I woke up with stale wine on my breath, 
remnants of New Years spent at my cousins and making a friend. 

He opened the bottle and it wasn’t long 
before I started sneaking small doses 
into my Red Solo cup,
hoping the other 
adults wouldn’t notice, and if they did,
 that they wouldn’t care. It was twenty 
minutes
to midnight and I had moved 
on to a wine glass. All the other adults 
had
already had so much to drink that 

they forgot to care. 
It was fifteen minutes to midnight, and 
what was a full bottle was now empty
,
my head swimming, though my footing 
still sure and steady.
Between the two of
 us, two hours was plenty of time to 
**** a bottle of wine, even if it was only
 by ourselves. 

It was midnight and we were toasting to the life ahead of us, if not out loud 
then surely in our minds.
 I don’t think being happy is too much
 to ask for, when the clock strikes 12.