friday.

3| sand in her hair

"maybe this was a bad idea,"

when they had left 7/11, with bags of snacks, they had made one more stop at friday's friend's house, where she collected a container filled with brownies.

tom didn't know why they needed all these snacks, they just ate, but he didn't complain. he had later found out that she was carrying him to a beach house.

they had pulled up an hour later and it was three in the afternoon. friday unlocked the door and made way for tom to pass with the bags of snacks.

"what're we gonna do?" tom asked as they sat on the floor with the snacks and alcohol, with a bag of plastic shot glasses.

"lemme set up and then imma tell you," she smiled.

he watched as she poured juice, vodka, whiskey &' tequila in a few shot glasses (not mixed). and stuffed a few glasses with pieces of brownies and others with water.

"okay," she clasped her hands together as she began to explain, "its like spin the bottle, and a lil bit of truth or dare,"

tom nodded in understanding.

"the brownies aren't regular brownies. they're weed brownies," she smiled deviously.

"wow, i've never had weed brownies ..."

"damn," friday said, "anyways, if you don't eat or drink anything in the glasses, you have to pick truth of dare, with limited truths. except i'm hella nosy, so it won't matter,"

tom nodded slowly, completely understanding what she said and feeling very nervous as to how this would go down.

"lemme go change, these jeans are constricting," friday stood, "i'll bring you some shorts too,"

when friday had returned in suede shorts and a crop top, with visibly no bra on and her piercing printing, tom had no way to react other than clearing his throat loudly and looking away.

she had thrown him some basketball shorts and pointed him to the bathroom down the hall. when he had returned, they did a round of rock, paper, scissors, to see who'd spin the bottle first, and of course friday had won.

she grinned widely as tom nervously reached for the bottle and spun it. and those were the longest four seconds of his life. the bottle spun and spun and spun, casually passing brownie, vodka, whiskey, water, juice and tequila.

friday squealed as the bottle slowed down, landing precisely on tequila.

"shot ! shot ! shot !" friday chanted and tom quickly downed the tequila, feeling it burn as it slid down his lean throat.

he coughed uncontrollably and friday patted his back in a mocking manner and cooed.

"okay, my turn," friday giggled excitedly.

they both watch cautiously as the bottle spun, landing on juice.

they both groaned loudly, but Friday drank it nonetheless as tom took his chance in spinning the bottle, which of course, landed on alcohol, vodka to be exact.

"i'm not drinking that," he huffed, "truth,"

"one shot of tequila and you're already out, damn,"

"i don't care,"

"okayyyyy, but i don't know what to ask you, cuz i don't know you much," friday placed her hand on her chin

"just, change it to twenty one question and d-dare," tom suggested

"yesssss, you're a genius," she grinned at him, "are you a virgin?"

tom was taken back by her bold question, but he swallowed harshly and shook his head.

"you're not one?!" friday gasped

💊

two hours had passed, and tom had gotten to know friday a bit more. and whilst he thought he knew everything about her, he realized that he truly didn't.

they say out on the sand in front of the beach house. a campfire had been lit and they passed a blunt.

"ya know," friday started as she laid back into the warm sand, way too high and drunk to be bothered about sand going in her hair.

"hmm," tom hummed as he took a drag from the blunt.

he looked at her, the sun was setting and the contrast of it and her skin was ... fuckin' unbelievably beautiful. he watched as she closed her eyes and opened her mouth to speak once again.

"i can sing," she smiled as she looked at him in his eyes and took the blunt.

"sing me something then,"

"okay, what song?" she asked.

"any song,"

she took a quick drag from the blunt before she closed her eyes and started singing drake's 'hold on we're going home' very, very badly.

"broooo, noooo stoppp," tom wheezed as he listened to the wanna be celine dion.

"make me,"

he watched as those words slip from her mouth. the sun had left them a few minutes ago and it was getting dark. the fire cracked softly, and tom realized that this was his opening.

after weeks of admiring her from the sidelines, he could actually be out on the field with her.

so he did what he never thought he'd get the chance to;

he kissed friday garrette on the beach on a fucking tuesday.

he pulled her onto his lap gently and placed his big hands aroumd her waist to keep her still and he kissed her.

things got heated quickly, the weed and alcohol had awaken every nerve in their bodies and every touch burnt their souls. etching the words lust onto them.

friday tugged on his shirt, signaling him to remove it. and when he did, it went straight into the fire.

"oh fuck," he said.

"eek," friday got off of him as she tried to use a twig to pull his shirt out, but it was far too late, "maybe this was a bad idea,"