thirty
"We like to drink with Jordan, 'cause Jordan is our mate, and when we drink with Jordan, he downs it all in 8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1!"
Cheers loud enough to bring down Mount Everest echo through the living room, and Jordan grins like a dazed i***t and he drops the last shot glass he had downed. Somehow, he'd managed to down all eight shots in rhythm with the song, which even Finn couldn't do.
"You did it!" Some random girl squeals, standing in the crowd around the table Jordan was standing on. "Well done!"
"Big deal," Finn scoffs, his arm sling casually around a red faced Keeley. "Who's up next? I bet no one can do nine!"
"Nine doesn't fit in with the song, i***t," I call over the loud booming music, and I realise somewhere in the back of my foggy mind that my words were a
