*Olivia*

“Whoo!” Dahlia yelled out as she slammed her cup down onto the wooden picnic table between us. The glass pitcher rattled with the force, the maroon syrup inside splashing over the edge.

“Are you sure Maria isn’t actually a bartender in disguise?” I asked, both curious and suspicious. I was on my third drink already and though there wasn’t much alcohol in it, I couldn’t stop drinking it.

“Of course not,” Dahlia rolled her eyes, ...