“Oh, shit, d’you need—” you hiccup, “—need some? I think that—well, ’m pretty sure Oisin’s still got some extra. Y’should’ve seen how much his gramma sent him. When I came by ‘n saw it I was like, woah! Like, tha’s so much! But ’s only a little part’f her hoard, which’s like, sssooooo crazy.”
Adaine smiles at you, then it fades slowly when she looks over at Ivy. “Um, how much has she had to drink?”
Ivy shrugs. “I wasn’t exactly keeping count. I mean, her tolerance has never really been the best, so there’s no point. Like, she gets drunk off a cocktail. Strict parents don’t really let you build on that, y’know?” She looks back to you, and Adaine sees something settle in her expression, though she can’t quite place it. “Either way,” she continues, “you don’t need to worry about her.” Ivy nods over in your direction. “He'd rip someone's throat out before letting anything bad happen to her.”
When Adaine glances back at you, you’re giggling into your cup and half-leaning into Oisin’s side, who’s speaking quietly into your ear, an arm hovering carefully around you as you wobble. Her eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh, wow. I didn’t know that they were…”
“What, together?” Ivy rolls her eyes, giving her a look. “Unfortunately for all of us, they’re not. Apparently they’re—” and she lifts up her hands to gesture quotations, “—‘just close friends.’”
“…And, um… they—you're telling me that they actually believe that?”
Ivy shrugs. “Guess so. I mean, they’ve been doing this whole thing since freshman year—kind of a childhood friendship thing, you know?”
Huh. Adaine blinks. “I didn’t realize they had so much… history. I’ve never really seen them together ‘til tonight.”
