity I'll be forced to answer.

I feel her fingers playing with the neck of my shirt as she does exactly what I pictured. "About what?"

"Doing something stupid."

It must be the alcohol that causes a slow smirk to spread across her lips as she looks up at me. And it also must be the alcohol that lets my mind stay calm instead of turning to static when she leans closer.

Then she waggles her eyebrows. "Something stupid, huh?" There's a definite spark of mischief on her eyes, and it makes my grin match hers. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

I shake my head, my entire mind asking me the same thing. "Good question." I reply, and through the peaceful buzz in my brain, I start leaning closer.

Marina

"All I'm saying is that it's suspicious how they even keep this bar open. Seriously. It's way too easy to sneak booze in here." Maren rants grumpily, needing something to complain about other than her leg. I watch in amusement as she crosses her arms and huffs, way too mad about the small issue to be normal. "I mean, we literally brought a bright red cooler in here and nobody even glanced. A cooler!"

"Yes, I heard you the first time actually." I say. She arches an eyebrow at me, uncaring for my retort, and I shrug with a smirk, thinking of ways to wind her up more, mostly because I know she's bored. Plus, Maren isn't dangerous unless she's angry about actual issues. "I don't know, maybe they just trust people." I argue even though I agree with her completely.

The expression she shoots me is so flat I have to stifle a laugh. "What else would be in a large, red cooler besides alcohol?"

I shrug. "Ice?"

She groans. "Mar, that isn't the point." She leans back in her chair, shaking her head and staring into the distance.

"Why are you so invested in this?" I ask after a second, laughing when she shakes her head again, this time in disappointment.

Not seeming to find the answer, she finally sighs. "I have no clue." She reaches a hand up to rub her face. "I think I'm just so bored, I mean, there's nothing to do."

I roll my eyes even though I do feel pity for her. I know all she can think about is how many hockey practices she'll miss if her leg doesn't get better soon, but she hates pity so I don't let it show, gesturing out to the dance floor. "Just watch Joseph and John dance. I promise, you'll be entertained."

She smirks and we both locate the guys joined in a dance, laughing about something and swaying back and forth with such intensity that the couples around them keep sending cautious glances at them to make sure they're not in imenant danger.

"I didn't think Joseph was drunk." Maren says.

I tilt my head to the side and purse my lips in concern. "He isn't."

Maren laughs and I shake my head, amused at him. "He's so weird." She says, then adding, "In a good way I guess."

"Yeah, I guess." I agree. I chuckle as John waves animatedly over Joseph's shoulder, and I wave back with a little more modesty.

Maren sighs, her eyes scanning the rest of the dance floor. "Now, where are Stanley and Riley? Because if she trips up I want to see-" the words seem to die in her throat as what appears to be a stroke overtakes her. I turn to see her mouth drop open, eyes wide.

She looks at me in what I assume to be horror and points to the dance floor. Even though I'm legitimately concerned for her, I take a look. It only takes me a moment to find the pair, linked together close to the edge of the space and... making out.

Stanley and Riley. Making out.

Oh my God. I look at Maren, my expression probably the same as hers. "Oh my God!" I voice my exact thoughts and she nods distantly.

When they pull apart I fear suddenly that they heard my outburst, but they don't even glance this way, continuing dancing as though everything is normal.

"Um..." Maren is staring at them too, and even she isn't able to hide her obvious shock. She points at them and her eyes dart back and forth between them and I. "That doesn't count. They're drunk, it can't count, it just... can't. It doesn't and it can't." She sounds almost desperate. I realize it must be her worst nightmare; her best friend and worst enemy dating.

"Yeah..." I say slowly, unsure.

She huffs in displeasure. "It can't count." She states again firmly. "Right?"

Her sentence sounded so confident that it takes me a second to realize she's actually waiting for me to agree with her. "Right, yeah." I rush out. I don't sound convincing in the least, but she nods anyway, satisfied.

"We'd better talk to her." Maren says after another moment. She waves a hand in the general direction of Riley and Stanley. "About this. I don't want it getting out of hand." I raise an eyebrow at her and she sighs. "Or if it does get out of hand I'd like to be warned."

I know that by 'out of hand' she just means them dating, but term she used was surprisingly non-hostile considering the situation.

"We might want to wait until she's sober though." I suggest, frowning at the graceful way she rocks back and forth and the clumsier way he does. I assume alcohol has a factor in both.

"Yeah." Maren agrees distantly, although I already know the moment Riley sits back down she's going to be victim to the start of an interrogation. Crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes, Maren kind of resembles a disapproving mother, but I'd have to be stupid to voice that opinion.

"At least he's better than Trey." I try.

She doesn't actually need to answer, because the withering glare she sends me is clear enough.

Eventually Riley returns to the table as a more upbeat song comes on, Stanley staying behind and disappearing into the crowd. She sighs as she sits down and immediately picks up her beer. Knowing Maren may not be as nice about the discussion, I start it off gently.

"So, you guys have fun out there?" I ask.

She makes an incomprehensible sound while nodding with the bottle still to her lips. I take it as an agreement, but don't say anything more since she hurriedly stops drinking so she can elaborate. "Yeah, it was fun. It was so fun." She nods. "We did math."

I can't help but laugh. "Did you now?" She makes another hum of agreement as she takes another sip. A longer one this time since her other one got cut short.

"So..." Maren is very much not laughing. "Did you do anything else out there? Besides math?"

Riley shrugs, not putting much thought into it. "I don't know. We talked and... stuff."

Maren narrows her eyes, studying her, but she doesn't appear to be trying to hiding anything, or that might just be the way her words are slurring. She either doesn't think of it as an important enough detail to discuss, or has already forgotten about it. Maren just raises her eyebrows in acknowledgment after concluding the same thing I did, leaving the conversation for a time when we can actually talk to her sensibly.

Riley looks at Maren and frowns. "Someone's grumpy."

Maren rolls her eyes. "I'm not."

"You are though." She squints her eyes at her while Maren simply stares back under the scrutiny. "Is it because John is dancing with Joseph?" She asks suddenly.

Maren's eyes widen, not expecting either of us to bring up the 'John thing' until she's ready. And usually, Riley would never tease her about it before it became a comfortable topic. But we've never seen Riley drunk until tonight, and as far as I can tell, her filter is a little non-existent.

"What? Riley, no-"

"Because he'd definitely rather be dancing with you." She interrupts.

At first I think she's rambling innocently, but then she raises an eyebrow as Maren's mouth drifts open a little, and I realize she's deliberately doing this. It makes me want to laugh because if there was one thing Maren was unprepared for tonight, it would be for Riley to purposely make someone uncomfortable. But I'm pretty sure Maren might kill me if I laughed, so I try to keep a straight face.

"I mean you're way prettier than Joseph. By like twenty percent at least." The teasing look grows, the corner of her mouth starting to pull into a smirk. "I don't think you need to worry."

Beside me, Maren is looking at her in absolute shock. Her face is even a bit red as she opens and closes her mouth a couple times, searching for a denial. "I'm not-"

"Look Maren. We all know what's going to happen." She cuts her off. Leaning forward, she rests her elbows on the table and cups her hands around her beer. She sighs like it's a burden to have to explain it. "You and John are going to finally stop being idiots and get together and have children. It's just how it's gonna go."

Riley shrugs, like the matter is out of her hands, but it's clearly an act by the way her smile grows. I don't even realize I'm laughing until Maren looks at me, completely blindsided by this new behaviour. Riley just continues to look at her intently, while she turns a darker shade of red at the latest comment. The situation is so rare that I might actually find some pride within myself for drunk Riley. After all, Maren without a retort is unheard of.

"Oh my God." She finally breaths, looking at me. "We are never getting her drunk again. She's-" she gestures at her and Riley raises her eyebrows as though waiting patiently for an answer. "Look at her, she's... evil."

Riley grins shamelessly and I laugh again, mostly at Maren's -still- wide eyes. "Okay, okay, I'm serious now." Riley's still smiling but it's a million times more gentle now and what I would be expecting of sober Riley, although her words are slurring together so I know she can't be recovered yet. She stretches her arm out on the table with her palm up, opening and closing her fingers until Maren reluctantly takes her hand. "I'm gonna tell you something now, okay?"

"No thanks, I'm good actually." Maren says, eyes darting around. Her face is still red, and I think some part of Riley feels bad, so she squeezes her hand.

"I'm gonna tell you anyway." She whisper-shouts, nodding thoughtfully.

"Shit." Maren mutters under her breath. I chuckle but Riley becomes more serious.

"Look, Maren. You're hot." She says with an amount of solemnness that actually makes Maren snort, probably expecting something better worded. "No. You're hot, and you're a catch. Okay?" She pauses as Maren rolls her eyes, Riley only continuing after she's paying attention again. "Please, trust me when I say that there is not a universe that exists where John Smith would not want to date you."

Maren's mouth drops opens again, but she can't seem to find anything to say. It was actually surprisingly sweet for a drunk reassurance. After a moment she breaths out a laugh. "Jesus R. What are you on?"

"Nothing, it's just-" Riley lets out a heavy sigh, taking her hand back and now looking back and forth between us. "You guys are just really great and I feel like you don't know it and you should. You know?" She seems genuinely downhearted, but I know it's mostly because of the alcohol so it's really more funny than concerning.

"Riley." I say. She focuses on me instead of trying to look between the two of us, although her eyes look a tad too clouded to fully be paying attention to anything. "If we agree with you, will you stop talking?" She nods immediately. "Okay then, we're great and we know it, yay!" I put on my most convincing smile and Maren does a half-hearted version of jazz hands to prove our enthusiasm. Through some miracle, Riley buys it.

She leans back in her chair with a satisfied grin, taking another sip of her beer. Then she seems to remember something and makes a noise, almost spilling her drink as she puts it back down to talk. She points at both of us in turn.

"And by the way, you guys are both like, really good looking, okay?" She says. I don't know if it's just me, but her words sound like they're slurring together more now than they did when she first sat down. "Like, if I were a lesbian, I would totally-"

"And that's enough for you." Maren interrupts. "Mar, take her drink."

"Yup." I quickly reach across the table and take the bottle from her loose grip with little to no resistance.

In fact, she doesn't even put up a fight, just watching as I slide it over to Maren with a small nod. "Yeah. Good call." She admits. Someone calls her name and we all turn to see Stanley, gesturing for her to come out while him and Joseph are swaying together with they're arms around each other's shoulders. Joseph calls for me too but I decline.

When she finally relents after a couple more tries from the guys, John slips out of their grasp and makes his way back over, fanning himself. "Whew, that's a work out." He sighs, dropping down into his seat and pointing at the beer in front of Maren. "You gonna drink that?"

Maren refuses to look at him, probably still thinking about the conversation we had. "It's all yours."

"Sweet." He takes a long sip and sighs dramatically as he finishes, obviously refreshed. "So, what are you guys talking about?"

Maren and I look at each other, and John furrows his eyebrows, even noticing the uncomfortableness while drunk. Maren clears her throat. "Yeah, I'm gonna go to the washroom." She says, nodding. She gets up and leaves as quick as she can manage and John looks at me in confusion.

"What was that about?" He asks. I note that his words are slurring slightly, so if I'm lucky he won't look too deep into anything.

"Yeah, I don't know." I lie with a shrug, searching for a topic of conversation that doesn't involve Maren and what must look like her mysterious disappearance. When he starts eyeing me suspiciously over his beer after a moment, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "So uh, did you see Riley and Stanley making out?"

John coughs up his drink.

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Alrighty, that's it for now. Sorry again for the wait and please let me know what you think of it in the reviews :)