JUNIPER’S POV:
We sway to the music, our bodies moving in time with the beat. The bass thuds through the club, but it feels far away now, muted by the alcohol clouding my mind. By the time Rhea and I collapse on the couch, I’m beyond tipsy. Rhea digs into her purse as her phone buzzes, her fingers fumbling over the zipper. Then she stops, giving off a sigh.
“Why did I even bother?” She questions as the phone stops ringing.
“Probably my mum reminding us to show up tomorrow on time,” she says, rolling her eyes. I chuckle, leaning my head back against the couch.
“That’s not happening. No way.” My words come out sluggishly, but I don’t care. Tomorrow feels like another lifetime, I say to myself, shutting my eyes.
“Rhea,” a familiar voice cuts through the haze, and I blink up to see Lyon s
