Rekindling Old Flames
So naturally, the girls and I came to the club.
“Let her drink, Camila. She needs it,” Tamara says, collecting the shot from Camila and handing it back to me. I down it in one go and bite into a lime immediately after. The liquor burns my throat on the way down, but it’s nothing compared to the pain in my shattered heart.
“You know it won’t help her forget about him,” Camila argues.
“For now, it will,” Tamara quips back.
“Who wants to dance?” I ask, playing with the shot glasses littering the table. “Why are there so many?” Staring, I tilt my head to the side. I’m definitely wasted, because I’m seeing about fifty shots glasses currently.
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