Page 17 of Mixing Drinks For Tipsy Weasels

Robin reappears with a sheet of paper and puts it down on the table. "You're going to have to rate each of them so we can decide which three we're going to serve at the ball. Most popular wins, nothing more complicated than that."

"Got it," I tell them, pulling the flight with my name on it towards me. Six tiny glasses of cocktails sit in front of me. "All right, so what are we starting with?"

"The classic mojito," Sami says, instantly going for the one at the end.

I shrug. "I guess that's as good as any. What have you got instead?" I ask Rupert.

"Probably one with synthetic lime syrup or something," he says. "It'll still taste of mojito." He takes a sip and then grimaces.

"Not good?"

"Not particularly. How's yours?"

I pick up the glass in question and take a sip. It's tarter than I expect it to be, normally alcohol-free stuff is sweeter, but I don't mind it. "That's nice. I'm not sure it's going to be my favourite though."

"Oh? And what do you think will be?"

"The daiquiri, who doesn't love frozen pureed fruit in their drinks?" I pick up the bright pink cocktail and take a sniff. "Wow, I'm impressed by how much like booze this one smells."

"Yeah, I wouldn't expect that. But I don't know very much about non-alcohol spirits."

"Me neither. I don't drink them much, normally I just stick to stuff that was never meant to have it in the future." I take a sip of the daiquiri and nod. "Oh, yes. That's good."

Rupert picks up his own and takes a sip. "Better than the mojito."

"Maybe cocktails just aren't your thing," I say.

"Maybe not," he agrees. "But they're what we're here to try, so I'm going to do that." He sets down his half-finished drink. "I'm going to keep some of it so that I can compare it to the others."

"Oh, good idea." I put mine back into my flight of glasses.

Beside us, Sami and D seem to be having an intense conversation, though it doesn't seem to be about the cocktails even if theirs are mostly empty already.

I don't mind too much. It means that I get to talk with Rupert a bit more, which isn't something I ever thought I'd want. I stilldon't know what happened between us, but I like that I've been able to talk to him for the past couple of weeks.

There's a buzz in the room of people talking a little too loudly, probably because the drinks have already started to go to some people's heads. Not for the first time, I find myself grateful that's not me. I don't care when other people drink around me, but I like to keep my head clearer. Or maybe that's just the way I see things because of Dad. Most of the other dozen or so people in the room have likely lived with an alcoholic the way I have, or seen how hard it is for them to struggle against the temptation of drinking.

I push the thought aside and go back to tasting the cocktails, glad that it's been possible for me to try the non-alcoholic versions of them. I don't always care, but it's nice to feel included.

I wrinkle my nose at the tequila sunrise. "I don't like that one," I say.

"All right, put a big cross next to it," Rupert says, sliding the sheet of paper across to me.

"That seems a little dramatic," I respond, but add a note that I don't like it very much anyway. I'm sure some people love it, but from what I've heard about tequila, it's always a bit touch and go.

The bartender brings another flight and I lift an eyebrow. "We're not done yet?"

"Just be glad we're not having to pick the wine too," Rupert says, pulling the two with our names on towards us and leaving Sami to deal with the other two. Despite sitting at the same table as us, it's clear that Sami and D are in a world of their own. It's kind of adorable.

"You don't even seem affected by everything you've been drinking," I say.

"I haven't been finishing them," he points out.

"Ah, that's smart," I say.

"I'd like to think so. We should finish the first round before we start on the second."

From the cheers from the rest of the tables, I think some of the others have already started on their second lot.

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