They had only been there a minute when Nyssa emerged from the darkness like a black clad apparition, cupped the back of Sara's head and drew her into a kiss that made Felicity's cheeks flush. When they finally disengaged, Nyssa wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and nodded to Felicity, a lazy grin playing around her swollen lips. "Hey, new girl."
"Is there a point when I stop being the new girl?" Felicity asked.
Nyssa just grinned wider. "Probably when we graduate."
"Doesn't mean we don't love you," Sara said, hooking an arm around Felicity's neck and planting a wet kiss on her cheek.
A boy dressed only in a pair of black silk boxers danced by and pressed a cup of amber liquid into Felicity's hand before disappearing just as quickly as he'd appeared. Nyssa conjured up two more cups for herself and Sara. Then she dragged them both to a log near the outskirts of the clearing. Nyssa glanced at Felicity and winked. "Prime people watching real estate."
They spent the next hour or so sipping their drinks and watching the student population of Pembroke grow more and more debauched as the night wore on. Towards midnight Sara disappeared. When she reappeared a few minutes later she was carrying a wreath woven out of what appeared to be laurel leaves and dotted with some kind of small white flower. "For you," she said, plunking it down on Felicity's head.
Felicity giggled. "Thanks. Don't you want one?"
"There's only two Burns crowns," Sara said, tapping Felicity on the nose. "Whoever's wearing the crown at midnight is the Burns Queen."
"Cool," Felicity said. She felt light, like she was floating. It was the same feeling she'd gotten the few times the kids from her apartment building had all snuck into the complex's drained pool and got drunk on cheap beer beneath the diving board. "Do I get a prize or something?"
Sara grinned. "You could say that." She leaned towards her. "You get to kiss the Burns King."
"Kiss—?"
Sara was dragging Felicity to her feet and pulling her through the crowd towards the bonfire. "Burns Queen coming through," she yelled, elbowing people out of their way to make a path. "Move it, you degenerates."
They came to the center of the clearing. On the other side of the bonfire someone pushed a tall, shadowy figure forward. The boy stumbled into the firelight Felicity felt her stomach drop. The floaty, carefree feeling evaporated. Oliver Queen stood by the fire wearing a laurel wreath on his head, and an agitated look on his face. He glanced back at the group of boys who had just shoved him and gave them the finger.
Someone had turned off the music. The boys stopped laughing. The clearing was quiet. "Do your duty, your majesty, " Sara said, grinning. She gave Felicity a light push.
Felicity and Oliver were alone in the empty space, separated only by a few feet of warm air. Felicity couldn't help noticing that the firelight suited Oliver. It gilded his hair gold, and highlighted the fine architecture of his cheekbones. Then again everything seemed to suit Oliver. Even the stupid wreath on his head just served to make him look more like a Greek statue.
Oliver stepped toward her and Felicity moved to meet him.
"We don't have to have to do this," Oliver said, so low only she could hear him. He looked genuinely apologetic for their predicament. "They stuck it on me before I could stop them."
"Same." Felicity said. She glanced behind her at the restless crowd. "But I don't think they'd be too pleased if we backed out."
Oliver cocked his head to the side. It was the same reaction he'd had when he'd discovered her in the men's bathroom the first time they met, that birdlike movement that seemed too delicate for someone his size.
"Are you a people pleaser, Smoak?" He asked. There was a teasing edge to his voice.
"No," Felicity said. "I'd rather please myself." Her cheeks flushed. "Not like that. Not that there's anything wrong with pleasing yourself. It's actually supposed to be really healthy for you—" she resisted the urge to face palm. "In the future, don't let me drink alcohol. Ever."
The corner of Oliver's mouth twitched. "Noted."
"Kiss already!" someone shouted from the crowd. A titter rippled through the human mass.
Felicity bit her lip. "What happens if we don't do it?"
Oliver shrugged. "It's not so bad. They just throw you in the lake."
Felicity laughed.
Oliver raised an eyebrow.
Her smile faded. "You're not kidding."
"I'm a good swimmer. Are you?"
"I don't think I'd drown," she said. "So I guess that's an option."
She let her eyes flick up to his face. His lips looked soft and slightly wet. Her own felt as dry as the Sahara. She resisted the urge to lick them. He was ridiculously good looking. Who was she kidding? She wanted to kiss him; she wanted to kiss him badly. And now she had the perfect excuse. Her mother's voice echoed through her head. Felicity could practically hear Donna rolling her eyes. Oh god, Felicity, kiss him. You're young, live a little!
"Or we could just do it," Felicity said, before she could change her mind.
Oliver's mouth curved up, a sharp edged hook dragging her in. "That is another option."
Felicity took another small step forward, erasing the remaining distance between them. She could almost feel the heat radiating off him. From this close their height difference was extreme. She had to lift her chin to look him in the eye. "It's just a kiss."
"Just a kiss," he repeated.
"You scared, Queen?"
He was silent. Then— "No. I'm not scared."
"Then just—" She had meant to say kiss me only she didn't get the words out because large, warm hands were gripping the sides of her face and tilting her lips up to meet his. Oliver Queen was kissing her. Not a quick peck but a warm, wet, drawn out kiss. A shiver shot down Felicity's spine as his lips moved over hers. Her hand moved to grip the front of his shirt, seemingly of its own volition. Felicity felt as though the air had been suctioned straight out of her lungs yet she couldn't find it in herself to care because who needed air when they could have this instead. The tiny portion of her brain that had not immediately turned to mush registered that all around them people were cheering.
Felicity had no idea whether hours or mere seconds passed, but all too soon Oliver was pulling away, leaving a pronounced lack of warmth in his wake. She almost reached up to pull him back down only to remember at the last second where they were and that he'd only kissed her because he'd been forced to by a mob of drunken prep students for the sake of some ridiculous tradition. Felicity focused on straightening Sara's dress, her cheeks burning. Around them people were stomping their feet and laughing. Oliver smiled down at her. It was a dangerous smile, glittering and razor edged.
"So what's the verdict, Smoak?" he asked. "Better than the lake?"