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The room is starting to spin and Apo is losing her footing. She hasn’t had that much to drink, realistically—after all, 4C is chugging something strong smelling out of a cowboy boot, which seems like a really stupid idea even to her very drunk self—but she’s definitely had enough to make her thoughts hazy and her tongue looser.
The party has only been going on for a few hours, but it’s already gotten sort of out of control. Nom and Owain are engaging in a sword fight with pool noodles on the coffee table, the mask that Owain usually wears hanging from one ear and Nom’s glasses askew. Katie and Kitty are spinning each other around in what could generously be called a dance, making Apo dizzy just looking at them. Mae, Shan, and 4C are behind the counter-turned-bar as self-proclaimed bartenders, although they’re doing more drinking than making of drinks. Mae is chanting “CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!” at the top of her lungs as 4C drains his cowboy boot (seriously, that is such a bad idea) and Shan is giggling loopily.
Technically, the party is for the Fourth of July, even though half of them don’t even live in the States, and most of the ones who don’t celebrate the holiday. As Cherri’s always put it, “The day the shittiest country in the world was born thanks to a bunch of crusty white guys fighting even crustier white guys isn’t a reason to celebrate.” It was Graecie’s idea in the first place, and she’d assured everyone that it was really just an excuse to hang out and have fun.
So even though it takes place on the Fourth of July, there’s not a hint of red, white, or blue to be seen. Multicolored streamers hang from the ceiling, confetti covers the floor in places where party poppers went off, and there are at least four light projectors set up around the space, sending long beams flashing through the haze of smoke. The smoke is courtesy of a fog machine that must have been set up at some point during the party, since Apo doesn’t remember it being there when she arrived.
Then again, she doesn’t remember a whole lot from when she arrived. She’s kind of very drunk, the alcohol clouding all of her memories and making things blurry. She knows she came here with 4C and Cherri, but 4C peeled off pretty quickly to say hi to Mae. As for Cherri…Apo doesn’t know where she ended up.
This is a troubling problem for her drunken self. Unfortunately, another problem comes crashing into her at full speed, laughing as she sends them both stumbling.
“Apo!” Bek cheers excitedly. “Have—hic—have you seen Eloise?”
Apo frowns. “No, I haven’t. Have you seen Cherri?”
Bek shakes her head. “We should—hic—look for them together!” she declares, looping her arm through Apo’s. She pulls them along with strength earned from three years of wrestling. “I’m seeking revenge on Frogue,” she informs them as they move through the people. “He’s going to be dead by the end of the night.”
Apo hums, nodding along before realizing that that is, in fact, a concerning thing to say. “Wait, wait, wait,” they say, waving their arms as best they can when Bek is still pulling them along by their linked elbows. “Not that I don’t support, but why?”
“He hit my car when he got here,” Bek informs them, a stormy look on her face. Apo deeply wishes they could’ve seen that. “If he knows he can’t park, why would he try to pull into the driveway? Why would he hit my car? Why would he drive at all? How did he get his license?"
Apo’s drunk brain manages to make sense of Bek’s rambles. “So you’re killing him,” they fill in.
“Yes. I might make out with Eloise over his corpse. Haven’t decided yet. That’s why I’m trying to find her.” She drags them over to where Cam and Sausage are sitting on the floor, sharing a large pizza and a bottle of what looks like vodka. Cam’s glasses are dangling off his face; he has his hands buried in his hair and Sausage looks to be consoling him. Sausage looks for all the world like he’s still completely sober, but Apo’s seen him knocking back shots all night.
“Bek!” Sausage exclaims as they stop in front of him. “Apo! What can I do for you?”
“What’s wrong with Cam?” Apo asks instead of answering his question. Up close, the light beams sweeping through the place light up the tear tracks glittering on his face and his eyes look bloodshot. That might be from the vodka, though.
Cam glances up at the two of them. “Oh. Hi, guys.” He sounds miserable.
Sausage waves away her question. “He’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. What can I do for the two of you?” He fixes them both with an appraising stare, and Bek puffs out her chest.
“We’re looking for Eloise!” she declares.
“And Cherri,” Apo adds.
“And Cherri. Have you seen them?”
Sausage shakes his head. “Not a single glimpse. Try 4C, he was with Cherri when they arrived!”
Apo doesn’t bother to tell him she was also with Cherri when they arrived. Bek blinks. “What about Eloise?”
“She’s talking to Scott,” Cam says, a sob in his voice. He waves his hand vaguely in the direction of the speakers, which are currently blasting ABBA. Honestly, it seems like a very Scott music choice. Sausage starts speaking in hushed tones to Cam again as Bek drags Apo in that direction.
“I’m looking for Cherri!” Apo protests, trying to wriggle out of Bek’s grip. She manages to slip free and stumbles, nearly tipping over before steadying her center of gravity. She is way too drunk for this. Bek doesn’t even notice, still focused on finding Eloise, so Apo angles for the makeshift bar.
4C and Mae are still working the bar, in the loosest terms of working, given that 4C somehow managed to produce a giant vase out of thin air and is steadily filling it with something neon green. It could just be lime soda. Apo doubts that.
Mae is cackling madly as she watches him, red curls loose around her shoulders. She’s bouncing up and down, swaying slightly in a way that indicates she’s not too sober either. 4C’s blue hair is sticking up in a mess of cowlicks, but his hands are surprisingly steady and his face looks oddly serious.
“4C!” Apo shouts, leaning across the counter and waving at him to get his attention. He looks up, and they register the moment he realizes it’s them. It takes a second for him to do so, which isn’t surprising given they’ve already seen him down at least five drinks plus the cowboy boot.
“What?!” he shouts back.
“Have you seen Cherri?” Apo asks.
4C blinks at her, taking a moment to identify who Cherri is. “No!” he yells. “Shan saw her!” He waves with the empty bottle he’s holding in the direction of Shan, who is tipped back against the counter with a lazy smile on her face. She looks absolutely wasted. Graecie is beside her, quietly murmuring something.
“Give her a shot!” Mae says, grabbing a bottle of something and pouring what is decidedly not a shot’s worth of alcohol into a plastic cup. She shoves it in Apo’s direction, who takes it and knocks back the entire thing in one go. It burns their throat and makes their eyes water, but it’s appreciated.
“Thanks, Mae,” they say. She gives them a salute as they wander over to Shan and Graecie.
Shan is way past drunk and nearing black out territory, head resting on the counter as she giggles. Her gold jewelry clinks together whenever she moves, catching the lights sweeping through the room. Graecie’s brown hair is pulled back in a half-up half-down hairstyle, and she looks more put together than anyone besides Sausage. Apo wonders if she might actually be sober.
“Prettyyyyyyy,” Shan titters, fingers dancing around Graecie’s face. “So pretty.”
“You’ve had way too much to drink,” Graecie says, but her face is flushed. Apo revises their earlier statement: it is very possible Graecie might also be drunk. She takes Shan’s hands. “I think you should drink some water—”
“Noooooooo,” Shan whines, pouting. “You’re mean. But I like you, so it’s okay.” She twirls some of Graecie’s hair around one finger, looking up at her with lidded eyes. “Nice. Nice to me. So nice and pretty.”
Apo second guesses if they should be interrupting this, but before they can change their mind and turn away, Graecie looks up and notices them. “Oh! Hi, Apo!” she says, and they politely ignore that her face is bright pink.
“Have either of you seen Cherri?” she asks, feeling somewhat dizzy. Whatever Mae gave her must be taking effect.
Shan giggles. “Cherri…pretty. Not as pretty as Graecie.” Apo tries to ignore the jealousy that rises up in her at those words. She knows Shan is a flirty drunk. It shouldn’t bother her. Shan lifts her hand, pointing at the ceiling. It loops in lazy circles; she isn’t sober enough to keep it straight. “I saw her up there.”
Heaven? Apo wonders, followed immediately by the part of her brain not soaked in alcohol berating, No, dumbass, upstairs. “Cool, thanks,” she says, wandering away from them to let them continue flirting or…whatever it is they’re doing.
“Always so smart…” she hears Shan singsong as she goes.
Before Apo can make for the stairs, someone grabs her by the hand and starts dragging her with them. It’s the second time she’s been manhandled tonight; maybe she should start taking a shot every time it happens. Although, she’s already far gone enough that it wouldn’t really make a difference. She can barely process the person holding her hand as Katie.
“I need you to win a bet!” Katie yells, stopping them next to Nom, Kitty, and Eloise. Wait, Eloise? When did Eloise get over here? Apo cranes her neck around to look for Bek but can’t find her anywhere. Well, if she can’t find her, then it’s not her problem. She doesn’t actually care what’s happening, not when her awareness is slowly tumbling into blackout territory.
Nom gives her and Katie cans of something and holds up his car keys. Apo’s getting an idea of where this is going. She smirks, because if there’s one thing her drunk self is good at, it’s shotgunning.
“Katie versus Apo!” Nom shouts, which is unnecessary considering there’s only four people who need to hear him. “The rules are simple: you both shotgun a beer of the same size, and the loser has to do six candy shots.” Six? There’s no way Apo’s losing.
She was the one to teach 4C how to shotgun, way back during senior year of high school. Katie is going down.
Apo turns the can to the side as Kitty uses Nom’s keys to poke a hole in the metal. Katie is flush with the drinks she’s had and giddy with the spirit of competition, bouncing on her toes. Apo flashes her a grin and receives a bright smile in return as Kitty does the same with Katie’s can. Apo gets her nail under the tab, waiting for the countdown to start.
“Three!” Nom starts. Apo focuses, braces herself for what’s coming. Eloise joins in as he says “Two!” Together with Kitty, they all chorus, “One!”
Apo pries open the tab, flipping the can upside down and pressing their lips to the hole in it. Beer spills onto their face and down the front of their top, tacky and cold against their warm skin, but they ignore it. They gulp down the beer that actually lands in their mouth, swallowing it as quickly as possible. When they get a lungful of air instead of alcohol, they crush their empty can and hold it up victoriously.
Katie finishes her beer only a handful of seconds later. Eloise, Nom, and Kitty cheer, jumping up and down as Katie groans.
“Oh, Katie!” Nom sings, wearing a wicked looking smirk. “I believe that means you have to do six candy shots!” Kitty is laughing uncontrollably and Eloise looks amused as well, watching horror slowly spread across Katie’s face.
“Oh, noooooo,” she moans, stumbling over to Kitty and slumping into xer arms. “Noooooo! Kitty, I’ve fucked up! I’ve fucked up so terribly!”
“No, no,” Kitty giggles, patting Katie on the head, “it will be okay! Come on! I believe in you!”
Xe and Nom begin to pull Katie over to the bar, and Apo returns her attention to finding Cherri once again. Shan said upstairs, so Cherri must be upstairs. Not that Apo entirely trusts Shan’s drunken judgements, but she’s willing to take the chance, because Shan’s been the most helpful person all night.
Locating the stairs is hard. Getting up them is even harder, considering Apo is well past tipsy and starting to edge into wasted territory. She grips the rail with both hands, concentrating on where she’s putting her feet, and finally makes it up. She looks up in triumph. Now to find Cherri.
That part is a lot easier—she’s sitting a few feet away from Apo, one foot tucked under her and the other dangling through a gap in the railing, directly over Cam’s head. The upstairs has a hallway running the length of the house, with doors to rooms on one side and a railing on the other, allowing people to spy on whatever’s happening downstairs.
Apo feels very victorious to have found them. She’s so good at this. And…shit, Apo might just die in the hall, because Cherri looks just as beautiful as they do every time Apo finds them at one of these parties.
Pink glitter dusts their cheekbones and eyelids, making their features shimmer in the low light from downstairs, and their lips are covered in a metallic gloss. They’re wearing a low cut red top under a black leather jacket, and their hair is loose around their shoulders, catching the gleam of the light beams.
Apo wants them so badly in that moment that it nearly knocks her off balance.
“Hi,” she says, making her way over and dropping down beside Cherri. Cherri looks over, a private little spark in her eye.
“Hi,” she responds, shifting to make room for Apo. “You found me.”
“It wasn’t hard,” Apo says, ignoring just how complicated and convoluted it was. She presses their arms together between them, shoulder to elbow to wrist. It sends a little thrill though her, the heat Cherri radiates even through her jacket sleeve. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all night.”
Cherri giggles, and Apo tilts her head to catch the sight of her laughing, her eye scrunched up and her head tipped forward. She’s absolutely ethereal. Apo feels breathless and dizzy. “Yeah? Did you miss me?”
Normally, Apo would make some joke, scoff and say there’s no way, deflect it back into humor and ribbing. She doesn’t have as much control of her tongue, though, and instead what slips out is a terribly genuine, “Yes.”
Cherri’s cheeks flush red, and Apo watches with interest. It’s pretty. She’s pretty. The prettiest person at this party, perhaps in the entire world.
The thing is, Apo’s known they had a crush on Cherri since sophomore year of college. They tutored her in history, nearly seven months of reviewing wars and treaties and revolutions. Cherri had said, “It’s just a bunch of white guys fighting over land,” in a tone that said she wasn’t really joking, and Apo had laughed and agreed. It took until nearly the end of those tutoring sessions, when Cherri got her first A and had nearly jumped into Apo’s arms, hugging them and nearly buzzing with excitement, that Apo realized they liked her.
They’ve never made a move when sober, because Cherri is their best friend and they refuse to fuck up that relationship. It’s only moments like now, alcohol dulling the logical side of them and making them feel braver, that they get the urge to confess. To tell her all the things they’ve ever thought about her and see what her response is. To watch that pretty flush overtake her entire face.
Apo really wants to kiss her, but manages to catch the thought before it slips out. They can’t say that for some reason. They’re not entirely sure why, but they know they can’t.
Instead, she sways closer, pressing her face into Cherri’s side and curling up against her with a contented hum. Cherri is so warm, practically a space heater, and she’s comfortable as well. “You’re warm,” Apo murmurs, closing her eyes with a small sigh. She nestles further into Cherri, who’s gone very still.
Her laugh is low and fond, strained at the edges. Apo wonders why it would be strained, what reason she has to be upset. There’s nothing to be upset about that she can think of; she’s with Cherri, after all. Why would anything be wrong?
“You’re drunk,” Cherri says quietly, resting a hand on top of Apo’s head. Apo lets out a small whine at the contact, nudging into it, desperate for the affection. She gets clingy when she’s drunk.
They sit in silence for several minutes, Apo cuddled as close to Cherri as she can possibly get, hands gripping their top as if to get them closer. Cherri watches the party happening below, idly scratching their nails along Apo’s scalp. It’s only making her a little insane. The feeling is so much more pleasant than sober Apo would ever admit, but her drunk self has no such reserves.
“Feels good,” she mumbles happily, face still buried in Cherri’s top. They smell amazing, something sweet and spicy that might be cinnamon. It’s a smell Apo associates firmly with Cherri, and thus with warmth and comfort. Apo wants to get closer, as close as she can, wants to bond with them on a molecular level.
“What does?” Cherri asks, amused and only a little shaky.
“Scratching,” Apo hums, turning their head and peeking one lidded eye open to look at her. She stares down at them with a gentle smile, something soft and affectionate in her gaze. Her hair frames her face, and this time, Apo finds they can’t stop the thought before it tumbles out.
“Can I kiss you?”
Cherri freezes, fingers stilling in Apo’s hair. Apo blinks, pushing herself up and leaning even closer. Their faces are millimeters from each other. Apo can feel Cherri’s exhale ghost over her lips. Cherri shivers. Apo’s eyes flick from Cherri’s eye to her lips and back up. “Can I kiss you?” she repeats.
Cherri swallows hard and nods, moving forward to close the gap. Their lips meet, and Apo inhales sharply. This—she—it—Cherri is—kissing Cherri is—
It’s like nothing Apo’s ever done before, no kiss she’s ever had. She hums a happy little one-note, melts into it. Cherri’s mouth is warm, and she tastes like alcohol. Apo’s hands, already buried in her top, drag her forward until they’re flush. She kisses Cherri harder, nipping at her bottom lip, and Cherri whines, one hand coming up to grip Apo’s hair.
Apo sighs, trailing their kisses from the corner of Cherri’s mouth, along her jaw and down her neck to her collarbones, gentle and sweet. Cherri breathes out shakily, pulls them back up to meet their lips, her other hand sliding up their waist and along the exposed skin of their side from the cropped top they’re wearing.
“Cherri,” Apo breathes, words passing from her lips to Cherri’s, and presses harder into it. They’re already as close as they can be, but she tries to get them closer. Cherri whines into her mouth, and she bites their bottom lip again, making them breathe in sharply.
Cherri drags their nails along Apo’s side, and she gasps into the kiss, breathing hard. They dig their nails in harder, making her squeak. She moves away from Cherri’s lips to kiss and nip at the underside of their jaw, using her teeth to leave marks, and Cherri whines again.
“Beautiful,” Apo murmurs, barely more than a word on an exhale. “So beautiful…”
“Apo,” Cherri begs, and Apo presses their lips together again, hard and desperate and full of all the pent up want she’s been keeping in her for so long. Cherri opens her mouth to the kiss and pulls away moments later, pressing a gentle hand to Apo’s chest when she tries to follow.
Apo whines, pouting as she opens her eyes to see Cherri looking at her with a wide expression. “You’re drunk,” she says again, sounding like it’s taking all her willpower to get the words out. “I can’t—I can’t.”
“Drunk words, sober thoughts,” Apo manages, although it’s hard when she’s looking at Cherri like this, lips red and bruised from kissing Apo, marks along her jaw and neck. Apo did that. She wants to do it again, wants to kiss Cherri until she can’t remember her name.
“That’s not—” Cherri stops herself and closes her eye for a moment. “No. You’re not in your right mind right now. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
Apo frowns. It seems so simple to her: she likes Cherri, and Cherri probably likes her back, given that they kissed her and didn’t shove her away, although Apo is feeling like she might’ve missed something about the situation. “It’s not taking advantage, I want to do this,” she insists. “I don’t need to be sober to—”
“Apo,” Cherri cuts her off, tears sparkling at the corner of their eye. They even look beautiful like this, messed up from kissing and on the verge of tears. “Please,” they beg. “Not—not now.”
Apo would do anything for them, so she draws back and runs a hand through her hair, the same hair Cherri was pulling on not five minutes ago. “When?” she asks quietly.
“I—I don’t know,” Cherri admits, voice nearly cracking. They’re trying very hard not to cry right now. Apo wants to reach out and brush the tears away but figures it wouldn’t be appreciated. Their heart still aches. “Just—not when you’re drunk. Tell me when you mean it. When you’ll remember it.”
When it isn’t the drinks making your tongue looser, goes unsaid. When I can be sure you want it.
Apo nods silently, retracting herself from Cherri’s side and getting up to leave. She lingers for a moment to say, “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t—sorry.” She’s gone before Cherri has a chance to tell her she did nothing wrong, disappearing back down the stairs and into the chaos of the party.
Cherri watches her go, tears still glinting in her eyes. Once Apo is safely out of sight once more, most likely to drown their troubles in even more alcohol, she presses her hands to them, trying not to mess up her makeup. Trying to hold the sobs in.
She wants that. She wants it so badly it feels like a physical spike being driven into her heart every time she so much as looks at the other girl. Apo staring up at her from her lap, her one eye hooded and sparkling—
Cherri gave in, for a moment, before she remembered where they are and what Apo had been doing before she found Cherri. She gave in and then she stopped, pulled away. All of the times she’s imagined something similar happening, Apo did it because she wanted to. Not because alcohol was making it easier to slip out.
She watches the party, eye drawn to Apo as always, and feels the spike in her heart drive itself a little deeper, knowing what it could be like now. Cherri swallows thickly. Apo looks up, catches her eye, winks. She feels a little better for it.
They’ll talk. Eventually. When Apo is sober and Cherri isn’t tipsy, when they’re both in full control and thinking clearly. They’ll talk.