And the whole time, people kept refilling my cup. Determined not to look like an idiot again, I kept drinking until I could finally take the vodka down without coughing or spitting. I stood, finding it much harder to do than I'd expected. The world wobbled, and my stomach wasn't very happy with me. Someone caught a hold of my arm and steadied me.
"Easy," said Sydney. "Don't push it." Slowly, carefully, she led me toward the house.
"God," I moaned. "Do they use that stuff as rocket fuel?"
"No one made you keep drinking it."
"Hey, don't get preachy. Besides, I had to be polite."
"Sure," she said.
