Page 74 of Save Your Breath

“No one recognizes me.”

“Told you.”

I smiled even though he couldn’t see it, finagling the straw of my cocktail into the mouth of my mask and taking a long pull.

I immediately grimaced, chills breaking out over my arms. “Ugh! This is disgusting!”

Aleks barked a laugh as he lifted the bottom of his mask to take a sip of his whiskey. “If you were wondering what you missed out on at college parties — here’s your taste of it.”

I was still grimacing even as I took another long pull. With a shiver, I shook my head and then held up the two shots of tequila. “I got these for us.”

“Wow. We really are going for the college experience.”

“I’ve never done shots at a bar before.”

“What?” He laughed. “How the hell is that possible?”

I shrugged. “I was focused on music when everyone else was focused on partying. And then I was going to parties where shots weren’t exactly a thing. It was more like… champagne fountains and expensive bottles of wine.”

“What kind of tequila is it?”

“I don’t know. I just said tequila.”

“Jesus,” he said, shaking his head as he picked up one of the shot glasses. He held it up to me as he lifted his mask and prepared to drink it. “Here’s to not puking on the spot.”

He didn’t give me time to voice my concern over that toast before he clinked his glass against mine and threw the shot back, giving me no choice but to follow suit.

I coughed as soon as I did, nearly gagging as the alcohol burned its way down my esophagus.

“Oh my God,” I hissed, chasing it with my cocktail — which was only marginally better. “That was awful. Why does anyone do that?”

“To get drunk as quickly as possible.”

“It wasterrible,” I said.

But once the burn settled, I felt a swimmy smile on my face, the urge to dance taking over.

So, I grabbed Aleks and hauled him to the bar to do another.

• • •

“Catfish! Catfish! Catfish! Catfish!”

The chants rang out all through the bar as Aleks rubbed my shoulders, both of us eyeing our opponents across the green turf.

“This is it, Strings. One chance. One shot to win the game.”

“Okay, Eminem. Relax.”

“Do you hear that? The crowd going wild? That’s foryou. Sink this, and they’ll go ballistic. Sink this — and wewin.”

A laugh barreled through me. But then I nodded, over and over, rubbing my hands together and bouncing a little on my toes. I’d never been competitive in anything athletic — not a single day in my life.

But apparently, get me drunk, put me in a cat mask, and pair me up with a pro hockey player in a game of lawn pong, and I become a different person.

We had one trash can left to eliminate, and when I picked up the dodgeball, it felt weighted with expectation in my hands. Aleks had just barely missed it on his turn — the ball swirling around the rim before popping out, much to the dismay of our growing admirers and the relief of the two muscle heads we were playing against.

Those beefy guys taunted me now as I stepped up and braced myself to throw, but I tuned them out, focusing instead on the humming buzz flowing through me.