The weather outside still hasn’t let up and even if it had, I’m far too drunk to care. We’re both laying down beside each other now, the yoga mats squished together. I think if I stood up the contents of my stomach would be on the floor, so I remain laying down. I can feel my stomach churning, but I know better than to make any sudden moves.
“What do you think?” Zachary slurs next to me. We have drunk through the small stash we brought, and he beckons to the empty bottle of rum that sits beside me.
“It tasted like paint thinner and bad decisions,” I grin at him. “Just how it should.”
Zachary pulls something from his pocket, and I realize he is holding out a packet of cigarettes. I’ve never been a smoker, the smell makes me feel queasy, but I take one from him and we share a light, bl
