The cool night air lingered as we approached Zaya's car, the faint scent of flowers from my mom's garden mixing with the distant hum of crickets.
I was more than ready to leave after the chaotic evening inside. My face still burned from Alicia's truth-or-dare question, and Zaya's smug smile wasn't helping.
We were almost at the car when my mom's voice cut through the quiet.
"Layla!" she called, stepping out onto the porch with her hands on her hips.
I winced, turning to face her. "Yes, Mamá?"
"It's late, and you've both been drinking. You shouldn't drive. Stay here tonight," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
I glanced at Zaya, who raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "We're fine," I started, but my mom waved a hand dismissively.
"Nonsense. You can sleep in your old room," she said, a smile tugging at her lips. "I'll get the bed ready."
I sighed, realizing there was no getting out of this. "Fine."