[Dedicated to Sev because she's such a brilliant author who managed to pull my heart apart with her Camp NaNo book. Also, she's a fantastic cabin mate who is not afraid to be brash with her sense of humor in all our chats.]

Standing by the punch table with a cup in my hand and feeling a little like a flummoxed loser, I stared, mouth slightly agape, at my brother laugh as he sipped from his cup of spiked punch and watched Dacey rather animatedly tell him a story.

Leaning back on the punch table while still being careful to not knock over the punch bowl, I took another sip from my cup. Damn. My best friend actually had a shot at getting with her crush, which really still horrified me even though I had reluctantly agreed to help her. Her love life looked a lot different from my own – which really shouldn't have horrified me so much since she was like the experienced, boy-crazy older sister to my socially awkward, geeky younger sister.

"Don't worry," said Cara as she slid next to me with a red solo cup in hand. "Neither of them will remember what happens tonight." She elbowed me, grinning wildly as the golden light from the bonfire flickered over her face. "They'll ask us tomorrow, and we can mess with their heads as much as we want."

"You're devious," I muttered to her out of the side of my mouth. I drank from my cup. "But seriously, Cara."

She shrugged, looping her arm through mine. I turned to her, lifting an eyebrow and scanning her face. She was definitely at least tipsy, judging by the way her head was slightly wobbling and her teeth were clicking together.

"What?" she exhaled loudly into my face. I turned to my elbow, coughing heavily – God, she wasn't just tipsy. Her breath alone was probably enough to get ten young children drunk with a single inhale. "I'm the evil and philosophical drunk, remember?"

She wiggled her eyebrows.

I shoved her away a couple inches, still sputtering. "The sad truth of the matter," I muttered into my elbow, "is that I'm stuck with you, a very inferior version of your sober self. And Dacey's off, canoodling with my brother –" I broke off, waving my arm in the direction of the lovebirds.

Cara slung her arm over my shoulder, seeming to hang off of me like a very heavy, life-size version of a ragdoll. I squeaked, stumbling a little to the other side. Heavy, heavy, heavy. God, if she squeezed her arms around me any tighter, she was going to strangle me like she was my execution noose.

"You are gonna love me," she sang out, her eyes glinting maliciously as she pinched my left cheek. "I am going to break" – she snapped her fingers right in front of my eyes – "them apart for you. That's because you take way too much pleasure in seeing failed relationships because you have a failed relationship."

I was probably displaying symptoms of severe asthma by now because of Cara...I stifled a giggle. "My dear," I responded, feeling a little like sober Dacey in her older sister persona, "I'm not even in a relationship to start with, so it can't exactly fail."

Cara rolled her eyes. "Honey, you've been sober for too long." She glanced into my cup, which I jerked away from her face with a disgruntled grumble. "Are you seriously drinking the punch that we made?" she asked, eyes wide open. "Wimp."

She began to drag me to the table with the spiked punch that was mostly alcohol and not so much actual punch, and for once, I didn't resist. Maybe I could try my best to forget that disgusting sight of my brother and my best friend hooking arms.

Hooking arms.

For goodness' sake.

I downed the cup of almost pure vodka in one gulp, ignoring the silky sand in which my feet were sinking and the fading red light far away on the horizon. And everything else too. Maybe then I could look at Dom without dying inside – that would be a huge plus, wouldn't it?

↔

My nose felt stuffed, and sweat was dripping down the side of my face. As I unsteadily sat myself right on the beach, feeling the sand stick to my slick thighs, I giggled. I really wanted to lie down, probably because it would help with my nose, but I had a weird nagging thought in the back of my head that said it wasn't the greatest idea to get sand all over myself.

I gulped down the rest of the stuff in my cup. It tasted absolutely horrible – hard vodka with a hint of artificial cherry – but Cara did tell me that it was supposed to be good for me. Something about Dacey. And Dom.

Quickly, I whipped my elbows back into my lap. Dom and Dacey? That was nasty. Dacey knew that Dom was my crush. That bitch. Was that Dom with whom she was canoodling on the other side of the bonfire? I was going to show that stupid skank what stuff I was made of.

Then, Dacey's mystery companion turned his head. The light from the bonfire glinted off the golden highlights in his dark hair. I squinted to see through the flickering, dancing flames. Oh. That wasn't Dom. I should have known that. I always knew that. Dom's hair was so dreamy and dark and wavy and – dear God.

Dacey was with my brother.

I gagged, vaguely tasting the acidic, burning contents of my stomach in the back of my throat. With difficulty, I swallowed dryly. God, I really needed to throw up, but something told me that wouldn't be a good idea.

Something about my vomit being toxic. Or was it because it usually made a huge mess?

I frowned, leaning all the way back. With a muffled thump, my back hit the sand on the beach, and I ran my hands through my hair, which was splayed all over the ground.

Something in my head also told me that I shouldn't be so surprised about Dacey and my brother. I scrunched my brows together even more, so much that my facial muscles were getting all tired. Ow. That hurt. Did Dacey ask me something about him? Or was it Carter who was initially interested in her?

"Fucking weirdos," I said out loud to the night sky, twinkling with a few stars. I still really wanted to throw up.

But again, I didn't really want to throw up all over myself, especially not in this lying position. Plus, people like Dom could be around to see me. I clenched my jaw, chewing away at the side of my cheek. Wait, was Dom even here at this party? I did have a vague recollection of his face, but I wasn't sure if I'd gotten that image from my dreams or from real life.

I lay there, staring at the few stars for a while before it got pretty boring. After all, stars were basically balls of nuclear energy that were probably all dead by now due to their very far proximity from Earth. And plus, they didn't compare to Dom's eyes. His eyes were so deep and pretty.

My facial muscles were getting incredibly strained from all the thinking and grimacing I was doing. Cara was the one who thought everything suddenly had a dark underlying meaning after she had a couple shots, right? And did Dom like me? I couldn't really remember. That was annoying.

"Hey," said someone. He sat down right next to me so close that he was practically sitting on my hand.

Was he Dom? If he was, I would take the chance to grope his ass. I turned my head to the side floppily. A couple grains of sand must have gotten into my eyes because the person certainly didn't look like Dom at all. I squinted a little.

Light from the fire didn't lie, I reminded myself. And that light most definitely told me that this person was my brother, who'd disappeared from Dacey's side at some point in time, of which I wasn't aware.

I withdrew my hand from underneath his ass that I felt the strain in my arm muscles and rolled over away from him, landing right on my stomach.

Sand tasted pretty horrible, I realized as I licked my lips.

Did I swallow any sand?

Carter grabbed my wrist, which I tried to yank away from him futilely, and pulled me up with a mighty pull that made it feel like he'd dislocated my shoulder. I let out a very loud groan of protest, resorting, instead, to weakly kicking his foot even though I could barely feel my own legs.

"You're such a pathetic drunk," he said, slinging his arm over my shoulders with a disgruntled wince.

"Why're you doing that?" I muttered, trying my best to shrug his arm off. It was just so heavy. Plus, he was resting his hand on my upper arm, making it super impossible for me to do anything about the situation.

My brother rolled his eyes at me, taking a sip from the cup in his other hand. "You're gonna fall right over if I let go of you. Do you seriously think that I even usually want to touch you? And besides, usually you're the responsible one."

I grinned cheekily. "Are you even drunk yet?" I tried once more to pry his hand off my upper arm, but my fingers were all weird and grubby and big. Instead, I just pinched his thumb. "Wussy."

Carter tightened his grip on my arm. That totally wasn't supposed to happen, which was super annoying. "Someone has to drive home tonight, you know. Anyway, you're catching a ride with someone, right?" He glanced over his shoulder. "God, I do not want to be the one driving my drunk sister home after her high school party."

"Wussy," I repeated, practically cackling now. "Wussy."

Why did that word sound so funny?

My brother groaned so loudly that it hurt my ears. He was such a meanie. "Well," he muttered to his lap, "it looks like I'll be driving you home tonight."

"Ooh." I sat up a little more, jostling his arm over my shoulder. "How's Dacey getting home? And Cara too. She thinks that your car is, like, a great place to, like, think about the darkness of life." I broke off, staring up at the stars again. "Stars are pretty."

Carter's face was red in the flickering light of the fire of the otherwise pitch dark night when I turned my head to look at him. All around us on the beach, people were chattering and drinking and generally having a rowdy fest influenced by hormones and the nasty stuff in their cups, probably. Maybe it was just the weird lighting that made Carter's face look like that.

"There are designated sober drivers," he said. "I hope they pick up after this place." He wrinkled his nose. "Lottie, your breath smells horrible. You know you're a lightweight."

I giggled guiltily. "I had, like, three cups."

Or maybe four. Or two. Or one. I didn't quite count. Besides, wasn't the sober version of me horrible at math anyway? Or something like that. I wasn't sure, which even further annoyed me. I really had no idea why I had so much trouble remembering everything tonight.

Carter rolled his eyes once again and stood up, withdrawing his arm from over my shoulders. He pulled my legs up and gingerly wrapped my arms around my knees. "Just sit here and don't move until I get back, 'kay?" He left behind a cloud of sand as he tromped over the beach away from me.

Oh my. He really was a pretty good support for me, but again, my knees weren't too bad of a substitute.

I stared into the crack between my legs even though I didn't see anything but fire and dancing orange. My head was really beginning to hurt now. What was taking Carter so long? What was he doing anyway?

There was an interval of time when I sat there next to the fire numbly, feeling utterly and completely bored and confused. Then someone came to save me from that humdrum, which was really nice of him. I could hear a person approaching me from the sand he displaced as he came my way. This time, he came on my other side, so I angled my head so I could greet him properly.

Just as he sat down, transferring the cup in his hand to the sand in between us, I grinned and picked my head up from my knees. "Fires are pretty."

Calmly, Dom stared right back into my eyes with those dark, glinting lumps of coal and responded, "You're fucking odd."

"You're pretty," I said back.

This was Dom. Oh. He most definitely wasn't canoodling with Dacey. I frowned. Why did I ever think that in the first place? It was probably because their names started with the same letter. I nodded a little, satisfied as I placed my chin on top of my knees.

"You've been enjoying the party?" He fiddled with the cup on the sand, not meeting my eyes.

His body was incredibly muscular and big, which I could tell from the light of the fire. God, he smelled fantastic – like a mix of punch, ocean salt, sweat, and airiness. I wondered vaguely if I could lean my head on his shoulder.

Something in the back of my head told me that he wouldn't appreciate that.

"Hey, Charlotte." Dom was staring at me again. He was sitting close enough to me so that I could slightly smell the beer in his breath. Had he been drinking that much? He still remembered my name, I reminded myself, which probably meant that he wasn't drunk. Like me. "Answer the fucking question, will ya?"

He lifted an eyebrow at me.

Fuck him. I leaned my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. I was really tired all of a sudden. Maybe I could nap right here. His shoulder was so comfortable, probably because of all that muscle he had, and I could just melt into him now in the heat of the nearby bonfire.

Out of nowhere, Dom shrugged my head off. I jerked back, putting my head back on my knees. "That was creepy." He inhaled sharply, scooting a little farther away from me.

I frowned. Did I do something wrong? I followed him a little, picking up the cup between us and finishing it off. It was beer, the expensive kind that my parents would buy from Europe. I smacked my lips together – it was so bitter and nasty.

"Don't you dare follow me." Dom's eyes were hard and cold now, looking a little like glinting flint.

Mean. I frowned even more empathetically.

Well, I supposed that was one thing I wasn't supposed to do.

"You're not very nice," I responded, tossing the cup over at him and hitting him squarely on the chest. "What did I do?"

"I can't pretend that I don't feel you watching me," he spat out, digging his palms into the sand. "Again, I repeat. It's fucking creepy. And that stupid musical of yours." He stopped, furrowing his brows. Wow, that was hot. I chastised myself immediately – he'd just insulted me. I frowned too. Mean. "Dudes and Chicks? Something like that?"

Now that was something I remembered, and I sat up self-righteously. "It's Guys and Dolls!" I huffed. "It's not that hard to remember."

"Stupid shit." Dom threw the plastic cup behind him, curling his upper lip. "Usually we'd be having this completely normal conversation, and then you bring up that dumb show. And it fucks up everything."

He was leaning in closer now, so if I really wanted to, I could slap him silly without putting in too much effort. I bit my lip, feeling my hands curl into fists in the sand. "You're a horrible human being. No rational person can dismiss that masterpiece so easily, and you make it seem like it's your personal mission to slander it, which is –"

Dom basically leapt across the little space in between us and pushed his index finger up to my lips. I inhaled sharply. His dark eyes, which looked black, were staring back into mine, and I could feel his nose rubbing against mine. My heart was in overdrive, and I could feel a bead of sweat dripping down the side of my face.

Hot.

My head felt so hazy.

"You know, Charlotte," he whispered, tilting his chin up as his eyes gleamed cockily, "you're a little bitch who needs to figure out when to shut the fuck up about that stupid show because you know shit about me."

I pushed his finger off my lips, and my lips collided into his. What happened? I wasn't quite sure what had occurred, but I did feel his fingers on my chin, tilting my head up to better meet his. It was hot. I leaned into him even more because he was all warmth and toughness. Then, a split second later, our lips disconnected with a little pop.

He was still practically an inch away from me. "It's Lottie," I murmured huskily into his lips. "Not Charlotte."

"I don't give a shit," he muttered back to me defiantly.

Something in me snapped, and I had a strange flashback into someone's eyes. I felt myself lift one hand, pretending to reach out to caress his face, but instead, I whipped out another hand, which connected with his other cheek with a rather impressive smack.

Dom jerked back, holding up a hand to his reddening cheek, eyes flashing.

Served that bastard right – stupid, overly confident, cocky jerk. He reminded me of someone in that musical he'd just trashed: someone named Sky Masterson, a gambler who'd messed around with mission member Sarah Brown's emotions. And I was that Sarah Brown, defiant and badass in the moment.

Suddenly, I felt someone's hand grasping my upper arm, pulling me away from Dom. "Dear God," muttered my brother as he set me upright, his eyes wide. "I leave you alone for one second, and then this happens."

→

This update is a little delayed, sorry, lol.

But anyway, Carter is obviously the most responsible person in this entire chapter, which is a little odd, especially after Lottie rambles on and on about his stupidity. But drunk/tipsy (as Lottie would insist) people are fun, and this party is no exception...

So above, I've attached the song in this chapter title. This really is one of the best songs in the musical because it sets up the dynamic between Sarah Brown and Sky Masterson, one of the main couples. Plus, it shows that Sky Masterson has quite a sense of humor. In this scene, what happens is that Sky Masterson enters the missionary to follow up with his bet with Nathan Detroit (that Sky can't take the uptight leader of the missionary to Havana, a party city, with him). (Remember, Nathan needs this money so he can rent out the Biltmore Garage for the crap game.) The two proceed to have an argument about their perceptions of love (Sarah thinks Sky is a good-for-nothing gambler and sinner). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this song!

Thank you for everything, and till the next time,

Anne xo