Everest
"Hear that Ever?" Cara trills, her body loose and pliable beneath Mateo's hand as she glances over her shoulder. "More drinks, then dancing." In her mind, this doesn't sound as white-girl wasted as it actually is. In her mind, she's being suave and cool and leaving with Mateo was going to make Ever jealous.
"Is he like this at home?" Cara wonders as she slips an arm around Mateo's waist, hoping that Ever was watching (he wasn't). "He's always so.." Setting her face into a stern stare and then walking with blocky, rigid steps, she relaxes before raising a brow in Mateo's direction. "..y'know?"
Back at the table, Ever has added more strokes to the alcohol count in his notebook. After doing a bit of mental math, he judges that with Mateo's dancing helping to metabolize some of what's in his system, that if he can get his friend to eat a few snacks and have a glass of water, the night should be able to carry along smoothly.
"Is he like this at home?" Cara wonders as she slips an arm around Mateo's waist, hoping that Ever was watching (he wasn't). "He's always so.." Setting her face into a stern stare and then walking with blocky, rigid steps, she relaxes before raising a brow in Mateo's direction. "..y'know?"
Back at the table, Ever has added more strokes to the alcohol count in his notebook. After doing a bit of mental math, he judges that with Mateo's dancing helping to metabolize some of what's in his system, that if he can get his friend to eat a few snacks and have a glass of water, the night should be able to carry along smoothly.
I was a dead man walking,
with bloodshot eyes—right place, wrong time.
with bloodshot eyes—right place, wrong time.
