levorta

“What is this?” Junie asked, peering into the pink mug. The liquid was a golden amber, quite like gasoline. With the way it stung the depths of her sinuses, maybe it was.

“A mint tea because it was the only goddamn tea bag I could find. Your kitchen is very confusing,” Marc said, sitting down on the armchair next to her with a exhausted flourish. “It’s got lemon, honey, salt, and whiskey.”

“Ah, you’ve made me a cocktail.” She muttered, swishing the liquid around. To be completely honest, she was disappointed. Marc had been in the kitchen for what seemed like hours making a tea that was sure to make her cold grow legs and walk away. This would only burn her throat and stomach.

“I’m not 21 yet, Marc.” She sighed, leaning over to put the mug on the coffee table.

“You’re 19, am I supposed to believe you haven’t drank yet?” He scoffed, raising a brow. Junie stared at him, shrugging at the fact that she was a mother-fearing kind of gal. He made a face at her.

“You’re the lamest teenager I’ve ever met. Drink up.”