Coke & Run

o n e

A/N: HI, I'M BACK WITH ROMANCE. CLICK 'VOTE' AND HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS ♥

"Our Uber should be here in less than five minutes," Hailey reminds me.

"Finally," I mutter. I grab my mascara wand to apply a final coating on my eyelashes, and when I'm satisfied with the result, I finish off the rest of the liquor in my Solo Cup.

My roommate Lauren conveniently stumbles out of the bathroom with a head full of spiral curls, smelling like a mixture of hairspray and rum at the same time as Hailey yells, "Time to go!"

We shove our ID's in our phone cases, and I tie a room key to my shoelace before I lock the door behind us. Before we even step into the elevator, Hailey and Lauren are already doubling over in laughter.

"What's wrong, Bec?" Lauren asks, twirling a piece of my hair between her fingers.

"Yeah, aren't you excited?" Hailey asks, draping an arm over my shoulder and leaning on me for support.

"Oh, God. She's not having fun!" Lauren shouts, answering for me. Being roommates, Lauren often takes it upon herself to answer for me, claiming that we have established telepathy within our six weeks of knowing each other.

"But it's your 18th birthday! You have to have fun," Hailey insists. The elevator dings as we reach the lobby of our dorm, and we make our way to the entrance of the building as gracefully as we can.

"I am excited," I promise them. "I'm just upset that Cameron couldn't be here to celebrate with us."

"I'm sorry," Hailey says with a frown. "Why'd he go home again?"

"His cousin's getting married tomorrow, so he's going out for the Bachelor's party tonight," I answer. "He came by before he left to wish me a happy birthday, though."

"Is that where that Ben and Jerry's ice cream in the fridge came from?" Lauren asks, putting two and two together.

"Yeah," I gush. "He bought my favorite flavor."

"What a sweetheart," Hailey coos. She points to a silver car across the street. "There's our guy!"

We reach our Uber and clamber into the back seat, reaffirming the exact location in Columbus, Ohio, to our driver. The ten minute car ride passes by quickly, and soon enough we can spot the bright lights from the nightclub.

"Bullwinkles Nightclub." Lauren scrunches her nose. "What a weird name for a club."

We walk into the foyer area and see a few guys from the Sigma Chi frat behind a white table. We pay the $8 fee and watch as they mark our wrists with black X's, indicating that we're under 21 years old.

"They didn't even check to make sure we were all 18," I realize with a frown.

"I don't think they're that strict about it," Hailey informs me.

"So I could've been going to clubs all year without getting carded?" I ask with frustration. Having a late birthday means that I came into college at 17 years old, having to wait almost two months until my 18th birthday. All my friends had already turned 18 in the summer, and it felt like the world of a difference.

As we make our way into the club, the first thing I notice is the reflection of the laser lights off dozens of white shirts. I look down at my attire, a white button down shirt and black spandex, and realize that I look the same as everyone else, as expected. I guess when the party is Risky Business themed, you aren't bound to see many different variations in apparel.

"First stop," I say, "is the bathroom."

After waiting in too long of a line, Lauren, Hailey, and I finally reach the sinks where we scrub all evidence of the sharpie off our wrists. With a satisfied smirk, I grab my friend's hands and lead them to the bar. We stand with a flood of people around the counter and practically throw our money to the bartender as he hands over three coke and rum mixed drinks. It isn't our first drink of the night, and it is quite apparent from the sway in our step and the slight slur of our speech.