The crowd near the beer pong table remained thick, making it difficult to push through directly. Kaitlyn began to skirt around its edge as she thought through what to say.

  Let's see… I can probably just introduce myself as a friend of Ryan's or something. That, or just talk about the game. As long as I'm careful not to get dragged into one myself—I'm nowhere near good enough to survive that. Especially if I'm trying to exercise restraint—

  "Heard you talkin' shit over here, Vinny!"

  Kaitlyn stumbled slightly as someone bumped into her from behind. Looking around, she saw the flamingo shirt guy push past her, shouldering through the crowd as though it didn't exist.

  The cocky male lead looked over his shoulder, turning around to face the newcomer with a sneer. "You callin' it talk? That's real funny. Cuz I'm pretty sure it's a fact I can beat your ass any day."

  A chorus of "oooh's" rose up from the watching bystanders. They began chanting, egging the pair on as they sensed a conflict brewing. Flamingo guy cracked his knuckles. "Better watch out before I feed that shit right back to you. Get over there, we're doin' this."

  The two guys took up positions on opposite sides of the table, setting up for another game. The sight made Kaitlyn wilt.

  Well, shoot. Guess he's gonna be busy for a while, then…

  Kaitlyn gave a resigned sigh, looking around the party once more. Now that her initial plan had been thwarted, she might as well go grab a drink. It wasn't like she had much else to do. She'd just have to find him after.

  Shrugging, she turned back toward the round table. Glass bottles, plastic jugs, and red cups formed miniature cities all around it, their based accentuated by a few small spills. Judging by the paper towels nearby, someone was still making an effort to clean them up—at least, for the moment.

  Her gaze roved over the options. Let's see… We've got plenty of booze. Rum, vodka, tequila… they've even got some cheap whiskeys, looks like. What about mixers?

  A quick scan revealed a surprising number of them. Orange juice, pineapple juice, lemon-lime soda, and cola all had been brought out for the occasion. There was even a small bowl of lime wedges near the center of the table. Most of the jugs remained relatively full, as most people here seemed to prefer straight shots over mixed drinks. Still, that just meant she didn't have to feel bad about using them.

  I'm feeling something a bit fruity right now. Let's see what we can do…

  She grabbed the rum, pouring a conservative amount into a fresh cup. Then, she added splashes of the two juices, trying to balance them against each other.

  Making drinks like this felt a lot less intimidating than it once had. In many ways, alcohol had kind of lost its forbidden allure for her. That wasn't to say she was completely desensitized to its consequences—being a lightweight made sure of that—but she'd still become more comfortable with the casual illegality of college parties than expected.

  It's not just peer pressure, either. I think it has to do with my mental age. Technically, I've lived through more than enough loops to be twenty-one. WAY more.

  Of course, that argument would crumple like a wet paper towel if she ever tried to use it. In fact, she was pretty sure it was a quick way to convince someone that she was insane and dig herself into an even deeper hole, as far as trouble was concerned. But it made her feel a bit better.

  In fact, if we go by life experience, I'm probably… She stopped pouring. Geez, has it really been thirteen years?

  Kaitlyn quickly double checked the numbers in her head. Thirteen years of time loops, plus the eighteen years old she'd already been before getting transported into the game… By that logic, she was mentally about thirty-one.

  That's… disturbing. She shuddered at the thought. Something about it just feels… yuck. I certainly don't FEEL like I'm thirty one, at least.

  It just reinforced her decision to keep moving forward instead of taking a rest loop. If anything, it made her feel even more motivated. There was no way in hell she wanted to spend over half her life in this game—something that would only become more probable the more she waited.

  Setting those troubling thoughts aside, Kaitlyn squeezed a bit of lime into her cup and took another sip. It had taken a few adjustments to get the ratios quite right. But when she was done, she ended up with a pleasantly tropical blend of flavors with an undercurrent of coconut rum tying it all together. The taste brought a smile to her face.

  Wow. I'm honestly kinda proud of that one. I'll have to remember the recipe…

  "Hey! You makin' drinks?"

  Kaitlyn looked over in surprise as a slightly inebriated brunette addressed her. The girl wore tight jeans and a rather low-cut tank top that left surprisingly little to the imagination as she leaned on the table.

  "Uh, kind of?" Kaitlyn wasn't exactly sure how to respond. "I just made one for myself, really."

  "Can you make me one, too?"

  "I mean… sure, why not?" She shrugged, extending a hand to accept the girl's empty cup. It wasn't like she had too much else to do. She might as well.

  She recreated her recipe—with far fewer adjustments this time—and stuck a lime onto the rim before handing it back. After taking a sip, the girl's eyes widened. "Woah. This is like, seriously good!"

  Kaitlyn couldn't help but grin. "Glad you like it."

  "No, really!" The other girl gestured emphatically. "This is like, better than stuff I order at clubs! Hey, Jenna! You gotta try this!"

  The girl called over her shoulder, summoning a friend to her side and prompting Kaitlyn to make another drink. After that, someone else approached to ask for the same thing. Before long, she had a small crowd of people clustered about her, all of them clamoring for more.

  "Can you make anything else?" One of the guys asked.

  "I mean, probably," Kaitlyn admitted, swirling a cup and handing it off. "I just kinda made this one up on the fly. What do you want?"

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  "Oooh, can you make a mule?"

  She glanced over the options once again. If we had some ginger beer I could. Heck, even some raw ginger would do.

  "...Not with what I've got. But I can try to make something like it…"

  And so, Kaitlyn found herself acting as the party's unofficial bartender. She began experimenting with other drinks and recipes, testing them as she went and serving the good ones up to an endless tide of enthusiastic partygoers. Pretty soon she found a recipe for a cola with lime and vodka concoction that worked surprisingly well, as well as something kind of like an old fashioned and a few other easy recipes that she was satisfied with.

  I could do so much more if I had just a few more ingredients. Some simple syrup or fruit purees would work wonders here, even without having to grab better liquors. Maybe I can stock up while I'm staying here…

  "I was wondering why I had so much time on my hands."

  She looked up from her mixing to see Chris's tall figure standing at her elbow, an amused glint in his eye. "Usually I'm the one who gets stuck making all the drinks. How did you get sucked into this?"

  "That's a great question," Kaitlyn chuckled. "I don't really know myself. I just made something for one girl, and then it kinda spiraled out of control. Hope it's not a problem?"

  "No worries, no worries," Chris reassured her. "Though I gotta admit, I'm curious what all the hype's about."

  "I can make you something! What do you like?"

  "At this point?" The guy ran a tanned hand through his mop of black hair. The red flush of his face was evident, even in the dim light. "Pretty much anything. Dealer's choice."

  She obliged, whipping up one of the tropical drinks she'd started with. Of everything she'd developed so far, that one was her favorite.

  The guy took a sip, his eyes widening. "Damn. Are you a bartender or something?"

  "Nope. Just making it up as I go. I do cook a lot, though."

  Chris shook his head in disbelief. "Huh. Wild. You shouldn't make this kinda shit for free, you know. We should get you a tip jar or something."

  Kaitlyn just laughed. "No thanks. I honestly don't mind doing it. I'm having a lot of fun. But if you've got any salt or sugar that I can use, I definitely wouldn't say no."

  "Oh, yeah, sure!" The guy agreed easily. "Not sure about sugar, but we've got salt. I might have some other stuff in the fridge too if you want it."

  After acquiring a few other ingredients from Chris, Kaitlyn began expanding on her experiments even more. The salt allowed her to start adding rims to people's cups as a garnish, leveling up her presentation a bit further. Of course, the cups were still made of cheap red plastic, but still. In this setting, it achieved the desired effect. Chris stuck around as she worked, watching her mix and making casual conversation about his own favorite recipes.

  "The fuck's goin' on over here?"

  They both looked over to see Vinny elbowing his way through the assembled crowd, a scowl of annoyance written across his features. Evidently he'd finished his game. Kaitlyn guessed it hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. That, or he was just being Vinny.

  There he is. Guess I didn't have to look for him after all.

  "Dude, try this!" Chris slid a drink over to him in answer. "This chick's making some good shit."

  Vinny picked the cup up and gave it a whiff. "What kinda girly-ass drink is this?"

  "It's a tropical rum thing," she explained, setting out a row of cups for her next order. "Pineapple, orange, rum, and a bit of lime."

  Vinny grimaced. "That's a lotta shit to water down some perfectly good rum."

  Chris elbowed him in the side. "Just try it, will you?"

  Vinny glared at his roommate, then gave it a sip, looking the whole while like he'd taken a bite directly from a lemon. The expression didn't fade as he set the cup down. "Nope. Not for me. Gimme a beer anyday over that."

  "A beer? Really?" Kaitlyn stared at him incredulously. "You can't be serious. I know the beers you have here, and they suck."

  He crossed his arms defiantly. "I don't need my booze to taste like damn candy, girlie. It's supposed to taste like shit."

  Chris chimed in to defend her. "You're outta your mind, man. That right there is damn good and you know it."

  Kaitlyn shook her head in disbelief. "Geez. Well, if you want something strong that doesn't 'taste like candy'... give me a minute. Let me see if I can make something you like."

  She reached over to grab the tequila, nearly knocking it over as she did. Chris lunged forward to save the precariously tilting bottle. "Woah, there! Easy!"

  She blinked in surprise, taking a moment to look around. Her vision felt… fuzzier than before. Like it was a little harder to focus.

  Woah. I'm… a little tipsy.

  She'd gotten so wrapped up in making drinks that she hadn't even noticed. Evidently, the act of trying her concoctions had gotten a bit more alcohol in her system than expected.

  Kaitlyn set down the cup in her hand with exaggerated care. Oooo-kay. Definitely time to slow down.

  "Hey, got any more of those whiskey things?"

  A surprisingly sober-looking guy grinned, raising his cup to her as he approached the table. Vinny crossed his arms and turned a glare on him. "Fuck off. Let the girlie enjoy the damn party."

  "It's ok," she reassured him. Were her words slurring? She tried to speak a little more carefully, just in case. "I don't mind."

  "Yeah, well, too bad. I do." Vinny growled, continuing to glare at the guy until he backed up and disappeared into the crowd. Judging by the sudden lack of additional requests coming her way, he wasn't the only one who got scared off. It felt like she'd suddenly acquired a guard dog.

  Kaitlyn put a hand to her head. "Fine, fine. Let me just grab some water or food or something…" Before she headed for the kitchen, though, an idea struck her. "Actually, I don't think I'm gonna be able to drive home like this. Do you guys mind if I crash here tonight?"

  "Go for it," Chris agreed easily. "Hell, with all the drinks you've made? You earned it. We'll clear off the couch for you once people start heading out."

  "Like hell she's goin' on the couch," Vinny groused. "I'll take the couch. You're takin' a bed."

  "I don't mind—"

  "I do. You're gonna take the fuckin bed even if I gotta carry you up there, girlie."

  Kaitlyn looked between the pair, shaking her head in disbelief. Seriously. I'm just fated to never win this argument, aren't I?

  "Thanks."

  ***

  The next morning, Kaitlyn came to as sunlight began to work its way between the partially closed blinds of Vinny's room. A layer of thin sheets wrapped around her, their sorry attempt to retain warmth only succeeding due to her still wearing her hoodie and other clothes from the night before.

  Ugh… what time is it…?

  She dug in a pocket for her phone, tapping on its screen. The display cheerily informed her that it was 9:34 AM.

  Wow. That's the latest I've slept in in ages… guess it makes sense, though, considering how last night went.

  For once, she could actually remember the series of events that led to her going to sleep here. Even better, she didn't feel particularly hungover. Her head was foggy, sure, but not too much worse than it would be from lack of sleep. She didn't even have a headache.

  Thank goodness. Guess I slowed down just in time.

  Pushing herself upright, Kaitlyn spared a glance around the dim bedroom. The mattress seemed to float in its center, buoyed by an ocean of trash and dirty laundry. Empty cans adorned the desk and unused cat tree in the corner like cheap christmas ornaments, and a stale musk seemed to hang in the air like a miasma.

  I've got a few hours before the others get up, if I remember right. I might as well make use of it.

  Swinging her legs off the bed, Kaitlyn began the process of tidying up Vinny's room. She figured she wouldn't have time to finish everything—not before it was time to start breakfast. But at least she could get the trash picked up.

  …Actually, his trash can's full, too. She grimaced. Well. Guess I'll just get the laundry ready, then…

  Rolling up her sleeves, she got to work.