Page 61 of The Vipers and Their Vendetta

“Did it happen to any of you?” I look around at the three of them hopefully.

“Well, no,” Faith admits. “Not tous,but it does happen.”

“And obviously, you kind of stand out here.” Angelica makes a vague circling motion with her finger at me. I’m not sure if she’s indicating my clothes, or my size, or my tattoos. Maybe all three.

I cringe in my seat. “Sure, of course.”

She flashes me a smile. “Try not to let it get to you.”

“Oh, I’m not. I’ve got more important stuff to worry about than that.”

Angelica blinks. “You do?”

“Well, yeah.”

I want to tell her how stressed I am. What with the Vipers, and Reagan, and the mess I am in. However, I remember my plans for tonight were to try to find out more about Reagan, so I need to keep myself calm and together.

I shrug and add, “I suppose I just keep thinking about Reagan and the awful thing that happened to her.”

I might as well try to bring her into the conversation as early as possible. I’ve heard these evenings can get raucous and the music loud, so we might not have much chance to talk later.

Jarena tilts her head to one side. “You seem awfully invested in someone who was a childhood friend. I don’t mean to be cruel,” she adds quickly. “It’s just that I don’t even think about most of my childhood friends anymore.”

“We were really close,” I say. “More like sisters than friends.” The urge to tell them the truth is so overwhelming, but I can’t. It’s too dangerous.

A large, muscular man walks over to the table holding a tray, which he sets down onto the worn wooden surface. He takes ahuge bowl of ice, blue liquid and plastic fish, and places it down by the tray.

The liquid sloshes around in the bowl, and the small plastic fish in it move around as if they’re swimming. My heart sinks. As cute as it looks, I’m really not in the mood to start drinking fish bowls tonight.

“Do you want glasses or just straws?” the barman asks.

Angelica flashes him a bright smile and flutters her eyelashes. “Just straws, thanks.”

She doesn’t bother to ask anyone else their opinion, which is something I’m beginning to realize is her usual way.

He returns a moment later with straws and passes them out. I place mine on the beer mat next to me and continue to sip my Coke.

“You’re not going to have a drink?” Faith asks.

“I’m quite tired,” I say truthfully.

“Girl, don’t ruin the night.” Angelica rolls her eyes. “This is party night. It’s the weekend tomorrow, so you can spend the whole day in bed doing nothing. There are no lessons, and you can just chill out, watch Netflix, and drown in carbs. Tonight, we drink and party.”

Now I’m the one wanting to roll my eyes. I didn’t even want to come here. I also hoped I’d get a chance to talk properly about Reagan, but just as I’m about to try to steer the conversation in that direction, a pounding beat starts up.

“I love this song,” Faith squeals. “Imagine how cool it must have been to grow up in the nineties. They had all the best music and movies. I’m going to dance. Does anybody want to join me?”

Angelica shakes her head, as do I. Jarena, though, stands and sashays to the dance floor beside Faith.

Angelica picks up my straw and passes it to me, holding it in front of my face. She stares at me, her jaw jutting, and eyes determined.

“Drink,” she orders. “Come on, you’re here for a good night. You look like you could do with it. You only get to live through college once. There’s no point in being here if you’re not going to get the full experience, after all.”

“Well, there is the educational side of it.”

I smile at her, but she doesn’t return my expression. Instead, she simply seems puzzled, as if she can’t compute the fact that we are here to study.

She dips her straw into the huge bowl and sucks up some of the blue liquid. For some reason, whenever I see a fishbowl cocktail, it always reminds me of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I imagine it being the kind of drink Willy Wonka would have invented.

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