Page 19 of Ruthless Chaos

Instead, she just asks for our order.

Tara orders us two vodka limes, and the lady makes them quickly. Tara takes one and hands me the other. I take it with shaky fingers, a bit of it sloshing over the rim.

When we’ve moved away from the bar, I ask, “What’s the drinking age here?”

Tara’s already taken a big gulp of her drink. She laughs and looks at me with wide eyes. “Hell if I know, girl!” A wide, sudden smile fills her features. “All I know, this shit is good.”

I look down at the drink in my hands. It looks like lemonade. There’s even a lime wedge on the rim. Tara prods me on the shoulder then raises the glass so it’s closer to my lips.

“Taste it. Tell me what you think.”

Raising the glass to my lips, I take a swig.

It’s sweet at first, then burns going down and gets hotter when it hits my chest. There’s a dull warmth on my tongue and a bitter aftertaste.

I try—and fail—not to grimace. “It’s…different.”

Tara seems pleased that I don’t like it. “Not a vodka person? It gets better the more you drink it. You’ll be begging for another by the end of this one.”

She dances while she takes another gulp.

Looking around, all I see are bodies bopping to the beat, enjoying the moment.

Every day after I got my Harvard acceptance letter, I fantasized about what college would be like. Even though I dreamed of parties, I never imagined them like this.

Maybe this drink will help me enjoy the party better. From a purely biological standpoint, alcohol is supposed to relax you. Who am I to fight with biology? A little relaxation would do me some good.

I take a big gulp of my drink, and it thrills Tara.

“That’s the spirit!” she cheers.

Her praise emboldens me, and I take another gulp right after.

The third gulp isn’t as bad as the first. It’s smooth going down and doesn’t burn anymore. If anything, it feels like a hug from the inside, a happy warm hug.

I kind of like it. I see why other people do too.

The warmth loosens my limbs, and even though I don’t know the song, my body likes the beat. Tara pulls me closer to the thickest part of the crowd, and we both start to dance. I don’t know if I’m on beat, but it hardly feels like it matters.

The bass slides over my skin, and the rhythm is irresistible. The heels don’t even hurt that much anymore. The world has fewer edges, and I’m floating away on a cloud of euphoria.

Time seems to disappear.

When Tara’s hand on my shoulder pulls me out of my trance; I’m out of breath.

“I just saw my professor,” she says over the din of the music. There’s sweat beading on her brow, and her makeup looks a little dewy. “I’m going to go ask him about the syllabus for his course.”

I bop my head. “Okay, I’ll be here!” I shout back.

Tara disappears into the thicket of bouncing bodies, and I suddenly feel empty.

The moment of happiness has slipped through my fingers. The cup in my hand has a little bit left in it, and I drain it while I move closer to the edge of the crowd.

This section of the party is unfamiliar.

It’s still close to the edge of the forest, but the bar I went to earlier is on the other side of the crowd now. The haphazard shoreline makes things a little confusing.

Now I’m alone, I guess I could get another drink and see where it takes me. I like that the alcohol has quieted the din in my head—the anxious thoughts about my life and my fears about the future are gone.