Maybe I was wrong, and thiswasn’tMaya. The real Maya must’ve been snatched by aliens and replaced with a nicer doppelgänger because we never apologized. Not to each other.
It was a core tenet of our relationship. We didn’t dish out what we couldn’t take, and we always took it. We were too competitive not to.
Her unprecedented apology gave me at least twenty points in our invisible scorebook, but my answering quip died on my tongue when she crossed her arms.
It was a defensive gesture, one she rarely used. And when I looked at her,reallylooked at her, I picked up on the little signs that I should’ve noticed earlier—the shadows underneath her eyes, the tense lines carved around her mouth, and the stiffness in her shoulders that, for once, didn’t have anything to do with me. Not entirely, anyway.
The week must’ve taken an even bigger toll on her than she let on, but that was how she was. She suppressed everything and pretended she was okay even when she wasn’t.
“Apology accepted,” I said.
Maya blinked, her surprise evident. She’d probably expected me to give her shit for apologizing, and yeah, that was the first thing that’d crossed my mind. But she was obviously feeling crappy and vulnerable enough without me piling on.
I liked competing with her, not hurting her.
An uncomfortable sensation spread behind my ribcage. It was a slow, creeping pressure, like my chest was shrinking around something I didn’t have the vocabulary—or guts—to name.
I shook off the feeling before it grew legs. “Now that that’s behind us, we can focus on something more fun.” I nodded at the bar. “Do you remember the Five Trials?”
“Of course.” Maya wrinkled her nose. “I haven’t done it in a while, though.”
“Neither have I, but I think it’s time to bring it back.” Our old drinking challenge was guaranteed to obliterate any nagging thoughts—or any thoughts in general. “First person to finish gets bragging rights.”
Her eyes gleamed. She loved nothing more than a challenge. “You’re on.”
Twenty minutes later, we’d assembled what we needed and recruited our friends as witnesses.
Xavier and Sloane found us when we were ordering drinks, and Ayana and Vuk wandered over a little later. The four of them watched us prep with varying degrees of amusement, anticipation, and trepidation.
The Five Trials was a student tradition at our old boarding school. Every senior had to “pass” it in order to unofficially graduate. It consisted of five shots, each containing a different liquor: tequila, vodka, whiskey, rum, and gin, in that order. Thecombo was guaranteed to fuck you up, but that was the point.
Adrenaline streaked through my blood as I lined up the shots.
I hadn’t done this in years, but doing it with Maya? It was almost like old times.
“It’s like I’m at a college frat party.” Sloane gave us a warning look. “If either of you throw up on my Louboutins, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“We won’t,” Maya and I said in unison.
“I’ve never thrown up from alcohol,” she added, side-eyeing me.
“Neither have I.” I’d done lots of shit because of alcohol, but vomiting wasn’t one of them.
Despite our reassurances, Sloane took several steps back while Xavier took on the role of timekeeper. “You guys ready?”
We nodded.
He held up his phone. “Three… two… one… go!”
I snatched the first shot off the counter and downed it in one smooth gulp. I had a head start because Maya despised tequila, but she made up for lost time on the second shot, since I hated pure vodka.
I slammed the glass down, my heart racing. The counter was sticky with spilled alcohol, but I paid no mind to the liquid soaking my shirtsleeve or my friends’ cheers.
There was only one thing on my mind: winning.
I didn’t care that I was on a self-imposed alcohol fast, which I’d already broken, or that I was no longer seventeen and in—
Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered.
