Rivals
my mom replied and I shook my head sideways like she could see me.
“No, no, it’s fine. Really. We have food, money, no adults to supervise us and we’re dropping by the supermarket to grab some whiskey on our way back home. Woo-hoo, woo-hoo!”
“No supermarket will sell alcohol to you. You’re eighteen.”
“I have a fake ID,” I replied and Dia and Abigail shot me a look that said ‘really?’ while mom let out an exasperated sigh.
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