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“Her secret—” I cut myself off as Samantha slides open a desk drawer and removes a dictionary.
I raise my gaze to her expectantly. “What? Is that a hollowed-out book or something?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Take a look.”
Sparing her another glance, I slide the book in front of me and flip open the cover. “What the…?” I frown and flip a few more pages. Then a few more before lifting the book and shaking it. “It’s just a dictionary.”
“Now you have your answer.”
“But…” I shake my head. “You said there was some sort of—” I can’t help but whisper—“alcohol in here.”
“So I did.” With a little smirk, she lifts a thin piece of particle board the same color as the desk and motions toward it theatrically. “I give you Mrs. Winters’s secret stash.”
Jaw slack, I lean forward to study the contents. It’s a smorgasbord of sin. There’s a vape pen containing God knows what, an open package of Belgian chocolate truffles, and a framed photo of a well-known Hollywood silver fox.
And there, in the middle of Mrs. W’s secret stash of sin, is an open bottle of vodka.
“Whoa.” I arch an eyebrow at the still smug-looking Samantha. “Isn’t most of this illegal to have on school grounds?”
“Teachers work hard. Don’t you think they deserve to cut loose from time to time?”
“Yeah, but…” I can feel my cheeks flush at the thought of Mrs. Winters cutting loose with any combination of these items. “It’s… against the rules.”
“Are you saying you’ve never smuggled contraband on campus?”
I pull a face rather than answer. Point to Sammy. Still… “She’s a teacher.”
“So? Do you think teachers plug themselves into the wall and go into hibernation mode after the final bell rings for the day.”
I sigh. “Don’t you think she’ll notice if her vodka goes missing?”
“Oh, definitely. But if one of us sneaks back in here before school starts in the fall…” Samantha wiggles her eyebrows in that way that always makes my gut clench a little. “And replace it with something better, I think we’ll be forgiven.”
Say less. “Should we go grab more cups from the lounge?”
She shrugs. “We can drink straight from the bottle. I don’t see the point in creating more dishes than necessary. Not unless you do.”
I release a low whistle. “Every time I think I’ve figured you out…”
The smirk is back and my heart skips a beat. Where was this Samantha back in high school? Oh, there were signs of her. She was always tenacious and brilliant and beautiful. All that was missing was this playful side.
Then again, maybe it was always there. I was just too wrapped up in my own life to notice what was under the surface.
That’s a shame. A damn shame. Maybe we could have been friends all this time.
Something must register on my face because Samantha pulls back and the smile slips from those increasingly tempting lips.
“Come on.” She snags the bottle and saunters out the door. “Let’s live a little.”
* * *
A couple of hours—and countless rounds of Quarters—later, Samantha and I are both feeling loose. So loose, we’ve sprawled out on one of the library tables with a nearly empty bottle of vodka between us.
At some point, we gave up playing Quarters and turned to another drinking game popular with high school and college students looking to get blitzed.
“Okay, okay.” Samantha taps the tabletop while pursing her lips thoughtfully. “I’ve got it. Never have I ever… gone skinny dipping in the Pacific West swimming pool.”
“That was one time.” Groaning, I push myself up to a seated position and raise the bottle of vodka to my lips. “How did you even find out about it?”
