My head was spinning while I was driving to a gas station near the wedding venue. I had taken Luís with me because I hadn't wanted to be alone. "You alright?" Luís asked as I stopped at the parking lot and tried to collect my thoughts. We had gone there to get me some stronger alcohol than wine. I loved my friend, Marisol, but she had us pay for anything but beer and wine at the reception and I was not willing to pay three bucks every time I wanted to take a shot. Originally, I hadn't planned on drinking but the fight with Oliver and seeing Benito hadn't been the best combination for me to stay sober. Luís had told Oliver that we would stay at our parents' house until the next day - he had called him after I had told him what had happened during our phone call. "No, I'm not alright. First Oliver insults me over the phone because I didn't answer one of his text messages and then Benito, out of all people, wants to talk to me. I'm anything but okay." I told my brother, before I grabbed my purse from the backseat and got out of the car. He followed me into the gas station like a lost puppy. It didn't take me long to find the tequila, so I grabbed the biggest bottle they had and walked over to the cashier. Without saying a word, I held up my ID to show him I was definitely old enough, and put the 20 bucks onto the counter. I didn't care about the change, so I grabbed the bottle and left. Luís told him to keep the rest, before he followed me outside again. "Are you trying to drink yourself to death?" he asked as he caught up to me next to the car. I shot him a look, then unlocked the doors and got into it. Sighing, he got into the car as well. "I'm not staying sober with that idiot in the same room." I responded. For the ten minutes that we drove back, I didn't say a word. Although Luís tried to talk to me, I just shook my head and signalised him that I didn't want to. 

By the time dinner was served, I was already tipsy. Whenever I had the chance to, I went to the car and downed a shot. Luís sometimes accompanied me to make sure I was alright. The more tequila I had, the more relaxed I got. Benito had tried to talk  to me again but got interrupted by the bride who pulled me close to her for a picture. Marisol knew that I refused to speak Spanish and so she was the only one except my brother at that wedding that respected my decision and approached me in English every single time. "When's your wedding?" she asked, after we had taken the picture. Benito's eyes widened at this question. "We don't have a date yet. Oliver wants to be financially stable first." I replied slowly. "Has he found a job yet?" Marisol asked, keeping the conversation up. Benito was standing next to us, awkwardly listening. "You would think that it'd be easy to find a good job in NYC but he hasn't had any luck yet." I explained and took a sip from my wine. "Why? He graduated from a good college, companies should be fighting over him." she said surprised. "Yeah, but apparently it's the lack of work experience. So far he only got rejected." I kept on talking. Benito was listening to the whole conversation that later turned into an exchange of ideas for my own wedding. The longer we talked about that, the more Benito seemed to get angry. Matter of fact, his jaw clenched to the point I thought it was gonna break but I was honestly glad because it hindered him from trying to talk to me alone. When Luís approached us with Bernie and Bysael, Marisol excused herself to the bathroom, leaving me there with the Martínez brothers and Luís in awkward silence. "Hola, Caye, hace tiempo, no?" (Hello, Caye, long time no see.) Bysael greeted me friendly. I gave him a soft smile and nodded. "Yeah, it's been a while. You're grown up now." I responded and downed my wine in one sip. Benito eyed me with concern but kept quiet. When Bernie wanted to say something, my brother interrupted him by saying:"She doesn't speak Spanish anymore." All three of the Martínez brothers looked at Luís first, then at me. "Why?" Bernie asked. "Ask your brother why." I gave back, shrugged and turned around. I needed a shot of tequila, so I made my way out of the venue to where I had parked the car. A sigh escaped my lips when I realised that my brother and Bernie, Benito and Bysael were following me. "What do you mean, ask your brother?" I heard Bysael question from behind me. He had been 11 when Benito and I had broken up, so I understood the confusion but I didn't have the power to explain to him what had happened. "Let him explain it to you." I gave back, still walking out of the venue. When I reached the car, I opened the back door to grab the bottle of tequila. Bysael was definitely confused and actually did ask Benito who then told him that he would explain it one day but not in that moment. I took a big sip from the bottle and made a face. The cheap tequila tasted like ass but it did what it was supposed to do. I was definitely more than tipsy now and I could feel myself forget about the stress I had felt just hours before. "So, you're getting married?" Benito asked, once I handed the bottle to Bernie. He smelled at the top and shook his head, then Bysael took it, shrugged and downed a full load of the liquid. "Yeah, I'm getting married." I responded. "Felicidades." Bernie said and gave me a smile. "Always thought you two would get married." Bysael commented, giving the bottle back to me. Instead of answering, I sipped again and started laughing. "Why would you think that?" I asked through the laughter. Benito was visibly getting angry again. "Well, I looked up to your relationship and always hoped to see you back together one day." the 22-year-old mumbled and shrugged. It was obvious that he had no idea why Benito had broken up with me. "Yeah, sorry to break that illusion." I countered and raised the bottle to take another sip. Benito stopped me by yanking it out of my hand. "I think you had enough now. We should go back inside." he sternly said, looking directly at me. "Out of all people, you think you can tell me what to do?" I questioned, glaring up at him. Bernie and Bysael both looked between their brother and me. There was an undeniable tension between the two of us and it was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Benito had not changed a single bit. He was still overprotective and felt the need to be my moral compass, even though he hadn't spoken to me in a decade.