I let out a big sigh as I stare at my glass, half a liter of beer, a gift from Mark. It's a sweet gesture, and I appreciate it, but my only issue is that it's barely past 2 PM, and he's already drunk. James, next to me, is in the same boat. The day will likely end just as unpredictably as it started, or at least that's what I'm feeling right now. This whole thing was so sudden, just like Mark showing up at my apartment. He burst in out of nowhere, and although I gave him a key so he could always let himself in, I didn't think he'd actually use it. Without any warning, he came in, yelled, "I'm home!" and threw himself down in my living room, demanding that I get dressed right away because we were off to celebrate the solstice. I'd planned to cook, clean, maybe read a book, or work out, but fate doesn't care about what I had in mind for the day. And today, fate's name is Mark. On my one day off this week, I just wanted to give my soul some peace, something it hadn't felt in a while. Instead, I threw on a simple black T-shirt and jeans, tied my hair up, and without putting up a fight, told my friend we could head out.

  The walk to the festival was smooth, probably because we did it on foot. It was just the two of us for a bit, scoping out the place. Apart from the alcohol stands, tables, and chairs, the only remotely interesting thing seemed to be the face painting for the kids. We quickly realized this wasn't exactly our scene, at least not at one in the afternoon. Still, Mark looked at me and said, "Let's get started." I had no idea what he meant at first, but then he disappeared into the crowd and came back with two big mugs of beer. So, we sat down at a table, and before long, James showed up too. The three of us started drinking and chatting.

  James is unbelievable! He always seems to show up drunk, no matter the occasion. I can only imagine what state his liver must be in at this point. It disgusts me how he takes any chance he can to get wasted.

  “Guys!” William suddenly appears out of nowhere, shouting dramatically. “I found Russian twins, and I'm going to hit on them!”

  “Uh, hi, William…” I nod slightly, though he doesn't seem to notice he hadn't even greeted us.

  “Why?” Mark cuts in, a fair question. Why would anyone just walk up to strangers and try to make friends?

  “They're Russian!”

  “And?” James tilts his head.

  “Vodka!”

  “You're being so stereotypical, William!” I raise my voice a bit, but he just brushes it off. I would argue more, but he's already drunk, it's not worth it.

  “Go on then…” Mark snorts. “We'll wait here.” that was all William needed, and just as quickly as he came, he was gone. “They're going to beat him up.”

  “Obviously!” James agrees, and I nod along too. With behavior like that, he's not going to stay in one piece for long.

  “So, now what?” I ask, looking at the two guys.

  “Should we find the others?” James suggests, but Mark grimaces.

  “What others?”

  “Anyone?”

  “This vague back-and-forth is killing what's left of my brain cells.” I say as I down my beer. “You two decide. I refuse to believe the plan is to sit here all day and get smashed.”

  “Let's just stay here.” Mark responds flatly. “I don't care about seeing anyone but you guys.”

  “Well, I guess that's nice to hear... I think.” I smiled at him and pull out my wallet, handing it to him. “Could you get another round then?” he rolls his eyes, looks around, and finally sighs.

  There are way too many people around, which is exactly why I don't feel like embarking on this drink-fetching mission myself. Finally, Mark gets up, drains his glass, and though a bit wobbly heads off on his quest.

  “I bet he trips.” I say.

  “You're on.” James replies, fidgeting with his empty glass. “By the way, there are even more people near the stage.”

  “There's a stage?”

  “Next to the free cotton candy.”

  “Hold up, what? Free cotton candy?!” I slam the table in disbelief. My unexpected reaction gets an even more unexpected laugh out of James.

  “Yeah, you know, by the food stalls…”

  “James, seriously, stop messing with me! In which pajamas did you dream of this? I don't believe you… You're drunk!”

  “The race car ones.” before I can react, William reappears with a massive bottle in hand, and both James and I stare in disbelief. I can't believe it. “Maybe I really am dreaming… Are you kidding me? That's water, right? No way!”

  “Mission accomplished, assholes.”

  “No way!” I echo as I reach for the bottle. William hands it over willingly. I unscrew the cap of the half-full bottle and take a deep sniff. My expression gives it away to James it's legit. He really did it. It's vodka.

  “What the hell…” Mark walks up to the table, sets down the beers, and snatches the bottle from me, taking a whiff. “Screw you, William.”

  “I'm a God, I know. Don't thank me all at once for getting you a free trip to the detox ward.” he thumps his chest and sits down across from me, next to James. Mark sits back down beside me. “So, how's this gonna go? Pass the bottle, or maybe a little pyramid game?”

  “I'm out, thanks.” I raise my beer, signaling I'm good with what I've got.

  “What's pyramid?” James asks, slurring his words a bit.

  “I take a sip, Mark takes two, you take three, Nina takes four.”

  “Then you take five, and so on, until we all puke our guts out. No, thanks!” I argue, but no one seems to care. They start the game anyway.

  Even though I'm not into it, I take a few sips from the bottle here and there. By the time I feel I've had enough, I push the flask away and hand my beer to James. Responsible drinking is something many in my circle don't quite get.

  The conversation continues, and night falls. The vodka-beer combo hits William hard, and he eventually admits that he didn't get the vodka as a gift, he just swiped it from a table. James confesses that he had a feeling, knowing William couldn't possibly charm anyone into giving him free booze that fast. I feel a twinge of disgust, but I'm too drunk to express it.

  “I want a smoke.” I say. Before I've even finished the sentence, James pulls out a pack and gestures for me to help myself, not expecting that I'd take not just one, but three.

  “That's it, I'm out of cigarettes!” he pockets the pack with a blatant lie, we all know it's still half full.

  “Got a lighter, though?”

  “Ahh! Next to you guys, it'll grow legs and jump into one of your pockets.”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about.” William raises an eyebrow, lighting his cigarette with James' old lighter in the same motion. We all know that lighter is never going to make its way back to any of us, he's the one lighting the cigarettes, leaning across the wooden table to do it.

  As the nicotine floods my lungs, mixing with the alcohol in my veins, it brings a strange new sensation to my body. A new, unfamiliar voice speaks up inside me: I want cotton candy. But I don't dare tell the guys. Neither of them looks capable of walking two feet in a straight line, so I keep quiet and listen to James' ramblings. It suddenly hits me how uncomfortable it is to realize that these guys aren't going to sober up, they'll only get more out of it, duller, as the drinks keep flowing while we talk. How am I supposed to get cotton candy like this?

  I give my face a little slap to snap myself out of it and get up so quickly that everyone looks at me.

  “Where's the cotton candy stand?” I ask James, and instead of answering, he just points in a direction.

  “Don't point!” William smacks his hand. “Someone might take it personally, and we'll end up in a fight.”

  “Then we'll fight!” James shrugs like it's the most natural thing in the world. I can't listen to this any longer, so I climb out from behind the table and head off in the direction James indicated.

  I hear Mark shout from somewhere behind me to wait up, but I wave him off. I'm still feeling okay, I can walk in a straight line unlike him, so he can stay put. As I walk deeper into the crowd, it's much busier, and I can hear the music and the amateur performers. I can't believe we didn't notice the giant tent when we first walked around the place! A sigh escapes me as I weave through the crowd, frustrated by how oblivious I was earlier. My blurred vision makes it take a little longer to find the food stalls, but when I finally spot the cotton candy stand, I'm both excited and disappointed at the same time. The line is huge... It's now or never! It'll only get worse later, so I take my place and cross my arms.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  People are leaving behind me, and more are lining up in front of me, and suddenly someone bumps into me hard, pressing me up against a guy so tight there's barely any space between us. I instinctively place one hand on his shoulder to steady myself and reach for his arm with the other. Sensing the situation, he places his hands on my waist and pulls me closer to protect me. Our eyes meet for a fleeting moment, and when I recognize those steel-blue eyes, that sharp jawline, and his wicked smile, I gasp for breath. He raises his eyebrows for a split second in silent greeting, and I hide my face against his shoulder until the crowd thins out.

  It's only a few seconds, but it feels like hours. His pleasant scent and the softness of his skin against my nose create an euphoria I've never felt before. I just want to drink in his smile and steal the shine from his eyes because every time I see them, I'm overwhelmed by warmth, and I have no idea what my next move should be. Maybe that's why I'm scared to look at him, I don't want to be an open book, though my feelings are all over my face. The sudden panic triggers an unexpected reaction, and I push Dante away, fixing my brown hair. I can feel my pupils dilating, like the alcohol-induced blur in my vision sharpened the moment he got close. I don't even know why I'm acting like this around him. I don't know him, I can't be in love.

  “What the… Get away from Nina!” An all-too-familiar voice snaps me out of it, and my mouth falls open at the sound of a punch landing. It all happens in a split second, William's fist seems to find Dante's face as attractive as I do, because if not, they wouldn't have collided like that.

  “William… You! Damn!” I stammer, giving him a shove in my shock. “Jesus!” I bend down to check on Dante, who's groaning with his face in his hands, clearly dizzy. He's not getting up or swinging back.

  “You knew him? Whatever… I just brought your wallet back. Mark's going home, James vanished with some girl, and I'm taking that idiot back.” I'm too stunned to respond properly, just accepting my wallet as William walks off like he's done his good deed for the day, leaving Dante behind.

  “Come on, get up…” I gently pull one of his hands from his face and help him to his feet. I guide him to a table with my arm around his waist to see how bad it is. Once he sits down, he lets me check his injuries. Blood's gushing from his nose, and his lip is split too. William's a beast, but you can't hunt him down!

  I pull out a tissue from my pocket so Dante doesn't have to keep holding the blood with his hand, and he presses it against his nose. His eyes, filled with tears, look up at me, and my heart breaks in two. I never want to see him like this again, even if the punch is the only thing that made him tear up. Once the bleeding stops, I lean in closer. His skin's barely scratched, and maybe he just burst a vessel from the hit. His lip isn't split open, just a little cut.

  I pull another tissue from my pocket and gently wipe the blood from his lips, softly stroking his skin, unable to take my eyes off his mouth. Looking closer... his lips are seriously tempting. I suddenly want to taste them, to bite them gently and pull him toward me, only to crash into him with a fiery kiss. Just the thought of it makes my throat dry. I swallow instinctively and glance up into Dante's eyes. His face is flushed, and his steel-blue eyes seem to shimmer even brighter. He can't hold eye contact for long.

  I lean in, ready to give in to my desires, but then the sound of someone clearing their throat pulls me back to reality. I step away from Dante, and he turns toward the noise: it's James, arms crossed, staring at us angrily.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Yes, or no!” I blurted out, quickly correcting myself. The alcohol's really messing with my head. I almost kissed someone I don't even know!

  “Sorry my buddy knocked you out. I'm James.” James says, introducing himself politely to Dante. Dante wipes his bloody hand on his black jeans before shaking James' hand.

  “Dante. I'm fine. And no worries, or… yeah, it's all good.” he stumbles over his words a bit, searching for the right ones. “It's nice to see that Nina's so well looked after.”

  “I mean, that's kind of natural…” James gives me a quick smile before turning back to Dante. “Need me to call an ambulance? Or how about I buy you a beer?” how do those two things even go together?!

  “I'm driving, and I'm fine, really… It's all good.”

  “Who'd you come with?” right, we're not in Vernon.

  “Christopher and Peter. I lost them near the stage… I was actually looking for them when I saw you and was about to come over, but then we got shoved together.

  “I'm sorry.” I hang my head in shame, even though it wasn't really my fault. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I still feel guilty.

  “Don't apologize, it happened.” he reaches for my hand, but then glances at James for a second and decides to just take the tissue from me instead to wipe his mouth.

  “Mind if I join you guys? That girl ran off with some rich dude…”

  “Sure! I'll grab us some beers.” I'm about to stand, but Dante's faster.

  “No, I'll get them.” he jumps up suddenly. Both James and I widen our eyes in surprise. The guy just got knocked down, but he's still offering to buy us drinks? Either way, Dante walks over to a nearby stand, and James and I sit down properly at the table.

  “So, Nina…”

  “Yeah?” I ask, knowing that tone all too well.

  “Got something you want to tell me?”

  “No, thanks.” I flash him a smile like a crazy person, and he snorts.

  “Since when?”

  “Since when what?”

  “Don't play dumb! You're in love!” his last words are whispered, shoulders tense. I don't even know how to respond to the accusation. Me? In love? Yeah, right…

  “You're an idiot if you seriously think that. I'm not in love!”

  “Does Mark know?”

  “Of course he knows I'm NOT in love.”

  “Ahh, you're so… Clueless when it comes to emotions!”

  “How are your bitches?” I fire back, and he immediately goes quiet, looking away with a laugh. As he should… He can't talk to me about feelings when he's out there sleeping with anyone without love. James takes a deep breath and slams the table so hard that my heart skips a beat before relaxing again.

  “By the way! Is your dad a window?” his question leaves me totally confused, which makes him grin. “Because you're so damn transparent!”

  “"A glassmaker", you idiot!” I laugh, not in the least bit ladylike, as I cover my face while my friend makes weird noises, still mocking me.

  Dante finally returns, and he's not alone! Chris and Peter -who I had the pleasure of meeting during one of our pub crawls- are with him. Dante's holding two plastic cups, placing one in front of James and the other next to me before sitting down beside me. The other two guys don't sit right away. They introduce themselves to James, do the whole polite routine, and then take their seats.

  Peter's long black hair is tied back in a ponytail, and he's wearing a blue shirt and denim shorts. Despite the humid weather, Christopher's in a sweatshirt and jeans, and while we're at it, Dante's looking elegant as usual. His black pants fall neatly over his white tank top, which, by the way, is now speckled with bloodstains. His black shirt hangs loosely over his shoulders, accentuating his gorgeous eyes. Honestly, this guy's mere existence puts me in a state of total awe.

  “I was gonna text to see if you guys were here, but Mark didn't answer, and I don't have your number.” Chris explains, and I smile instantly.

  “Yeah, we haven't really checked our phones since we got here.”

  “We've been more interested in the bottom of our glasses.” James adds. He's got a point, I haven't even touched the beer I got yet, and I still haven't thanked Dante.

  “I'm grateful for you… or, I mean, the beer. You know what I mean.” I stammer, my words tumbling over themselves, and Dante just laughs awkwardly, his hand briefly brushing my leg.

  “Don't worry, I get it. You're welcome.”

  “Haven't you had anything to drink?” Peter asks, noticing Dante's flushed face.

  “Why?” Dante shoots back.

  “You're looking pretty red, bro.” Chris chimes in, raising an eyebrow. Dante lets out another nervous chuckle.

  “Come on, it's just… My blood pressure. You know, I got hit earlier.” he reminds them of the incident. I guess he must have mentioned it already.

  “Sure, sure.” Peter waves it off, and Dante glances at me, then quickly redirects his gaze to the crowd.

  James stays quiet, trying not to draw much attention to himself. He always gets like this, shutting down, and it's obvious to everyone else too, not just me. Dante's the only one trying to change that.

  “Do you smoke? Want a cigarette?” Dante asks, surprising James again.

  “I do, but I've got some.” James backs up his words by pulling out a pack and sticking a cigarette between his lips, then offers one to me. He still doesn't have a lighter, but instead of borrowing from William this time, it's Dante who hands him one.

  "Why's he trying so hard to get on your good side?" James asks me with just his eyes. We've gotten pretty good at reading each other with just a glance.

  "I have no idea, but I think it's weird too." I signal back, to which he responds with a sarcastic smile.

  "He likes you." he adds with a look. This time, I have no response. I look away and take a sip of my beer, but soon enough,

  I'm watching Dante again as he smokes. James is wrong most of the time, rarely right. But now, with the alcohol coursing through my veins, I wish he were right. Sober me wouldn't feel this way. I don't even know Dante's full name! But when I have a drink in hand, I'm drawn to him like a magnet. I feel hypnotized, and the worst part is, it's so obvious I can't even hide it from James. He shakes his head while sipping his drink. People try to make conversation with him, but they're not on the same wavelength at all. In fact, I can see from his expression that there's no way he's opening up to any of them. He whispers to me now and then, completely ignoring the others, which seems to push Peter and Chris over the edge. The next thing I know, they're asking James to show them all the stalls in the open area.

  That leaves me alone with Dante again. I glance up at him, and he flashes a soft smile on his flawless face, which makes me instantly look away, embarrassed.

  “I know I bought you a drink, but maybe you shouldn't have anymore.” He says.

  “You don't want me to drink more?”

  “Even if I walk you home, it's better if you're somewhat coherent.” Too late, I'm already drunk enough that even breathing feels like a chore.

  I feel Dante's warm fingers on my face, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear as his eyes study me. If the alcohol didn't already make me blush, this definitely does.

  “You're so red, you really shouldn't drink anymore.”

  “Alright, I won't.” I say, sitting up straight and fixing my hair myself. I'm completely falling apart, both emotionally and physically. But at least I can't blame myself for the mental mess I'm in, it's entirely this guy's fault.

  He doesn't respond to my compliance with his "order," just takes a deep breath and rests his elbows on the table, looking in the direction the others left. I can't lean back on these benches, and lying on the table would be rude, but the alcohol's weighing me down. Maybe it's the drink or the whirlwind of emotions, but I grab Dante's hand and lift his arm so I can lean against his chest to rest for a bit.

  His pulse shoots up, and I can't help but smile. Did I cause that? Why do I suddenly feel such a surge of serotonin? Unfortunately, my rest doesn't last long, because the others come back within a few minutes, and we return to our original positions: me leaning on the table, Dante propped up on one elbow.

  “Hey Nina, check out this photo I took.” James says as he sits beside me.

  I glance curiously at his phone, but there's no photo, just a messenger chat window with an unsent message.

  "His hands were shaking when he tried to hug you, but we came back before he could. I'm telling you, he really likes you."

  “Well, this… is a beautiful picture, James.”