Forever Could Be Ours

Chapter 01. | Something New

HAYLEIGH

"Matty I can't–" I shake my head when the second shot is served. "If I take another my stomach will flip."

Matty's emerald eyes flash with disbelief, his thumb brushing the corner of his lip to remove the powder. Our trey of shots is nearly empty and he lowly growls after drinking another one.

"Hayleigh, you're the reason we're in this pity."

"Excuse me?" I scoff loudly over the vibrating bass from the music, a flash of hurt spreading across my face. While he isn't entirely incorrect, I didn't initiate playing beer pong against Drama.

Who challenges a third-time ping-pong champion winner and a handball player at a game of beer pong?

Matthew motherfucking McGarry.

I suck in a deep breath and try to ignore the feeling of my inner organs screaming for help when I drown the second shot. "You challenged Leilani well aware we suck as a pair." 

My vision blurs for a second and I reach for his bicep in support. I only feel slightly tipsy but the world flips upside down each time I taste vodka on my tongue.

"A Saint Bernard has better odds of hitting a cup than you."

My eyes widen, "Now you're just being cruel. At least I hit a cup. What did you do? Besides drooling at Leilani's cleavage?"

A cheesy smirk spreads on Matty's face and his thumb brushes over my bottom lip, "You can't judge me for looking. At least I didn't get too cocky and decided to add shots for punishment? Well knowingly the both of us suck?"

Okay fine. Truth be told we're both to be blamed.

Who lets her confidence and cockiness get the best of her after hitting one cup?

Hayleigh motherfucking Blakely.

Sometimes I tend to get overly excited about my performance skills. I should have known that playing against Leilani and her friend from Drama would offer a trey of humiliation.

We lost after five rounds. Five freaking rounds. It would have been less embarrassing running down the block in our underwear while singing our favorite Little Mix song. 

I should have known joining the "Last Blast End of Sommer Holidays" party would be a mistake. Just the title is enough to decline. Every party at Jake Ross's house ends in violent commotions, puke, and someone passing out on a sunbed at his pool.

Matty begged me to join, claiming that I couldn't spend the night binge-watching The Vampire Dairies. I beg to differ.

My eyes could stare at Ian Somerhalder for an entire evening without blinking. Anyone saying they don't fall for his charismatic features and crystal blue eyes lies through their teeth. But instead of being tucked under my blanket watching season three I stand in utter chaos with a best friend who rarely touches alcohol.

Let me empathize on rarely, because his pupils look like black holes, his eyes trying to focus on the last shot in his hand. Matty rarely gets drunk and when he does, his balance turns to gelatine. 

"New strategy," He holds his knuckles in front of his mouth for a brief moment, sucking in a deep breath. "I'll take a short trip to the fancy porcelain, you'll shut your mouth throughout the game and I'll prove I'm a previous pitcher."

"You've never played baseball before."

He wraps a secure arm around my shoulder. "We both know if I had I'd be on the national team."