“Totally, and he also thought I was Tria because we look alike from behind, and as previously mentioned, he was trying to boink her.”
“I never saidboink, Gemmy. I was maybe hoping for second base,” Toni said, adding on a, “respectfully,” at the end.
Jude laughed. “Such a douchebag.”
“So he started monologuing about periods and how they’re natural and shouldn’t be taboo, and I backed him up,” Gem said. “And it kind of snowballed from there until we, along with Tria, were the face of a revolution. We lobbied for gender-neutral bathrooms and free period products, and every year, we had Red Week, where everyone free-bled.”
“You had a week of free bleeding in school?” Oliver asked hesitantly.
Gem grimaced. “Technically, no. ’Cause, you know, blood in any circumstance isn’t exactly hygienic. But we made signs and everyone wore red as a statement. We even organized a walk-out one year—though that was becauseTwilight: Breaking Dawncame out and we all wanted to go to the cinema and see it, and we figured that the school couldn’t punish us because we were protesting for women’s rights.
“But that was the only time our movement was abused for personal gain. The rest of the time, it was pure intentions and feminism.” Heaving a big sigh, Gem beamed at Toni. “And that’s how Toni and I became best friends forever. We were brought together by teenage hormones and period blood. It was beautiful.”
“It was,” Toni agreed, a little misty-eyed. “It was the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“You really think that?” Gem said, eyes flooding with tears.
“Of course, I do. You’re my best friend, and I just love you so much,” Toni sniveled.
“Oh my gods, Toni, you’remybest friend and I loveyouso much,” Gem sobbed.
Shoving Jude off his lap, Toni stood and threw himself into Gem’s many arms as they both started to blubber incoherently. Zef took another, longer drink of their wine. Willow simpered, pressing her hands to her chest as her eyes watered. Glyma appeared to have fallen asleep on Quin’s shoulder, and Tad was scowling at Gem and Toni like they had offended her on a personal level. Jude struggled to right himself after being so unceremoniously unseated, and Oliver and Liel were laughing quietly between themselves.
“What is happening?” Bryce asked no one in particular.
“Don’t question it,” Rusty advised as he bit down on the kili fruit in his drink. “At some point, you just gotta go with it.”
“Sound advice,” Zef agreed, and Bryce snorted.
The bar gave a last call, and they all shuffled out into the chilly night. Quin flagged down a taxi and stuffed a semi-conscious Glyma into it before bidding everyone a good night. The rest of the group headed back to Gem’s flat, the only location somewhat within walking distance.
Arms hooked around each other, Gem and Toni led the procession, regaling more tales of their teenage exploits to anyone within earshot. Tad perched on Willow’s shoulder, offering a flask of her home-brewed moonshine to Oliver and Jude as Liel did his best to stop them from drinking it.
“It will probably kill you,” the Gymnot protested as Oliver and Jude argued over who got to take the first drink.
Rusty walked at the edge of their group closest to the road, ensuring no one stepped out into the street as Bryce fell into step beside Zef. “Your friends are wild.”
“They are,” Zef said fondly as Oliver took a sip from Tad’s flask, then proceeded to asphyxiate.
“Oh my god, it burns so bad,” he wheezed. “Jude, don’t do it.”
Jude laughed at Oliver as he took the flask. “Dude, you know I’m gonna do it.” He took a careful drink, spitting out half of it. “Holy shit, Tad, what the fuck is in this?”
“Pure fuel, bitch,” Tad said gleefully, kicking her webbed feet.
Before handing the flask back to Tad, Willow took a hesitant sip, humming in appreciation. “Unique flavor, but I think I like it.”
“That’s because you’re not a weak man like them,” Tad said before taking a huge gulp.
Zef swayed to the left, their shoulder brushing Bryce’s before they course-corrected. “Apologies. I think that third glass of wine is going to my head a bit.”
“Feeling okay?” he asked, a hand hovering near their top arm, as if he was ready to steady them should they trip.
“Yes, a bit, um… What is the word in English? Not inebriated, but on the cusp.”
“Tipsy,” he supplied, and they nodded.
“Yes, tipsy.” They tipped their head back and breathed in, the air freezing in their lungs. “The cold night helps.”
