�So for me and you and Sarah if she ever gets her fat ass here, we have,�
�Champagne...� I whispered.
�Gorgeous, darling,� she replied. �Gorgeous champagne. I got two bottles of the Brut, pink Korbel-le.�
The sky was pitch-black and dying above our heads, and we had champagne. Gretch waggled the bottle of 151 to get rob to get us flutes from the house.
�They�re plastic, so it�s no big thing if you break em,� he whispered. �From my cousin�s graduation party like three years ago.�
�Thanks rob,� I mock-whispered, taking them as gingerly as if they had been glass. �I promise not to break them.�
�They�re plastic,� he said flatly, as gretchen shrieked. Kyle was already pouring the rum.
�Rob, are you taking a shot or not?�
rob poured three shots� worth into a glass batman cup and drank it like juice, staring me down. gretch and I clinked plastic flutes and toasted.
�To plastic champagne flutes!�
�To bonfires!�
�To senior year!�
�To getting shitfaced,� rob shouted.
�To getting�teepsy!� gretchen said in the torch-singer voice.
Sarah walked up against the black sky, a darker black silhouette. �Are we getting drunk, kids?� she said. �Are we toasting?�
�To good champagne and bad circumstances!�
The sparks roared up and there were my seventeen years, mingling with the sky, floating into ashes that stuck in our hair.