Instead of doing the right thing and unblocking everyone's numbers and finally reopening the lines of communication, Miguel announced he wanted to hit a nightclub. Hawk seemed to think he was joking, which was fair, that wasn't his usual type of scene. But when Miguel repeated himself, a big grin lit up Hawk's face, and they immediately checked their phones for the nearest club.

So that was how Miguel found himself swaying to the music on a dance floor that night, trying to lose himself not just to the beat of the eclectic tunes playing but also to all his problems in general, if only for a few hours. He was on vacation, after all. He was going to be in the shit when he got home no matter what. Everyone probably already hated him, so why not try to have some fun while he still could?

And he was having fun. It was great letting loose around people they both knew they would never run into again. So they could dance like a couple of idiots without worry, making complete fools of themselves and they understood it didn't matter because they had no reputations here.

So Miguel didn't think anything of snapping a million pictures of them together, of wearing the ridiculous glow-in-the-dark bracelets Hawk procured for them off some ravers, or even of taking a video of Hawk dancing horribly to some Mexican rock music and jokingly threatening to post it on Instagram. Eli had repaid the favor by volunteering Miguel for karaoke, which ended about as well as the two of them expected.

But Miguel didn't care. He and Hawk continued to have a wild night. They danced until they were exhausted, and then Miguel gestured them to a nearby table and booth to sit down and rest for a bit.

"Man, this was such a great idea," said Hawk. "You should make impulsive decisions more often."

Laughing, Miguel wiped the sweat from his head with a cocktail napkin. "Oh, you mean besides taking a bus down to Mexico?"

"No, no, no, don't start down that path, you'll just start feeling guilty again," Hawk warned him, wrapping an encouraging arm around his shoulders. "Come on, keep up the positive vibes. Live in the moment, my friend. Like, right now, think of something else you always wanted to do. Anything. Just say the first thing that comes to mind."

Miguel knitted his brows together in thought for a moment. "Hey, y'know what, we've been in Mexico for how many weeks now? We should try tequila at least once."

Eli's grin widened, and the hand wrapped over his shoulder patted it. "Say no more, dude, wait here a sec!" He took off past the other tables in the direction of the bar, and Miguel waited patiently at the booth until he returned ten minutes later. "Alright, tonight we become men," Hawk announced, setting down two tequila-filled shot glasses and some slices of lime.

They'd both seen it done in movies enough times to know the basics of how to take a tequila shot. So they moistened the backs of their hands, applied some salt from the table's shaker, and then clanked their glasses together in a toast. "Cheers!" said Miguel.

He and Hawk both licked the salt and then downed the alcohol without hesitation in one gulp. It dropped like a firebomb. And the sourness from sucking on the lime wedge didn't help it go down any easier.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Miguel, thumping his chest with a harsh cough. Well, at least he could knock that one off the bucket list.

Sitting across from him, Hawk's eyes were wide from shock, too, even as he chuckled. "Wow, that'll put some hair on our chests alright. Heh, you think Sensei Lawrence ever puts down shots like these?"

"No way," Miguel declared, fiddling with his shot glass, still waiting for the burn in his chest to subside. "I don't think he drinks much besides beer. And, to be honest, I wish he'd knock that habit."

Hawk raised an eyebrow. "I think Sensei Lawrence would sooner go vegan than go to an AA meeting. But what else is new?"

"Yeah." Miguel rolled the shot glass around with his finger, wondering if he should confess that if there was one thing he hoped would change with Sensei Lawrence dating his mother, it would be that he got help for his alcoholism. But that hadn't happened.

"Well, at least this dance has turned out much better than our sophomore Halloween one, right?" joked Hawk.

Miguel nodded, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah, not to mention junior prom. God, that was—"

"Hold up, if we're gonna be talking about prom, I'm gonna need another shot," proclaimed Hawk, gathering their shot glasses and rushing back to the bartender.

Miguel snorted at his response. Fair enough. He had no complaints when his friend returned carrying two fresh glasses and just reapplied some salt to the back of his hand. "Bottoms up," he said, clanking his shot glass against Eli's again before licking off the salt and downing the tequila in one gulp, following it up with a suck on the lime wedge.

"Prom fucking sucked," Hawk declared, slamming his shot glass back down. "If I could never think about that night again, I'll die happy. Another couple shots of these and maybe I'll forget about it entirely."

Licking the residual lime juice off his lips, Miguel asked, "Not a good night for you either, huh?" He racked his now alcohol-stunned brain trying to remember if he had ever seen Eli at the junior prom. He'd been so caught up in trying to have the perfect night with Sam, only to have it ruined by Robby and Tory's arrival, that he hadn't noticed whether or not Hawk had been around.

"I didn't want to go at all but Demetri talked me into going stag with him," explained Hawk. "I thought we were going to end up hanging around the punch bowl all evening, just like old times. But then Yasmine showed up, she flew back from Australia early, so Demetri bailed and hung out with her. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't mad at him, I'm not a cockblocker. At least one of us should've had a fun time. But is there anything more pathetic than going to prom alone?"

"Well, what about Moon?" asked Miguel. "I saw her there. Why didn't you ask her to dance?" He winced as soon as the question left his mouth, hating himself for asking it. It didn't take a genius to figure out why Eli's confidence at the time had taken a dive.

Hawk gave him a long sideways glance before his eyes fell to the table. "I wanted to but…." He paused, shaking his head, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "I dunno, I wussed out. Then I thought about talking to her at the afterparty, but I guess she didn't go. Oh well, it was probably for the best. The night ended on complete shit anyway after I ran into Kyler."

Frowning at the mention of that name, Miguel asked, "What happened?"

Hawk fidgeted with his fingers on the table. "Since Demetri and Yasmine were busy making out around Stingray's house, I went to the bathroom to decide whether I should just leave, and when I came back out Kyler was standing right there. And I, well, I kinda jumped. It was just a reflex, y'know? But Kyler laughed, he said next time they should cut my dick off instead, that way I'd be a total pussy."

Miguel huffed, clenching his jaw. "Fucking Kyler…."

"I knew he was just talking shit, but for a second I thought…." Hawk paused again, eyes falling down to the shot glasses on the table. After another beat, he glanced up at Miguel and asked, "Hey, you want another round?"

It sounded like Eli really was intent on drinking away all memories of that night. But while the idea tempted Miguel, too, he knew drowning problems in booze wasn't the correct solution. Otherwise, they'd end up in the same position he'd found Sensei Lawrence after the junior prom that night, sprawled out shitfaced on the floor.

"Nah, if we do another, I don't think we'll be walking out of here," said Miguel. "Sorry your prom night sucked, though."

Hawk leaned back in his seat. "Yours wasn't any better?"

Miguel sighed, sinking into the booth with him, crossing his arms over his chest. "I let Robby get under my skin."

"Yeah, I saw him and Tory on the dance floor."

"Things got even worse at the afterparty," explained Miguel. "Sam and Tory ran into each other, and Sam started a fight with her. I tried breaking them up, but then Robby butted in and, well, long story short, it ended with me and Sam getting thrown into the pool in front of everybody. It was so humiliating."

Hawk gave him a consolatory pat on his knee. "I think you win for worst night."

"Heh, it's not a competition." Miguel let out a humorless chuckle, and his eyes came down to stare at the empty glasses on the table, just like Hawk's had, like those glasses really did hold the answer to all their problems. He focused so hard on them as that night flashed fresh in his memory, he could barely even hear the music playing in the background anymore. "But before he did that, Robby told me the only reason Sensei Lawrence cares about me is because he's trying to feel better about screwing up with him."

"That's bullshit!" Hawk scoffed. "C'mon, you don't really believe that, do you?"

"Well, there's one more thing," said Miguel, picking at the table with his fingernail. His gut was starting to rumble, and he knew he should've taken that as a sign to stop, but the two shots of tequila kept his words flowing. "When I got back to the apartments that night, I went to go talk to Sensei. But he must've had a hard night, too, because he was drunk, and I mean really drunk. I helped him get into bed and he starts telling me he really wants to be a father to me, that he wants to be there for me. I was worried maybe I'd made him feel bad with how weird things had gotten when he and mom started dating. I wanted him to still be my sensei, but hearing him say those things, I started to think about him being my dad. I know he was trying so hard and so I…I told him I loved him." Miguel paused to swallow something thick in his throat. "…And do you know what he said?"

"What?" asked Hawk, who had sat silently listening to the whole thing without interruption.

Miguel sucked in his bottom lip for a moment, trying to get it to stop trembling, but he couldn't hold back a loud sniff as his nose started running. "He-He said, 'I love you, too, Robby.'"

For a moment Miguel was worried Hawk would show the same irritation towards Sensei Lawrence he had when he'd told him about when Sensei pressured him to fight through his back injury in the semifinals. And it wasn't anger that had Miguel feeling like he wanted to throw up right now. It wasn't vexation at Sensei that had his eyes tearing up.

But Hawk stared at him with his shocked expression, mouth hanging open numbly like he didn't even know what to say. What could he say? Miguel knew Hawk didn't have the same sort of relationship with Sensei Lawrence that he did, and he already had a father in his life who was around, who cared, so it would've been hard for Eli to put himself in his shoes. But his friend did snake his arm back around his shoulders, returning the affection Miguel had shown him that day on the beach when he tugged him close, rubbing his hand up and down his upper arm.

Miguel leaned into him, accepting the invitation for comfort, sniffing hard and swallowing thickly again. Letting out a shaky breath, he mumbled, "Maybe another round of tequila shots isn't such a bad idea."