Tightrope

Eleven Bottles of Vodka

"I bought eleven bottles of vodka."

I stared at Daria with disbelief, and she guiltily dropped the stash on the kitchen counter. Seven 1.25L bottles of grog clinked together metallically as they settled. Daria's expression was equal parts gleeful and concerned.

"Are we trying to roofie an elephant?" I asked.

Daria shook her head, eyes shining. "The guy at the bottle shop looked very concerned, and my bank account kind of hates me. But I think I'm going to get absolutely smashed, and I want to bring everyone down with me."

I gaped at her. "I admire the shit out of that."

As one of the legal folk, Daria was always the resident supplier of drinks. And Chance, but buying alcohol for minors, such as myself, gave him hives, so we'd passed the baton onto Daria. You would think she was similarly hamstrung by morality, but her desire to appease the crowds outran her need to follow the rules. Plus, it technically wasn't illegal on private property, so a loophole sufficed for her moral obligations.

She pointed at me. "This is your present, by the way. I cleaned the account completely, and can't afford as much as a sticker book."

I held up my hands. "Girl, you have far surpassed anything the others would get me. I love you."

Daria was already unscrewing the first bottle. I loved it. Taking a quick swig straight from the bottle, in an action that made me even more obsessed with her, she held it up in a toast. "I love you more! Now where is the party, babes?"

"I think you are the party," I said, laughing. "But the others are in the back. Let's go, my wild girl."

She smiled at me with a childish innocence, sipping at her big bottle of vodka tentatively. I led her, and the giant bottle of vodka that screamed liver poisoning, into the second lounge. The rest of the invited guests were gathered; the regular school group, with McKenna, Holland, and Tommy DeRiva chatting amicably in the corner. Liv and Austin were setting up a table of jello shots, and my cousins Alec and Harry were carrying trays of food out. Kaelin had invited her boyfriend, Julian, one of the most gorgeous men I'd ever laid eyes on. And most unnotably, Jace was relaxing on the couch, talking animatedly to Callie.

Since my date last night, I hadn't been able to exorcise Jace from my mind. Which entirely defeated the purpose of why I'd gone on the date with asshole-of-the-year Tommy Aster in the first place. Knight's statement, Jace would never, rang uncomfortably true. And I kind of hated myself for the way my stomach flipped at the sight of him.

Especially since he was sitting with Callie, and he'd gone on a date with Callie last night, and I had no idea how I felt about it. I should feel nothing. Why didn't I feel nothing?

"Hello, partay people!" Daria yelled from behind me, holding her bottle in the air.

There was a series of whooping cheers and fist bumps from the rest of the gathered crowd. Daria ran and jumped straight onto Jace's lap, immediately raising the bottle to her lips and sculling a good portion of it. It did not appear that anyone else had started drinking yet.

It was in moments like this that I was reminded why Daria had always been so popular. Despite her innocence and overly kind nature—generally suited to being well liked, but not necessarily popular in the traditional, stereotypical sense—she was fun. Daria, contrary to expectations, could be wild.

Jace was smiling down at her, and she tipped the bottle near his mouth to encourage him to take a gulp. He complied. How could anyone say no to Daria?

"Hey, Lena," said Jace, from the other side of the room. I walked over and waved slightly. "How was your date?"

"It was fine," I said, lightly.