"Don't you know how much you can drink? Do you want the designated driver to take you home while holding you in his arms when you're drunk?"
I choked on his words and didn't know what to say.
When I was with him, I pulled out a lot of tricks just to be more intimate with him.
For example, when I was a bit tipsy, I pretended to faint in his arms when he gave me a lift home and pestered him to carry me upstairs.
I pouted and turned to look out the window.
The neon lights lit up the night scene. Not long after, he started the engine, and the scenery began to change. I didn't know where we were headed at all.
In the past five years, the city had changed a lot, and most of the shops had become unfamiliar.
"You still live in Glory Garden?"
Shane looked ahead, and there was a hint of expectation in his tone that I had not noticed.
It was as if nothing had happened between us. He was simply kindly taking his drunk college classmate home.
I nodded, and then neither of us said anything again.
My favorite peppermint scent filled the air as he drove smoothly. The wine kicked off again, and I closed my eyes.
I had no idea how long it passed, and it seemed that I had a dream.