“You don’t drink?” Annabelle asks. I shake my head. “Nope, not for years.” “How come?” She tilts her head. My fingers scratch at my wrist. “Who cares?” Alex cuts in. “I don’t drink either.” My breath whooshes out, and Annabelle’s head snaps to him. “What?” His brow rises. “Is that a problem?” “N-no,” she stutters. “I just assumed, I guess. Most people do, and—” “So because most do that means everyone should?” he presses.
