"What if we invite Finn over, get him drunk, and make him spill more about the girlfriend I bet is non-existent?" Minho suggests, whispering as we eat a snack after dinner.

"Hm." I tilt my head to the side. "That doesn't sound too bad—"

"Never mind. Finn gets aggressive when he's drunk. That's why he never drinks. He won't ever take a single drop of alcohol."

"Oh," is all I manage. The memories come back to me.

Once we turn eighteen, our families turn less strict with alcohol. I mean, we're allowed to drink when the parents are around once we've turned eighteen. So Finn did that during this time of the year, at the age of eighteen.

Sage and I were fifteen, and Minho was fourteen. Their dad secretly gave us small sips of his drink now and then. We didn't even like it that much, just felt cool drinking alcohol. But it was such a little amount that it didn't affect us in any way.

Finn asked if he could go out with friends. It was almost Christmas and he'd go to a cafe. As long as he didn't drink, Dahlia said, he was allowed to go.

But he did drink. He was absolutely wasted when he came home. I remember very well because a few minutes before he arrived, I argued with Mom. She told me to come home with her and Dad to sleep, but I wanted to stay at the Lee's. Eventually, it was decided I would sleep over at theirs. Everyone went to bed except for Sage, Minho, and I. Dahlia told us to wake her if Finn wasn't back before one AM.

He came back around midnight, stumbling and muttering things we couldn't understand. Soon enough, the smell coming from his proved he was drunk. 

We had been wrapping up last-minute Christmas gifts. Finn stumbled straight on top of the bauble Minho bought that day, and I swear Minho wanted to cry on the spot when the glass shattered. I have some vague memories of him saving up all his money to buy that thing. In the end, Vi helped him pay.

That's also when another one of my seasonal crushes started, wow.

Finn asked what we were doing up so late. Instead of replying, Minho accused him of breaking the bauble.

"What bauble?" Finn had slugged.

"The one I bought for Mom," Minho had replied. Yeah, he was definitely about to cry his eyes out. His voice was shaky and he had to press his lips together.

"We have enough baubles already," Finn snapped back. He motioned at the Christmas tree.

Minho crossed his arms. "It's not the same. I saved all my money up for that one! It had all these little details and—"

With a pout, his older brother walked over to the tree. He took one of the baubles out. "This one has little details, too. Did it cost much? No, it did not. You can just do this," he threw the thing against the wall, "and buy a new one tomorrow."

We stared, with wide open mouths, at the glass on the floor. "Finn," Sage started. "Maybe it's time to go to b—"

"Don't you tell me what to do."

Blah blah blah, lots of talking and arguing, then he pushed her. She fell onto the ground, I jumped up, started talking back to the drunk boy. He tried to push me, too, but his movements became sloppier by the time. Minho and I managed to push him onto the couch, where he passed out.

That was it. Bad but not extremely bad, I guess, but after Finn got told the story, he decided to never drink again, and he hasn't broken that promise.

Worse things have happened when he wasn't drunk. It's been a few months, maybe even years, since, but still. I remember it all. No fun.

And I think right now, Finn's issues with anger are a bit overlooked.

They might've become less worse because he hasn't been very angry the last months, but still.

"Thomasss." Something sticky in my ear, at which I yelp.

A big grin appears on Minho's face as he pulls his finger back. "Anyway, what if we invite Aris over? Get him drunk, make him spill about the whole killer thing?"

Newt shrugs. "Dangerous, Minho. It's all dangerous. What if he remembers?"

"Well, then we'll also invite your sister and my sister so they can help us. Aris clearly likes them better."

"Aris likes me," I say, offended once again.

"Not as much as your girlfriend," Minho points out. "Anyway, yes. We get Aris drunk to get answers out of him, and we get our sisters drunk so... I don't know, we get some gossip. My life is boring."

"It's messed up, that's what it is," Newt corrects. "This whole Evie situation—"

"Hey! It's going well! I might make a move on the next date, man. She is basically asking me to kiss her with her body language."

"No, you're just delusional."

"Oh, yeah? How do you react if Vi keeps reaching for your hand or looks for excuses to hold your whole ass arm? Because Evie does that half of the time, and she smiles a lot at me, and she gets really close. I'm not kidding. There's nothing left of the enemy part."

I share a glance with Newt, shrugging. "He has a point."

"What're you gonna do on your next date anyway?" Newt asks.

"She said she wants to go shopping. You know why? Because she expects I will pay. I mean, I will pay, which will make me poor, but like— you know."

Newt's eyebrows furrow as well as mine. "You're not making any sense. But whatever. Why would you kiss her while shopping? You're supposed to do that at a cute place or something."

"Yeah, I'll bring her to the beach or something."

"What stores are you going to?" I ask, reaching for my glass of coke.

"I don't know. Oh my gosh— what do I do if she enters one of those stores? Do I stand there awkwardly? Judge her clothes— no, I can't judge that, can I?"

Newt shrugs. "Ask the expert."

"Yeah, Thomas, what's the answer?" Minho turns to me.

"What do you mean, 'those' stores? She's not going to take you to a strip club or anything," I reply. These chips are making me thirsty. I take another big gulp of coke.

"No, I mean like lingerie ones. Wait, she obviously won't buy that in front of me. Think more like... I don't know, bathing suits—"

Something goes a bit wrong in my windpipe. I want to say something, but remember I have coke in my mouth, try to swallow that away, but it ends in the wrong pipe, and I start coughing all over the place.

Newt slams my back so hard it hurts. "You okay, mate?"

"Eh, yeah." A few more little coughs follow before I wipe my nose, from which coke has leaked, and eyes, which have began to tear up.

Minho crosses his arms. "Why did my question make you choke?"

"It didn't," I say, maybe a little too fast. "It just went down the wrong pipe."

"Sure, man." Minho leans closer. "You have an inside joke with bathing suits and girlfriends, haven't you?"

"That's ridiculous," I say.

It's ridiculous that this guy seems to know nothing but also everything.

"But what do we say?" Newt asks. "Invite the sisters? No more skinny dipping if they're around."

"They can just look away," Minho says simply.

"Dude, where do you want to skinny dip?" I throw my hands in the air. "In a frozen lake?"

"For example." Minho shrugs, then smiles. "Okay, we invite the sisters and Aris."

"Poor Finn," Newt says.

"He won't give a single shit," Minho assures.

☯︎︎

"You're boring."

I roll my eyes at Minho. "You're crazy."

We're standing in the snow, covered in warm clothes and next to a fire we made. It's quite far away from the hut, so the parents won't find or hear us.

"Last time, you were drinking happily with us. Now you're standing at the side of it all, doing nothing but watching us and taking the tiniest sips of a single beer. Ashamed to be drunk in front of your girl or something?"

"No. But she is drinking, so that means I have to stay sober. And when I drink, she stays sober. It's like an unspoken rule."

I've never seen Viviette drunk. Part of me is scared of how she'll react to it and how she'll feel tomorrow morning. Another part is quite excited to see what she does, as long as it's not peeing in the laundry basket.

"Whatever you say." Minho claps me on the shoulder before he turns back to the fire. Aris is sitting on one of the chairs we brought, staring into the flames. Minho now and then smoothly hands him a strong drink.

It feels wrong to do this, but I've asked Aris if he's really okay with it, and he said it was okay every single time, so we're not doing exactly anything inappropriate.

It took a while to get Sage to drinking. At first, I didn't even agree to the fact of her drinking. Then both of us loosened up. She's now giggling with Sonya or whatever it is they're doing.

There's a tap on my shoulder. I look to my side; it's Newt. He has a cup in his hands. Hat on his head. Scarf around his neck. "Hi."

"Hey. You good?"

"Yeah." He gives a small smile. "Heard a few things at school, though."

"Oh?"

"About Teresa," he murmurs. "That she's contacting you again?"

"Uhm, yes," I say slowly. "Is that... relevant right now?"

"Some say that whenever they see her, she's with Aris."

"Who's 'some'?"

"I heard a few things from Brenda, but Sonya as well. And just random kids who are in for gossip. Some of them say Teresa and Aris have a little thing going on. Others say she wants to make you jealous. Both of them are hard to believe. To me, at least."

"I don't really, like, care," I say slowly. "Teresa's pretty much out of my life."

"I know. Just telling you before anyone else bothers you with it."

I nod at Newt before my eyes move back to the fire. Aris is still sitting there, a new drink in his hands. His eyes glow in a strange way because of the orange flames, almost as if he's thinking about bad things. He's zoned out for a certain.

"Aris, though?" I mutter. "I can't imagine Teresa with him, but at the same time, I can. Get what I mean?"

"Yeah."

We're silent for a while, both of us now staring at the fire. There's something calming about it. The warmth rising from the white blanket of snow. Its colors.

"Do you like someone?" I blurt out.

"Woah, change of subject." Some kind of chuckle leaves Newt. "But no, I guess not."

"You guess?"

"I mean, sure there's like... nice people out there. But not ones I'm very attracted to or anything. Besides, my parents wouldn't allow it."

"Just come live with me," I say. "I swear you should. Sonya, too. No joke."

"If I could, I would. But I don't think I can. If I run away to your house, you'll get troubles on your roof as well. I don't want that."

"We can all run away."

"No. You have a great life. Why would you run away from that? I have a great life besides my parents, too."

I shrug. "Or we all move in together."

"Who's 'all'?"

"You, me, Sage, Minho. Sonya. Whoever else wants to join," I say. "It's a nice idea, isn't it?"

"I guess—"

Newt trails off when Sage begins to approach. She nearly falls over five times before she reaches me, holding onto my shoulders.

"I think I'm drunk," she whispers.

"You think so?"

"Or I'm dying. Everything feels... dizzy and... weird. I'm going to fall over."

I wrap my arms around her. "Now you won't."

"Hey, this is too hot. I can't breathe." She pulls away from me. "Are you warm, too? I'm warm as hell. That fire is too hot."

"I'll take your scarf off. But that's all that will go off, okay? You'll get a cold." Carefully, I unwrap the thing and tie it around my waist instead.

"I dreamed about Greece last night," she announces randomly.

Speaking of Greece, after babysitting, walking dogs, and tutoring kids about math for about two months, I've made enough money to spend eight days in Greece. Our spring break lasts fourteen days, so I think I'll hire the house for eleven days. But I'll keep making money so we can also pay for dinners, et cetera. Oh, and clothes. I will one hundred percent need to pay for that.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Yeah. We stayed in the most luxe hotel possible," she explains. Her eyes have a dreamy look. "And we ate pizza every night. Then my clothes were stolen." Now a pout forms. "You said you'd get me new ones and then you kissed me. And we kissed for a longggg time," she draws out. "Until we fell asleep with our lips pressed together. The birds were already chirping when we fell asleep."

"Ah." I nod. "That's... interesting."

"Then a bird ate Minho," she adds.

"What?" Newt, who at first pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, now immediately turns to her.

"Minho was with us?" I ask.

"Yep," she tries to pop the p, but it doesn't work, and then she spends the next minute trying to make a pop sound.

"Hey, are you laughing at me?" She asks Newt.

He quickly turns the corners of his mouths downwards. "No."

She turns to me, eyes big. "Everyone always laughs at me."

"No one laughs at you, Sage."

"You laugh at me."

"When have I laughed at you?"

"You laugh at everything I do. Secretly."

"But in a good way. I laugh at you in a nice way."

She tilts her head to the side. "Do you?"

"Yes." I smile. "What do you want to do now?"

"Catch the bees."

"I don't think there's bees here. Do you want to sleep?"

"Catch your nose." She makes a movement towards my nose, then shows her empty hand. "Look, I got it."

"Wow. But I don't think I look very nice now. Can I get it back?"

She looks back up at me. "You always look nice." Her bottom lips moves forward. "Don't be insecure."

"I'm not insecure," I say fast, before she starts crying for real; tears have began to rise up in her eyes.

"Okay." Sage perks up. "I'm gonna get another drink. Bye, Thomas!" A kiss on my cheek. "Bye, Newt!" A kiss on his cheek. Then she's off.

A few seconds of silence as what just happened gets through my mind.

"Why are you looking at me like you want to kill me?" Newt asks.

"I'm not looking at you like I want to kill you."

"Reminder, I'm gay. So don't get pissed."

"Thanks."

"Thanking me for being gay?"

"Would've saved my knuckles from getting hurt."

"Wow, Tommy. Wow."

Both of us smile. I take a slow sip of my drink, watching this time not Sage, but Minho approach.

"I can't get a thing out of Aris," he says. "Boy won't spill."

"Well, maybe that means it's not him," Newt responds.

"But Finn was so sure."

"Yeah," I mutter. "Why was Finn so sure? No, better question, why was Finn so sure?"

"That's the same question."

Newt sighs. "Yeah, but don't you notice how he focuses on—"

"My brother is not the killer," Minho says sternly. Confidently, almost.

"Not saying he is. Just thinking out loud."

☯︎︎

"Thomasss," drunk Sage complains as I turn the shower on for her. "Thomasss. Thomasss—"

"Yes?"

She looks at me. Smiles widely. "Nothing," she says.

With a sigh but also a fake smile, I turn back to the shower, turning the right buttons.

"Thomasss?"

This is the fifth time she calls my name just to say 'nothing'.

"Hey, don't ignore me. Why is the shower more important than me?" She asks. The sadness in her voice is there, not even fake.

"It's not. I'm making the shower for you."

Then I turn back to her. Help her up. She's so wobbly on her feet that I give full body support. She'd fall down if I didn't. Then I begin unbuttoning her shirt.

"Hey," she murmurs. "That's harassment. Who are you?"

"I'm your boyfriend." My heart begins pounding every time I get to say that. "But yeah, I should've asked. Can I take your shirt off? We'll leave your undergarments on. It's just a bit of a refreshing shower before you go to bed."

"You're my boyfriend?" she repeats, cupping my face. Her eyes trail all over it. "Wow. How did I do that?"

"You're ten times prettier than I am, trust me," I reply. "Okay, I'm going to take your shoes and pants off now."

"Why... why do I need to shower again?" She slugs.

"Refreshing. Might help with the hangover you're going to get tomorrow— speaking of hangovers, drink this." I fill a glass with water and force it against her mouth until it's all empty.

"I don't want to shower," she says.

I turn the shower off. "Okay. No shower. Then we'll get you dressed in your pajamas—"

"I'm hot." A big pout. "How do I cool down?"

"I'll see what I can—"

"Did you know that..." she trails off.

I raise an eyebrow. "That?"

"I forgot." Sage's eyes wide in panic. "I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't cry." I rush forward the second her lip starts shaking, worried she'll wake people up. "Nothing's wrong. Let's just go to sleep now."

I shouldn't complain about her crying while being drunk, though. I literally kissed her on the lips when I was drunk.

I lie down next to her. The second I do, she rolls over, until she straight on top of me. "That nice?" I ask.

"No," she says.

"Oh. Then why bother lying on me—"

"Shh," she hisses.

"Sorry— ow. Careful there." I move her elbow out of my face. "Does that—"

"Quiet," she snaps.

"Sorry," I whisper again.