Always You || Simon Minter (miniminter)

Chapter 16

"What were you two doing?" Jide asks, looking between Simon and me.

I glance at Simon, who looks worried. I don't know if he's going to say something or not.

"We wer—" I start, but Simon cuts me off.

"Nothing, we were just talking," he says, smiling at Jide before glancing at me. He lied.

My heart sinks into my stomach. I feel sick all of a sudden. Why would he lie? He told me Jide would be fine with it. Jide looks at me, clearly expecting me to say something.

"Yeah... we were just talking," I force a smile. I want to cry, but giving in now would ruin everything. Jide smiles and puts his arm around my shoulders.

"Good, because I'd kill you, Simon," he winks before pulling me away to the dance floor.

Jide dances enthusiastically while I stand and sway awkwardly, still feeling the sting of Simon's lie.

"Dance!" he shouts, grabbing my hands and lifting them up, jiggling my arms.

"You're just flapping my arm fat about," I mumble. He stops, noticing my attitude but doesn't say anything. Instead, he grabs my hand and drags me to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" I watch as he walks across the kitchen and opens a cupboard, pulling out the largest bottle of vodka I've ever seen.

"No way," I mutter, a smile creeping onto my face. Just what I needed.

"Remember when we were younger and we'd take shots of Pepsi, pretending we were drunk?" Jide grins from ear to ear, excitement radiating off him.

"I do... it was fun," I laugh, realizing where he's going with this. Probably not a good idea, but... "Let's do it, but this time with real alcohol. We'll actually be drunk."

"Fuck it," we both laugh. He grabs the shot glasses and hands me the bottle.

"Let me," he tries to grab the bottle, but I pull it out of reach.

"I worked in a nightclub for a while... let me," he protests, but I smile and pour the shots myself. It's almost instinctive now. Maybe a little spill, but he's too excited to notice.

We knock the shots back, and holy hell, it burns. My mind is a mess from Simon, and this is exactly what I need to numb it... if only temporarily.

⸻

We fucked it. Rightfully so. Ten minutes later, the alcohol hits like a ton of bricks. I'm lying on the kitchen island, Jide running around like a maniac, singing loudly.

"Oh my god, Jide," I laugh, holding my phone up. It's a photo of us when we were nine: me with a bob cut, Jide with the massive gap in his teeth.

"Good old days," he laughs, putting my phone down. Then he grabs my ankles and drags me off the island. I thud to the floor. Silence.

"Motherfucker," I mumble, and we both burst out laughing, barely able to see straight. The party outside continues, but right now, it doesn't matter.

I turn to Jide, hiccuping, "We sh-should join the party."

He stands and pulls me up. "Let's go."

We head to the dance floor — Harry's living room — where Ethan, Freezy, and Harry are already dancing. I throw my arms up, swaying to the music. At this point, I literally don't care.

I glance around and catch Simon staring at me from across the room.

"How much have you guys had to drink?" Harry calls out, eyeing us clearly.

"A lot," I smile, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer. He laughs and lets me make him dance. Jide, Ethan, and Freezy act like we're in a nightclub, while Harry and I get lost in our own little chaos.

"I want another drink... do you want one?" I ask Harry, smiling.

He nods, and I head to the kitchen. It's empty — usually the life of the party, but not tonight. I pour two drinks when the kitchen door opens.

A tall, angry-looking blonde strides in. He paces toward me, and I instinctively stiffen.

"What's wrong with you?" he snaps, taking the bottle from my hand and placing it on the counter. The glass clinks against marble, making me wince.

"You've had enough. We're going home," he says, taking my hand.

"I'm not leaving with you," I pull my hand away, standing my ground. His expression goes completely blank.

"Amelia, we're going home. Vikk and Josh will get Jide later." He holds out his hand again, giving me the choice. I sigh, too tired and too drunk to argue. I place my hand in his, a small smile on his lips as I do.

We weave through the crowd, saying goodbye before heading out and getting into a taxi.

We sit in silence. I want to bring up the fact that he lied, but I'm honestly too drunk. My head spins, and all I want is to dance some more. I can't believe he's taking me home.

"Hey... you okay?" he asks, a worried look on his face.

"Yup," I mumble, smiling slightly before turning away, watching the streets of London blur past my window.

The rest of the journey is quiet. Not the comfortable kind of quiet, but tense. I just want to get to my bed.

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