"Well, let's get drunk." I say and begin to grab bottles from the counter.
We got back from the roof Gage took me to and it's around nine. I lean over the counter to grab a shot glass and I pour vodka into it.
"Bottoms up, bitch." I gulp down the shot in one go and I prepare to take my next one.
"Don't drink too fast." Gage smirks.
I ignore him and begin my third shot. I get a sudden buzz through my body but I'm only getting started.
A shot and a half later I say, "Let's start."
"First question, where are you from?" I ask.
"New York."
"Why'd you move here?"
"That's two questions. I believe it's my turn." He raises an eyebrow.
"Fine." I sigh.
"Why do you think glitter is a color?" He taunts.
"Basic. Glitter is a color because it's basically a collection of a ton of colors, but they're sparkly... and who doesn't love sparkly things?" I reason. He just rolls his eyes and takes another drink.
"Um," I ponder, "Have you ever been in love?" Dumb question I know.
He scoffs as he grimaces, "No."
"Take another shot. You're so tense." I push his stiff shoulder.
He takes two instead.
"Ask me another question." He says.
"Why do you have so many tattoos?"
"Because they remind me of things."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," He shakes his head, "Are you here alone? In the city."
"Yup. No family here."
"Where are they?" He questions.
"Where's your family?" I question back.
A few seconds pass,"I don't have any." He reveals.
"Oh. Why?" I look at him shift on the stool.
When he doesn't say anything I begin, "Okay then. Well, what was that dinner thing that you took me to for? Answer that."
"If you knew, you'd run." He pauses, "Away from me."
"No I wouldn't." I defend.
"Well you say that now." He exhales.
"Why do you even care if I go anyways? Not like I can... It's my house." I prop myself onto the counter.
He doesn't respond so I ask another question, "Why are you so secretive and... mysterious? You don't even say anything! You don't even really talk. You just speak."
"Because I don't want you to know much about me. Or anyone for that matter."
"Why not?" I press.
"You just can't get close to me, alright?"
"Wasn't planning on it." There he goes again, being mysterious and weird. "You know, the whole point of the drinking part was to loosen up, but it's clearly not working for you." My words come out as a slur. The vodka kicks in.
"I don't get like that. Especially when I drink." He says lowly. He gets harder if anything. I shrug and exhale.
"I'm pretty sure it's my turn now," he looks at me, "Why are you always so happy?"
YOU ARE READING
GAGE
Teen Fiction"You're... different." I press. "You don't know me, babygirl." "I don't have to. I'm not scared of you." "You should be." __________________________________
