Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
“Is alchemy my one true calling?” She wags her brows.
“Depends,” Vada pops a corn chip into her mouth. She sits on the marble counter next to the sink, her long sandy brown hair tucked behind each ear. It almost looks blonde in the light. “What kind of a potion is it?”
“A love potion?” Audrey asks, heading to the pantry.
I sniff the overly sweet punch. “Definitely more like a death potion. And ew, what’s floating in it?”
“Skittles,” Vada says like it’s a normal ingredient. “Nona brought them.”
“Are Skittles vegan?” Audrey wonders, returning with a bowl of pretzels.
“These ones are,” Winona says, switching the ladle to her other hand. “And drinking this won’t cause death. I am a peaceful plankton in the sea.”
Vada throws a corn chip at her. “Lies.”
“You have claws and pinchers,” I remind Nona.
“She’s of the lobster family,” Audrey chimes in.
“Crab,” I state.
“Crabs are so cute,” Vada says into a bite of chip.
Winona stirs with both hands. “Okay, maybe I’m more crab.”
“A cute crab,” Audrey corrects.
“Definitely,” I nod.
Winona smiles and then ladles the punch into a plastic cup. “How much do you want, babe?” She asks Audrey first, the birthday girl.
“To the very brim,” Audrey grins, her excitement palpable.
She spoons a full cup for Audrey and passes it over. Audrey waits to take a sip, but she cups the punch like hot chocolate warming her palms.
Vada holds out her cup while Winona ladles punch into it. I’ll have to update my video diary later and describe my best friends’ fits. I take a mental note of Vada’s: a black corduroy skirt, dark tights, high-top Converses, and one item throws off the whole look—a Juicy Couture rhinestone long-sleeve shirt. She insisted on buying it the last time we went thrifting. It’s vintage, she said. To which all three of us told her, not all vintage is good vintage.
Mainly we were at the thrift store to spy on my sister and her friends, Tom and Eliot (Audrey’s brothers). We thought we’d catch them out in the wild doing “chaotic” things, but they were kinda boring. My sister tried on a lot of hats while Tom talked nonstop about the song he was working on for his band. The only action was when Eliot flirted for point-five seconds with this tall gorgeous brunette, and unfortunately, she succumbed way too easily to his game—if it can even be called that.
Shopping together turned out to be more fun than snooping, and Vada got her “vintage” shirt out of the trip. I appreciate that she receives our fashion advice and then ditches it in the garbage to just do what she wants. It’s kind of badass.
Winona waits to fill a third cup and looks to me. “You want to taste test first, babe, or none for you?” I figure she won’t drink at all, so I’m not scared to forgo alcohol and feel like the loner, sober one.
I think for a second. I’ve had a sip of wine in Italy at my brother’s wedding, but besides that, I really haven’t had alcohol before.
In fact—we’re all kind of new to drinking.
Vada goes for it and takes a large gulp first. “Tastes like fruit punch.” She crunches on a Skittle.
“There you have it,” Winona says, pointing her ladle at Vada. “It’s an elixir of life!”
“I’ll get back to you in an hour.” Vada smiles, the gap between her teeth noticeable. It’s an endearing quality (and anyone who says otherwise will be throat punched by me and Nona).
“You’re not drinking, oui?” Audrey asks Winona.
“Yeah, none for me. I’m the potion stirrer, so hey, I’m kind of a part of the process, even if I can’t drink it.” She shrugs.
Vada and Audrey echo that she’s one-hundred percent involved, and as Winona waits for my decision on a taste-test, a cup, or to forgo the punch altogether, we meet each other’s gazes with a bit more weighted understanding.
Our dads.
Alcoholism.
Everyone in my family has made different choices concerning alcohol. Moffy obviously doesn’t drink unless his drink is accidentally spiked. Luna does drink. Xander’s pretty indifferent. And Sullivan didn’t try alcohol until she hit her twenties.
Where do I fall?
I feel like I can handle anything. I want to be able to handle anything. Like if I had some sort of dependence, I could glare at it and it’d run away scared. But my dad can send the meanest, harshest death glares at his enemies, and yet, he still has a kryptonite.
So maybe I just don’t touch the stuff.
But Luna drinks.
And I can’t imagine Luna being stronger than me. I love her, okay. But…I can’t be seen as the weak one in comparison. And if she can handle drinking and I can’t—what does that make me?
Winona sees my indecision. “We can watch out for the Birthday Girl together.”
But I can still look out for Audrey and Vada while drinking, can’t I?