Page 14 of Truth or Tequila (Grand Slam 1)

“Is that his name?”

“That was his name,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Was? Is he dead now?”

“He’s dead to me!” She smiles broadly again as she closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose. She lets out a few chuckles. She’s very pleased with her joke.

Her eyes pop open. “Wait, is your name Sam?” She’s so serious all of a sudden. Even if my name were Sam, I think I’d lie to her.

“It’s Seb.”

“Sep?”

“Seb.”

“Sep-p-p-p.” She lets it drain out of her mouth slowly, popping every “p” with her perfect lips. “Sep is a weird name.”

“Sep is a weird name. It’s not my name, but it’s definitely weird.”

“You said your name was Sep.” She taps me on the nose again.

“I said my name was Seb. It’s short for Sebastian.”

“Oh!” She sits up straight. “My neighbors had a cat named Sebastian. We called him Sebbie. Can I call you that?”

“You definitely cannot call me that.”

She sighs again and lays her head back on my shoulder. “I didn’t want to call Sam, so I had to drink tuh-keeee-luh. I don’t like it very much.”

“I don’t think tequila likes you very much either.” I take a whiff of her hair again. It smells so good. “Why didn’t you want to call him?”

“He’s awful,” she says into my chest. “He cheated on me.”

“He is awful. And it sounds like he’s pretty stupid, too.”

“He is stupid.” She sits up again and leans in until her eyes are inches from mine. “Your eyes are blue.”

“Yep—”

“And they’re ripply. They look like ocean waves.”

“I don’t think my eyes are ripply,” I say, putting my forehead against hers. “I think your vision is a little blurry right now.”

“I like looking at your eyes,” she says as she yawns right into my face. She tries to cover it with her hand but ends up smacking the side of my head.

“Okay, I think it’s time to get you home. You’re done for the night.” I look down at her table of friends and motion the one with the crown to the stairs. “Joe, let her up.”

“I have to kiss you first or I won’t win the game,” Sophie says as her head bobs to her chest.

“Not going to happen,” I say, lifting her chin. “I only kiss sober women.”

“I’m drunk,” she says. She’s staring right into my eyes again. I like looking at her eyes, too. They’re the lightest brown I’ve ever seen, accentuated by sparkling flecks of green.

“Yes, you are drunk, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Okay.” She puts her head back down on my shoulder and lets out a sigh. By the time her friend makes it up to us, she’s almost fallen asleep on my chest.

“Sophie.” Her friend shakes her shoulder. “Wake up. It’s time to go home.”

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