Page 38 of Scars Like Wings
Quinn groaned. “YouknowI hate shots!”
“Oh, c’mon, Quinny! This is supposed to beyourparty! Youhaveto take a shot!”
“You are such an alcoholic. This being my party is the exact reason I donothave to take a shot.”
“Uh, Quinny?” I spoke up with a teasing smile. “Are we just going to fly by that?”
Quinn groaned again, but Nat’s eyes lit up as she grabbed my elbows. “Please tell me you like shots!”
“Icantake shots, butlikeis a strong word?—”
“I will take it! Will you take shots with me?”
“Sure!” I agreed, unable to deny that smile.
Nat squealed. To Jesse, who had been watching this whole exchange humorously, she said, “Six shots please!”
“Six?!”
“You’re right!” Nat pointed at Quinn, and then she turned back to Jesse. “Let’s make it eight so you can take them with us, baby! Oh, and get these two drinks as a chaser. You know how I like to take my shots.”
“That isnotwhat I meant?—”
“I know Nat loves her tequila naked and warm like a newborn,” Jesse interrupted, prepping my and Quinn’s drinks while laying out eight shot glasses. “But how about you two lovebirds? What will you have?”
“I like vodka,” I answered quickly.
Quinn shook her head and sighed. “I will take bourbon.”
Nat squealed, clapping her hands and jumping. Quinn rolled her eyes, but there was still so much happiness there that she should be smiling. I could tell these two cousins were closer to sisters than anything.
Just like before, Jesse made quick work of our drinks, serving up Quinn’s gin and tonic and my fourth Mezcal Paloma within a minute. They placed our shots next to our cups as well and put Nat’s in front of her. While they were pouring some tequila into their own glasses, I raised my eyebrows over at Nat.
“You take your shots clean like that? And you said girls who liked Mezcal have trauma.”
“Oh, I like this one. She gets it. I have traumaanddrama. I will have to tell you all about it one day. Now, let’s do this.” Nat raised her shot glasses, and Quinn, Jesse, and I did the same. She declared, “To the end of Quinn’s endings and a new beginning with a beautiful sunshine queen to make sure Quinn never sees the dark ever again!”
“God, you are fucking toasted, dude. That was some of the gayest shit I’ve ever heard.”
“Shut up, Quinn Garcia. I love you! Now, drink!” Nat said before tapping her shots on the counter and tossing them back. The rest of us followed suit. Despite opening my throat, I still felt the burn immediately coat my throat on the first shot. It felt like I had added gasoline to the flame with the second. The Mezcal Paloma seemed to stoke it even further, but the smoky, fruity flavor seemed to cool things enough. I started to feel a subtle numbness in my fingers and toes, the kind I felt when drunkenness was encroaching.
“Yay! That was so fun!” Nat clapped again. Quinn shook her head, her delicious curls wafting that citrusy aroma straight into my nose. She gave her cousin a look over my head that, whilecontaining annoyance, also had a measure of affection. It was so cute.
Quinnwas so cute.
Oh, no. I was drunk.
Suddenly, the DJ’s voice came on over the music. His voice reverberated through the mansion’s walls, practically shaking them. “Okay, y’all! It’s about to be cuffin’ season soon, so how about we play the anthem of it with some Queen Bee!” He transitioned to the one and only “CUFF IT” by Beyoncé, and it was my turn to squeal and jump.
“Omg, Ilovethis song! We have to dance to it! Can we please go dance to it together? Please?” I begged Quinn.
Quinn laughed. “Of course we can.”
I downed my drink in three massive sips and put the cup on the bar. I saw Jesse and Nat raise their eyebrows out of the corner of my eye, but I was tunnel-visioned on just one person. I took Quinn’s hand and pulled her behind me onto the dance floor. As soon as we got there, I turned and danced.
Maybe it was the alcohol heating my stomach. Or maybe the girl before me, watching me dance with eyes as rich and shining as a chocolate diamond in the sun, dancing along with me. Or maybe it was Beyoncé singing about wanting to party. But I didn’t feel the same awkwardness in my body I felt before. I felt sexy and empowered, swaying to the beat. I sang the lyrics at the top of my lungs when the DJ cut the music for folks to sing. I felt free. I could feel the music pounding in my chest, but I actually didn’t mind it now. I was caught up in the lyrics and sex appeal that only Queen Yoncé could radiate. It made me bolder, more settled, and definitely more fun. If anyone thought I was off beat, dancing poorly, or singing out of key, I could not care less. All that mattered was in front of me.
Andshewas staring at me with that smoldering look that made the birds in my stomach evolve into full-fledged dragons straight from a romantasy.