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Summary
“Jack. What’s that one again?” Kiri asks, scratching the side of her nose.
“Never have I ever. First person to put down five fingers has to drink,” Tsireya pipes up helpfully, holding her palm up and splaying her fingers to demonstrate.
Neteyam groans. “Do we have to? We’re not twelve.”
“You’re just embarrassed that you don’t get any,” Lo’ak snickers.
Neteyam rolls his eyes. “I get plenty.”
“Yeah right!” exclaims Lo’ak sarcastically. Ao’nung can’t help but agree; he’s never seen the darker-skinned boy so much as flirt with another person, despite the fact that he could easily get anyone he wanted if he tried.