She sat beside me for a moment, hip-to-hip, and leaned in to whisper, "It's a holiday. Everyone is drinking and having fun. You're just sulking and hiding in the corner. Just take one with me, Callum. For old time's sake."

I didn't miss her infliction.

"Old time's sake means I won't be having a drink with you."

Her chin touched my shoulder. "Just one."

I inched away so her mouth wasn't close to my face. "No thank you. I appreciate the offer though."

She lifted the glass to my lips. "It won't even get you drunk. Just one."

I pushed it away. "No thanks."

She turned in to me, pressing her barely covered breasts against my arm. "Just for tonight. Come on. Just one little shot."

I had called Everly a little mouse earlier, but her groan and words were not meek in the least when she spoke up.

"He doesn't like the word "just". For the love of our Savior, pick another way to plead him into drinking with you."

Amelia stood so she could see around me. "Do I fucking know you?"

And so it began.

"No," Everly said, "I'm just trying to help you out."

I could not deny my grin.

"Well I'm doing fine, so shut up while I talk to Callum."

"Amelia," I said, "I don't want to drink, I'm not going to drink. You're wasting your time, Love. Go hang out with Noelle and drink to your heart's content. She has no problem with all the joys of being a drunken monkey. I do."

"I don't know what the big deal is," she sighed. "It's one drink. What-you think you're gonna be a drunk like your Pop because you had one little shot of Tequila?"

And. So. It. Began.

"No, I think I'm going to be like you if I have one little shot, and quite frankly, I've worked way too hard to become anything remotely resembling people like you."

"People like me? What the hell does that mean?"

"Just go back to Noelle. Please."

"No," she argued. "You tell me what that means. I sure as hell was okay to be like and to like last year . . . wasn't I? You weren't drinking so I know you can't blame it on Tequila Amnesia."

"Spell that last word for me, Love."

"You better watch your ego, Callum. That Cornell shit is going to your head."

"Yes," I chided. "I certainly wouldn't want to develop an ego that leads me to believe a skimpy bikini and an encouraging smile will change someone's moral compass. We definitely wouldn't want that. We won't even discuss the egotistical hypocrisy of flirting with me in front of the girl I brought home, for a holiday weekend."

"Noelle told me that you told her you and this girl weren't dating."

"Wow. You are a point proving champion, Amelia Vanguard."

"And you're a boring fuck." She turned away, but then glanced back. "And I mean that in every way possible."

"And you're sloppy as hell when you're fuckin' drunk." I pointed my fork at her. "And I mean that in every way possible."

She called me a "limp dick mother sheep fucker" in Italian, and then, huffed back to Noelle's side of the patio.

I laughed. "You see," I said shoving a bite of potato salad in my mouth, waving my empty fork. "This is why you don't drink and deal with your problems at the same time. You end up mutilating the beautiful language of my parent's homeland."

"What did she say?" Everly asked all Topolina-like.

"Something too impossible to be true. Because in order to be an actual mother sheep fucker, you could not, in fact, have a limp dick."