VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 97

[POV: Narrator]

Andi had insisted she'd get the drinks.

No argument. No delegation.

And now she was at the bar, swaying a little in her heels like the floor was made of jelly. One arm was propped on the counter for balance, and was trying, as best she could, to get the bartender's attention without shouting. She hated when people did that.

The lights above her flickered blue, then purple, then pink. She wondered briefly if she'd look good with blue hair. She decided yes. And then forgot her order when the bartender finally picker her next.

She ended up with something rather unhinged — two cocktails rimmed in neon orange sugar with crushed ice, sparkly straws, three kinds of alcohol, and— the return of little umbrellas!

"Okay," she muttered to herself, carefully taking both glasses in her hands. "Do not spill. Do not spill. Do not spill."

She took her time through the crowd, brows pulled in concentration, dodging elbows and heels and someone who almost stepped backwards into her. She stuck her tongue out behind their back.

Across the way, Lando and Carlos, much like vultures, had already claimed a corner booth; Carlos with one arm stretched over the velvet backrest while Lando warded off two girls trying to sit on the edge of their table with increasingly ridiculous lies about each having girlfriends. Oscar sat with them, quieter, more contained, like the last vulture who didn't really want the kill but didn't know where else to be.

Then, as if summoned, Max appeared at the edge of the booth with a tray full of tequila shots. Not six or eight. A tray-full.

He grinned. "So I've done something stupid."

Lando perked up instantly, hands on the table. "Yes. Good."

Max set the tray down. "I definitely only remember saying ten."

Just as he began precisely arranging the shot glasses, Lando clocked Andi approaching with both cocktails in hand.

"She's upright," he said. "This is already a win."

She arrived at the table with the drinks still somehow intact.

"Look!" she beamed, placing one in front of Oscar. "No spillage!"

Oscar looked up at her. Her cheeks were flushed all the way over, and her eyeliner had started to smudge at the corners. Her hair was still kind-of straight, but she had that tipsy tilt to her posture, like she couldn't tell if she was just hot or needed to sit down immediately.

"Move over," she said, not really asking, as Oscar shifted just enough to let her in.

She plopped her elbows on the table and grinned. "What did I miss?"

"Max spending his last pay-check on tequila," Carlos said.

"Excellent," she laughed, reaching for her shot.

Everyone at the table began lifting theirs too, a silent cheers passing through before Max counted down.

"Three... two...!"

They all threw their heads back.

But Andi could only get hers higher than her chin, as Oscar's hand came over hers — and he pulled it toward himself without saying a word and drank it.

She stared at him for a while, because she took a while to figure out where her shot went before clocking that he'd taken it for her.

"Thief," she whispered.