Dylan and I walk down Duval Street, knowing it has the best nightlife near the hotel. We’ve learned a cab ride back is cheap since most of the bars are within walking distance, but when you’re tipsy and can’t walk straight, it feels like miles.
“Don’t forget our deal,” Dylan reminds me as if I need reminding.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
He slaps a hand on my shoulder. “Good. Don’t forget the code word either.” He flashes a s**t-eating smirk.
We head into the bar we’ve visited the last couple of nights and order our first round of beers. The streets are packed with tourists, and my hope for seeing River again diminishes.
“Hey, mates!” Liam, a guy we met the other night, greets us just as we order our second round. He has a girl hanging off his arm tonight, though. He’s from Sydney, which was
