(Malory)
There’s a large, round, black forest cake, already sliced into pieces, sitting on the table. There are so many bottles of beer and vodka and juice that I can already see the hangover everyone’s going to have when this is all over. I don’t want to be a part of the drunkenness. At least not this time.
We’re all sitting around the dining room table –usually empty and quiet unless my mom is home- and we’re playing a game. We’re playing ‘Most Likely.’
“Most likely to dump a girl and then call her up for a one night stand –and have her accept it,” Ron says.
Olivia laughs. “Why do I feel like that’s you?”
“No way,” Ron says, offended.
Ron, Olivia and I point to Kyle.
“What?” he asks, “Seriously?”
Yes, seriously, Murderer.
“You have to drink, Kyle. Take the drink, Davidson, take the drink,” Ron says, hanging him a plastic cup full of vodka and orange juice.
Kyle takes it. “Fiiiine.”