There was still plenty of time until midnight. Between the pre-game, and the bar, and however long they had spent at the party, Reagan was well beyond inebriated. The scent of her perfume had long dissipated and the limits of her waterproof makeup were being tested. She ran her fingers along the wall to maintain her balance as she dipped into the kitchen. The blaring music faded slightly and the room seemed to be a few degrees cooler. She took a deep breath to steady herself, eyes blinking to clarity.
A slender figure obscured the barrel, surely sweaty palms trying to manipulate the tap. Reagan leaned against the wall, along with the rest of the party-goers who were impatiently waiting, their cups empty and their buzzes steadily dropping. After what seemed like forever, but was realistically only a few seconds, she pushed herself off of the wall and meandered up to the boy and the keg.
"What's so taking long?" she half slurred, half shouted over the music. She nearly shoved him aside - she knew that she could tap it faster even if she was drunk. Shit, she was drunk.