The Tortoise and His Sunrise | ✓

7. Bar

Forget pink guava juice—mocktails were officially my favorite drinks now.

Having drained almost half the glass in one sitting, I set down my virgin mojito on the black countertop. Nolan's arm draped over my shoulders was warm and comfy.

"It's so good," I gushed. "Bonus points for being non-alcoholic."

I'd actually tried alcohol before under Ryan's supervision, but I personally detested the aftertaste. It wasn't for me, and that suited me just fine especially since I still wasn't twenty-one yet.

I looked around the bar we were in, letting my eyes roam over the horde of students that the place was packed with. The dim lighting cast shadows all over the place, obscuring the faces of most people.

"What's in it?" he asked.

"Lime, mint and soda, I think. I wish you could try it—" I clapped a hand over my mouth. "Sorry, no that came out wrong—"

"I can," he said.

That got me to goggle at him.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I can try it."

As he reached for my drink, I grabbed onto his hand.

"I don't want you to get sick," I whispered with a frown.

"It's fine if it's just a little sip. It's like eating mints. The amount is so tiny it doesn't get a chance to upset my stomach."

"But I've never seen you drink anything besides water."

He gave me a wry smile. "Like I said, it can only be a bit. I'm not going to buy something just to drink less than one percent of it."

That did make sense. I relinquished my hold on his hand.

"Okay, then I guess it's fine if you try some of mine."

After he took a small sip, Nolan nodded. "It's good. I like the touch of mint to it. What else did you want to try?"

I pulled my phone out. "Let's see. What should I order next?"

Nolan looked over my shoulder at the list of mocktails I'd wanted to try.

He pointed to one. "What's this?"

"Virgin Paloma? It's supposed to be made with grapefruit juice, so I thought it sounded interesting." I scrolled down the list. "I pasted the recipe here, look."

The speed in which he made a face brought a chuckle out of me. "Won't that be sour and bitter?"

"Hey, this drink has lime, which is also sour. But you thought it was nice."

"Yeah, but it's mixed with other flavors and it's not bitter."

"This isn't supposed to be pure grapefruit juice either. It's probably going to be sweet in some way." His reaction was surprising enough for me to ask, "You don't like sour stuff, then?"

"No," he said after a short pause. "I like—I liked sweet stuff better."

"You can still like sweet stuff better," I said softly.

"Just can't eat it."

The nonchalance in his tone felt contrived.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

I squinted at his face. Under the dim lighting, I couldn't decipher anything beyond a neutral expression.

"I don't know; just thought—never mind."

After downing another quarter of my virgin mojito, I rested my chin in my hands. We were here tonight for a 'normal' date, but of course I was the only one drinking something. I wasn't sure if I hadn't made the wrong choice asking to come here.