Shwoop.
Buzzzz. SEAN MILLS.
In Kals closet Can I come out yet?
I type back: NO!!!! Her bro is still here!
Shwoop.
Buzzzz. SEAN again.
Where RU?
I text back: I’m upstairs too. In guest rm closet! HA! Great minds think alike
Shwoop.
Buzzzz. SEAN.
Not alike enough. Ur so close but so far away. I’ll find you
I text back: OMG PLZ DON’T GET CAUGHT!
Shwoop.
My heart picks up the pace and I fan myself with the neckline of my collar. After five minutes or so I hear loud footsteps and the closet door jerks open.
“Anyone in here?” It’s Kyle’s voice. I stop breathing and moving. The door closes and the footsteps fade away. About two minutes later, the door swooshes open again and then a whisper.
“Breeze?”
“Sean?” I whisper back.
“No, it’s Brian. I think you’re hot for a high schooler and came to play seven minutes in heaven.”
I stifle a giggle.
“I’m back here,” I whisper, “around the corner behind the coats.”
“Scoot over smalls,” Sean whispers, his hand gliding down my bare arm. “Nice hiding spot.”
“You were so close to getting caught. Kyle was here like two seconds ago.”
“Yeah, I know. I heard him coming and literally dove under the bed. Dude, this closet smells like my grandma’s house—sad thing is, it’s also about the same size as her entire house.”
“So, about that seven minutes in heaven?” I tap my wrist although I’m not wearing a watch and it’s pitch-black in here.
Sean’s hand travels up my arm, over to my sides. His fingers graze my face and then his lips are on mine. The scent of him—sandalwood and faintly, Kallie’s punch, dizzies me. I kiss him back until my breathing starts to get maybe too loud for the closet. Exhaling, I lean away and reach into my bag for the wine.
“Look what I got.” I hold up the bottle.
“I can’t see. What is it?”
“Wine. Want some?” I ask.
“You brought wine?” His phone clicks and he holds the screen, shining a faint light onto the bottle. “Nice label. ‘Black Heart, Red Ruby Wine.’ Scandalous. I thought you didn’t drink.”
“Touché. I don’t usually drink. But when I do, I drink wine. In closets.” I twist the cork but it doesn’t budge.
“Hold up the light on your phone,” I tell Sean. He clicks the light on and I give the cork a twist and hard pull until it finally pops out with a plunk. I take a swig. It’s cool, then warm going down my throat into my stomach. “Whew. That’s kinda strong. But not terrible. Want some?”
“Sure,” says Sean, putting his hand over mine, then taking the bottle. Are we going to play a drinking game?”
“Well, since watching people play beer pong all night did get a little boring, I might be up for it.”
“Mostly boring,” says Sean. “But how funny was it when Justin and Molly lost and had to jump in the lake?”
“Almost as funny as watching Kallie going hard core PDA with Todd whenever Molly was within four feet. Even though Molly doesn’t seem to care anymore. I’m so glad Jane didn’t show up. That would’ve made for an even more awkward addition to the Todd love triangle. Or square or whatever shape it is these days.”
Sean passes the bottle back and I swallow another sip of wine. “Tastes like bitter grapes and tree bark.” My lips pucker. “It’s not that bad, really.”
“You’re not that bad.” Sean says and kisses me again.
“You’re not either,” I murmur into his mouth.
His lips slide over mine, then he runs his tongue over my lips. “Mm. This is the best seven minutes in heaven slash drinking game ever.”
“Let’s play a real game,” I say, taking another sip. “Tell me something about you I don’t know. Like a secret, a weird hobby, or a funny story and I’ll do the same.”
“I’m interested,” says Sean. “But where’s the game—the challenge?”
“That’s all I got. You’re the football game guy. You make up the rules.”
“No problem. I got this. So, you give me the number one, two, or three, and that’s how many points—how many drinks the story or secret is worth. If I tell you, you’ll take that many drinks. If I don’t, I have to drink and then it’s your turn.”
“You’re on. But you’re going down Mills, you’re going down.” I stifle a giggle and a joke that’s more appropriate for me and Kallie. “Okay, I’ll go first.” I hand him the bottle. “How many?”
“One.” Sean says.
“One point, one drink? That’s all?” I ask.
“Didn’t you say you got sick last time you drank? We can’t have you hurling in a closet. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck in here.”
“Good call. I won’t have to drink anyway, a one pointer is easy. Let’s see. Oh yeah, I stole makeup from the grocery store when I was in sixth grade.” I hear Sean swallow a drink and he passes me the bottle.
“Wow, you’re a wild one. Can’t believe I’m hanging out with a criminal.”