“Happy Birthday, Orls. I’m so sorry we’re late—”

“Connie, I know.” She rolled her eyes playfully before letting me go, to greet the girl in question. “Wow, you look amazing!”

“As always.” Connie smirked and dumped her bags to the floor. “I see you had no worries getting started without us.”

“We just had a few glasses while we waited,” she explained. “Alex and Connie, you guys are gonna take the guest room in the attic, Molly’s sharing with me. Throw your bags upstairs and then hurry up and drink something before the taxi gets here!”

Connie had purchased a large quantity of alcohol from her sister Emily a few weeks back that still continued to serve us, and all of their parents kept a healthy stock of spirits and wine in their unlocked alcohol cabinets. Connie’s house had a wine cellar too, she claimed, though none of us would ever see it. Eventually, we moved on to playing a few rounds of Kings, and Molly downed the King Cup in the first round, a mediocre mix of vodka, coke and cider, while Connie lost the second. We turned to Never Have I Ever, next, at Connie’s request.

“Never have I ever done drugs,” Orla said. “Apart from weed.” Nobody drank.

“Never have I ever been called to the office in school,” Molly said. We all drank.

“Never have I ever had sex,” I said. The others all drank.

“Seriously, Alex? Never?”

“Nope.”

“Well, what about sexual stuff?”

“They can be separate questions,” Connie interrupted. With a wicked glint in her eyes, she bit back a smirk. “Never have I ever fancied somebody that no one else knows about.”

I stole a quick glance around the room. Molly appeared to deliberate for a short moment before placing her drink back on the floor, and I realized that Connie was watching me. Reluctantly, I took a sip. The edges of her lips curled into a sardonic smile before she threw back a sip, too.

“Never have I ever done stuff,” Orla said. I rolled my eyes.

“I haven’t done anything. Don’t waste your go trying to catch me out on something stupid.”

Molly pouted, her lower lips curling upwards. “You’re no fun, Ryan. Never have I ever been a stuck-up prude.”

“Oh, come on. That’s hardly fair, I mean it’s completely subjective—”

“Just drink,” Connie sighed, rolling her eyes. “Never have I ever lied to someone in this room.”

All of us drank. Connie met my gaze, her expression triumphant. I cocked an eyebrow in her direction, while she merely glanced away.

“I can’t think of anything to ask.”

“That’s because you’re a stuck-up prude.”

“Piss off, Molly. My mind is just blank.” I continued to think, trying to come up with a good enough question to keep from being mocked, before the doorbell rang.

“The taxi!” Orla screamed. The remaining bottles were stashed away in handbags and coat pockets before we were ushered out the door and into the car awaiting us outside.