"Welcome home, bitch," I shout, attempting to be heard over the pulsing beat of techno music as we clink our shots of Fireball together and toss them back. The cinnamon-flavored liquor burns a fiery trail down my throat, killing any bacteria in its path.
"Holy shit, that's terrible!" I sputter, coughing as tears gather in my eyes. "No more shots. I'm tapping out."
She laughs and orders another round.
Alyssa is in her element, chatting with friends who have shown up to celebrate her return to Wesley. For the festivities, she bought a short sparkly silver dress that clings to every curve. Her hair has been curled and left loose so it can float around her bare shoulders. The girl looks seriously hot. And I'm not the only one who thinks so either. There's been a ton of guys sniffing around, and she's been flirting with all of them.