The Return of the Skywalkers - Rey Skywalker // Book IV in A Spark of Hope

Chapter Fifty One- Rose.

"I. Am. BORED!" Lyra announces, grabbing her blaster and shooting it up into the sky.

Four days have past since Kylo Ren's wonderful surprise and escape, and literally nothing exciting has been going on.

I will admit, this base is very boring compared to the other one. It has literally nothing to do. There isn't any café, there's no library, and we don't have any top secret hideout places like we used to.

But, we're safe, and I guess that's all that matters.

Currently, Poe is laying on the sand, C.J. is fighting with Kay, Finn and Rey are chatting about something, Lyra has completely lost her mind, and I'm watching Lyra as she loses her mind.

So we're keeping ourselves occupied.

"Lyra!" I exclaim. "Stop shooting at the sky!"

"Rose!" She yells back. "Stop telling me not to shoot at the sky!"

"Ugh!"

"Saying that won't do anything!"

I cover my ears and flop down on the sand, trying to block out the wonderful sound of the blaster.

I swear one day, these people will make me go crazy.

"You know, you're right." I say, sitting up. "But this will."

I stand and walk towards her. Since I'm three inches shorter then her, I stand on my tippy-toes to slap the blaster out of her hands.

"Hey!" She says, watching as I pick the blaster up from the sandy ground. "Not fair."

"It is fair," I state, putting the blaster in my pocket. "because if you keep shooting this thing, you could end up accidentally killing somebody."

She sighs, sitting down on the sand.

"Lyra, are you literally taking your boredom out on the sky?" I ask, sitting next to her.

"The sky had it coming."

"Are you ... never mind." I sigh, looking around. "Poe! What are you doing?"

"I'm making sand-angels." Poe states.

"You're going to get sand in your eye, idiot." Lyra says.

"You're the idiot." Poe replies. "Idiot."

"Stop calling each other idiot, you idiots!" I snap. "Sorry."

"We should get drunk." Poe says.

"What?" C.J. asks.

"You heard me." Poe states. "We should get drunk."

"Poe, are we all even old enough to drink?" I ask. "I'm twenty-two."

"Thirty-two."

"Thirty and a half."

"Twenty-five."

"Probably somewhere around twenty-three, I'd say."

"...Twenty."

"So we're all old enough to drink ... except for Rey." I say. "Sorry. Can't do it."

"She's only one year too young." Poe says. "She's allowed to drink!"

"Luke would probably kill us if we gave her alcohol." Lyra states. "We aren't getting his daughter drunk. So drop it, Poe."

"I've never even tried alcohol." Finn admits. "So I say we don't."

"It's disgusting." C.J. says. "It's gross. You don't want to try it - just like you don't want to try death-sticks."