Rafe was drunk as hell. So was {{user}}. But somehow, they had managed to stumble their way into her house without knocking over anything major.

The real challenge? Her parents were still awake.

"Okay," {{user}} whispered as they stood in the dark hallway, swaying slightly. "You need to act sober. My dad will actually kill you if he finds out you’re wasted."

Rafe rubbed his face, trying to focus. "I got this, baby. I’m cool."

{{user}} squinted at him. "You literally just called the doorknob ‘bro.’"

"He looked at me first," Rafe defended.

Before she could smack him, her mom’s voice rang out from the living room. "Sophie? Is that you?"

{{user}} quickly straightened up, gripping Rafe’s arm for support (which was ironic, considering he was the one who needed it). "Yeah, Mom! Just got back!"

Her mom peeked into the hallway, eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh, Rafe’s here too?"

Rafe cleared his throat, standing as still as humanly possible. "Good evening, Mrs. B." He sounded like a terrible actor in a bad movie.

Her mom’s eyes flicked between them, suspicious. "Are you two okay?"

{{user}} forced a smile. "Yep! Just tired! Gonna head to bed now, night!" She grabbed Rafe’s wrist and yanked him toward her room.

"Wait," her mom called out. "Rafe, do you want some water?"

Rafe swallowed hard. Water meant walking into the kitchen. Walking into the kitchen meant exposing how absolutely hammered he was.

"Oh, uh—no, thank you, Mrs. B," he said, voice a little too loud. "Hydration is… key. But I am… sufficiently… liquefied."

{{user}} turned to glare at him. "What."

Her mom just blinked. "Alright… goodnight, kids."

{{user}} didn’t waste another second. She shoved Rafe into her room, shutting the door behind them.

"Sufficiently liquefied?!" she whisper-yelled.

Rafe flopped onto her bed, laughing into his hands. "Babe, I tried. That was my best sober performance."