Spencer hadn’t thought that any more under-aged partiers could fit in the house, but she had sorely underestimated the power of teenage ingenuity. Oh, how beer could bring the masses together. Spencer shifted her thoughts to keeping up with Ashley. Step over the vomit. Walk around the couple who thought the kitchen floor was an appropriate surface on which to disrobe. They finally arrived… at the laundry room.

“Laundry break?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

“Haha, doubtful. I helped with the party prep. My job was to hide anything of value. And voila,” Ashley popped open the dryer, “my little alcohol is safe.”

“Nice. Very stealthily hidden.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Ashley took a bow. “Now, what shall we have tonight, Ms. Carlin? Looks like we’re choosing between a little Goose and the tequila of my good friend, Senõr Patrón.”

“Hm, tough choice.”

“I’d offer you a mixed drink, but I don’t know if you can tell,” Ashley leaned over to whisper in Spencer’s ear, “I’m a little drunk. And you know what they say. Friends don’t let their drunk friends mix drinks.”

“ Yeah. Ashley, who the hell says that?” Spencer started giggling.

“Um, everyone,” she said seriously. “Stop making fun of me.”

“But it’s so easy,” Spencer grinned.

“I think this conversation could use some Patrón. Here.”

Spencer took the bottle from Ashley.

“I don’t have any cups, but we can always get some from the…”

Before Ashley could finish her sentence, Spencer had taken a rather large gulp from the bottle. She winced, but quickly recovered.

“Damn Carlin, I never knew you were such a sav!”

***********

Pretty soon the once full bottle of tequila was virtually empty. Both girls were beginning to feel the effects as they sat on the floor of the laundry room giggling.

Ashley was the first to actually verbalize something coherent, “Dude, it’s hot in here. I’m sooooo effing hot.”

“You are.” Spencer tucked a strand of sweat-dampened hair behind Ashley’s ear.

Ashley quickly scooted away from Spencer and a protective smirk replaced her carefree smile. She stood up, fully feeling the effects of the countless shots of tequila.

“You are such a goddamn trip, Spencer.” Ashley yanked open the door of the laundry room and left Spencer slumped on the floor confused, drunk, and smelling slightly like dryer sheets.