five ➝ "young & beautiful"

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Chapter Four: Young & Beautiful by Lana Del Ray. 

Picture: Claire Mc'Anthony 

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I placed the palm of my hand against the table and waited patiently for Claire to do something with the ball. My faux confidence must have been fooling everyone after I had insisted she go first. Truthfully I just had no idea what I was supposed to do. The concept of this game was yet hit me. 


Claire's eyebrows furrowed together, and I resisted the urge to laugh. Despite our little bet concerning Luke, I didn't understand why she was taking this so serious. Even if I lost I hardly think Luke would want to spend any time with her.


"Yes!" Claire cheered, and a few of her friends must have started clapping behind her.


I shook my head in confusion, having missed whatever happened, before I looked to Luke.


"You've got to focus more, Indiana." He laughed, nudging my shoulder. He reached into one of the cups and pulled out a white ping-pong ball.


"Gross." I noted. "Okay, so is it my turn?"


"Yeah," Luke paused, and shot me a shy smile, "you've got to drink the cup which the ball landed in though."


"Seriously?" I let out a whine and scrunched my nose up. "You could have at least given me a low down of the game."


"Sorry, love." He smirked, before handing me a red cup that sloshed with brown liquid. "Drink up."


I rolled my eyes, and gave him an unimpressed look before bringing the rim of the cup to my lips. I shut my eyes and tipped my head back, letting the liquor slide down my throat. I choked a little, and spluttered as I finished the drink. Throwing the cup to the side; I wiped my lips.


"What was that?" I blanched.


"Michael lacks the skill to mix alcohol." Luke winced in explanation, and a few moments later I heard an offended "hey!" come from Michael's direction.


"Okay, so it's my turn." I mumbled more to myself.


Luke handed me the small ball, and I tried to focus on the cups. From the outcome of Claire's throw, the cups were what I assumed I was supposed to aim for.

A few seconds later the ball was flying through the air; I'd like to call it soaring actually. It bounced against the table once, and I groaned inwardly. It had hit the table way to hard and just kept going up—until Claire's forehead stopped it.


"Ow!" She cried. "What the hell?"


Laughter burst past my lips as I tried to refrain, however Michael and Luke were loosing it on either side of me so that wasn't helping.


"I'm so sorry!" I cried out, biting down on my lip.


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