ALAYNA
For the entire hour, as we wait for midnight, we drink, talk, and mostly listen to Casey sharing her experiences in university. She’s into the third year of her second undergraduate degree, which I find awesome. But our conversation jumps to an annoying cooking partner who pretty much made her do all the work. However, he was also an excellent condiment mixer. Whenever she speaks about him, I’m not sure if she hates or admires him.
“Wait.” I laugh. “Did you say ‘him’?”
She sips her drink. “Yes.”
“Aha!” I snap my finger. “You like him!”
“What?” she shrieks. “No, no, no, way! He’s lazy, and he’s rude, and he’s—”
“Hot,” I add.
“And hot...” Her mouth drops. “No. Alayna!”
I burst out laughing. “I knew it! What’s his name?”
“E-Eric.” Her face turns so red that she avoids my eyes.
