Grape Field

Chapter 11. All eyes on the dance floor. Part 1

Enclosed by darkness, with music blasting through the doors wide open, this house looked nothing like the one I had seen before. Sure, the walls and those giant floor-to-ceiling windows stayed the same, but the ambience surrounding the place felt different, contrasting with the usual quietude and solidity.

As soon as we entered the house, the heavy smoke, mixed with the scent of alcohol and various fragrances, entered my nose, too. The room was covered with a light haze, and some random guy bumping into me and almost spilling his drink fixed my mind on getting drunk myself, since staying sober sounded like an unbearable experience. How did Zeke approve of this?

Luckily, the kitchen was the first place where Sasha headed, dragging along Mikasa and me. There, beyond the pizza boxes and liquor bottles, which I eyed for later, stood the hosts themselves. Leaning on a counter in his white and red jersey, Zeke actually looked like a coach. It suited him so naturally that I couldn't picture him as anything else now—in no way could he be a professor; that was set.

His brother, on the other hand, had changed out of his uniform and bore no resemblance to the star player who had hit the home run a couple of hours prior. Apart, maybe, from his muscled arms that were crossed over his chest, fully exposed with the kind of sleeveless shirt he was wearing. Our eyes met for a split second, and he gave me his usual blunt frown.

With Mikasa finding her place near Eren and Sasha settling by the cupboards, I realized the need to focus my attention elsewhere to avoid being entangled in anything related to the bratty brunet.

"Hey, Zeke!" I greeted the man, coming closer.

"Ah, the rockstar. Haven't seen you in a while." He took a drag on his cigarette as I stopped in front of him, leaning against the table and shaking my head at the nickname.

"Good game; congrats! I didn't know you were a coach, though."

"Well, you raised me to a professor. Thought I'd let you think that. Maybe then I'll finally have someone's respect." He chuckled, flicking his gaze at his brother.

"Yeah, but now that I know the truth—no respect for you anymore, Zeke. Sorry." I sent him a sympathetic look, and, turning at Mikasa's snickering, caught sight of Eren's lips curling up a little too.

The abrupt, rattling noise drew everyone's attention to the fridge, where Sasha, crouching down with her head deep into the refrigerator, was making some rearrangement, producing a clinking sound that echoed through the kitchen.

"What're you looking for?" Eren asked, knitting his brows. "There's a whole ton of pizza and snacks here. Is it already not enough for you?"

"This!" She pulled out a can of fruit cider, holding it like a trophy, and a huge smile adorned her face.

My eyes immediately recognized the thing. Perhaps the evening wasn't going to be that bad. Peeking from behind Sasha's shoulder, I scanned the contents of the fridge myself, making sure it was not a random finding. "No way! You have blueberry ones?" I stared at Zeke, eyes wide. "That's some serious level of hosting! I thought they were discontinued." I grabbed a can and popped it open.

"Anything for you," said Zeke, earning a scoff from Eren.

"Who needs blueberry when you have pineapple?" Sasha scorned the drink in my hand, clutching hers to her cheek.

A soft chuckle escaped Mikasa's lips as she shook her head. "I doubt that a bunch of college kids at the party will care too much about the flavor. So if you like it"—she fixed her eyes on me—"I'd grab a couple, just in case."

I flicked my gaze from Mikasa to the still-open fridge, pondering whether to follow her advice. But carrying around an extra can of cider would be a bother. And I would totally look like some crackhead with two drinks in each hand. So, for now, I settled on just one, shamelessly praying for blueberry cans to wait for me whenever their time came.