He looked up at me. “Hey, Tessa. Glad you could make it,” he said with a grin. His dimples made him look more charming than he actually was.
He hadn’t said anything to Rosalyn, and by the look she gave him, she was pissed. I so didn’t want to get in the middle of that.
“How about a proper welcome to Texas? Take a shot of tequila.”
Rosalyn dropped my arm and stepped back. I glanced at her, and she shrugged. “Go ahead.”
At that the other three boys who were lined up for a shot looked at me. My palms started sweating. I’d never taken one. I’d never even had a drop of alcohol before. Would it make me act stupid? Or worse—would my visions go crazy?
That was not appealing at all.
Finding a way to be normal was my goal here. I snatched the glass that Carlos held out for me with my gloved hand.
“We take ‘em Texas style here,” he said.
I gave my best fake-confident smile. “Okay. What exactly does that mean?”
“Here, let me show you. Take off your glove.”
There was no way I wanted to do that, but I’d already committed.
As soon as the glove was off, he grabbed my hand and, looking me straight in the eye, licked it.
I was instantly drowning in his hormones.
Glimpses of half-dressed girls. Moans echoed in the backseat of his car. Flashes of wet skin.
As soon as he dropped my hand, I was back in my own body. I grabbed onto the counter as the dizziness faded. That was the fifth time I’d been in the backseat of Carlos’ car this week, thankfully never in my own body. I made a promise to myself to keep it that way.
The wet streak glistened on my hand. Was that supposed to be sexy?
He grabbed a saltshaker and put some onto the wet spot.
Oh no. Please don’t mean what I think that means.
He reached down to a bowl of sliced limes, and handed me one. I took it with my gloved hand.
“All right. So, we motion up and say, ‘Por arriba.’ That means for above. Then we motion down and say, ‘Por abajo.’ For below. Then we motion out and say, ‘Por alcentro.’ For the center. Then we say, ‘Por aldentro.’ For inside. And then lick the salt, take the shot, and suck on the lime. In that order. Got it?”
I nearly rolled my eyes. Most people heard my last name and just assumed I was white, but my mother was Mexican. Thanks to her I could speak Spanish.
“Lo entiendo, chavo.”
Carlos’ face went blank for a second. “You Latin?”
I nodded. “My mother is. So, yes.”
“Cool.” He paused. “What’s chavo mean?”
Christ. With a name like Carlos Rodriguez and his explaining of how to take the shot, I totally thought he spoke Spanish. “It means dude. I said I understand it, dude.”
“Sweet.”
“Yup.” But still I wished I didn’t have to eat spit-salt.
“You know you don’t have to do this. They’re just stupid boys,” Rosalyn said. She crossed her arms.
Fantastic. She had to say that after I said I’d do it. There was no backing down now, not without looking like an idiot.
Damn it. I was already an idiot. Her boy had been a little flirty with me and now she wanted me to make a fool of myself. I should’ve noticed before I agreed to the shot. “No, I’ve got it.” I tried to keep my hand steady as I held the tiny glass.
“Whatever,” she said as she started to inspect her manicure.
“All right, everyone. Shots at the ready,” Carlos lifted up his shot glass in salute.
“Ready!” the boys yelled.
“Por arriba. Por abajo. Por alcentro. Por aldentro.” I said with the boys, then quickly licked the salt, forcing myself not to grimace as a new flash of visions burned my brain courtesy of Carlos. I drank the shot in one swallow, and tried to ignore the burning in my throat as I shoved the sour lime in my mouth with my gloved hand.
That wasn’t so bad.
The boys laughed, and one gave me a high five as I put my discarded lime on the counter.
“Good work,” Carlos said.
“Thanks.” Smiling back at him, I finally felt the confidence I’d been faking. I could do this. I could be one of them. I could control my visions and come off as cool. As normal. I was totally rocking it.
Chapter Eight
“Oookay. Well, thanks for that Carlos.” Rosalyn’s words were clipped, bringing me crashing back down to reality.
That was nice while it lasted. I shook my head as I pulled on my glove. I’d have lost with her either way I played it. I was going to have to figure out who I wanted to be actual friends with and fast. Keeping up with Rosalyn and her mood swings was enough to drive anyone mad.
Rosalyn held up two fingers. The boy closest to the keg grabbed two red plastic cups and started filling them with beer. Being totally underage, I had no idea what my limit was in terms of alcohol, but I was going to have to watch it. I wanted to blend in, not end up like Jess.