So Make Me Promises I know You Can't Keep

We arrived at the café and even though being nineteen, we still managed to get in because of how much older Bob and Ray looked. Mikey only still had a baby face like I did, but being with them made people think we were older too.
‘‘Anyone want a drink?’’ Ray shouted over the music.
‘‘It’s a café, why will it have drink?’’ I asked confused.
‘‘By day its coffee, by night, its alcohol.’’ Bob informed me.
‘‘Ohh. Um, just what ever everyone else is having.’’ I shouted back at Ray. He walked off with Bob to get the drinks and I stood with Mikey. His head bobbed up and down to the beat of the music, on the odd time he would sing along with other people at the chorus’ of the songs.
‘‘You come here often?’’ I asked then realised he couldn’t hear me because of the noise level so I pretended I hadn’t asked anything to prevent myself looking silly.
Ray arrived back holding two long glasses, Bob holding another two.
‘‘Vodka!’’ Ray beamed as he stood at my side handing me one of the glasses.
‘‘Just vodka?’’ I asked, my throat already burning at the prospect of having to drink it straight.
He nodded, ‘‘Gets you drunk quicker.’’ He smiled.
‘‘After three.’’ Bob called. We all stood with our glasses in hand while Bob counted. When he got to three we all threw our heads back drinking down every last drop of the vodka. After a few seconds it started to burn the back of my throat, it left a vulgar taste and I retched almost bringing it back up.
‘‘Another!’’ Bob shouted, throwing his fist in the air in excitement.
He ran off with Mikey this time to get some while I stood coughing with Ray.
‘‘You don’t like it?’’ Ray asked.
I nodded, then slowly began to shake my head, ‘‘but even though I don’t, I’ll still drink it, if it gets me drunk and lets me have fun, why complain?’’ I said, Ray brought his hand up in the air and I slapped it, giving him a high five. Bob and Mikey returned and as before, after three we knocked back another tall glass of vodka.
We did that all night, occasionally changing what we were drinking to a beer or cider but always returning to the vodka. We sung, danced and rocked out until about four o’clock when the café began to close.
None of us could actually walk properly, we swayed and on the odd time, watched Bob stumble to the ground.
‘‘Did you have fun?’’ Mikey slurred as he walked beside me.
‘‘Indeed I did.’’ I grinned at him stupidly then swayed and ended up walking into the side of him. He propped me up right and linked me so I wouldn’t fall over.
Bob started to sing Britney Spears’ song Toxic at the top of his lungs as we made our way back to Frank's and my house. On the way, a few old people came to their windows, shaking their heads at the noise level coming from Bob. A few dogs howled which only egged Bob on more.
We finally reached Frank's and Bob's tone got a little lower in case they were asleep which I doubted very much since his living room light was still on.
‘‘Frankie, we’re home!’’ Bob chirped in a high pitched squeaky voice.
In the matter of seconds he came storming out of the house, Holly two steps behind then Gerard and Rosie rushed out after.
‘‘Where the hell have you lot been?’’ Frank asked seeming worried.
‘‘Rock night at the café.’’ Ray said bluntly.
‘‘And you didn’t think to tell anyone?’’ He asked, treating us all like small children that forgot to tell their parents where they were going.
‘‘Well we didn’t know it was on until after you were gone and we didn’t want to sit in the house and wait for one of you to answer your cell phone, so we just left.’’ Ray said his tone building a little.
‘‘Are you going to let him talk to you like that?’’ Holly chipped in to Frank, making the situation worse.
‘‘Holly, don’t bother getting involved in this. All you will end up doing is making everything worse by making each of them more angry at each other.’’ I shouted, surprising myself by getting my sentence out correctly.
‘‘I will get involved if I want to get involved you stupid whore.’’ That was the final straw. I couldn’t take much more from Holly. It was one thing to say I couldn’t get a date…that was nothing, but calling me a whore when I had done nothing to show myself as one, was a whole different situation.