As the night wore on, Tara wondered how she’d manage to get Amanda home before midnight, but she needn’t have worried. Before long, the girls were staggering off the dance floor to collapse into their chairs, still clutching beer bottles and shot glasses. “Another round!” someone called out, her voice slurred.
But the waitress shook her head, and the manager himself had to go over to tell them they were cut off. Amanda threw her credit card at him in a huff. “f**k this,” she muttered. “The night’s still young. Am I right?”
“Ride or die!” Marlene hollered.
At the bar, Tara shook her head. “What’s that even mean?” she asked no one in particular.
Delaney wasn’t too far away, ringing up the tab. She flashed Tara a smile. “Don’t forget about me now, you hear?”
“Oh, I’m coming right back,”
