The first swallow burns like light down my throat, and I chase the shot with a swig of beer.
It's karaoke night, and onstage a woman sings "I Got You Babe" in Spanish.
"Misha, what are you going to sing tonight?" Alex teases. Most of the songs I like probably aren't on the machine. I shrug my wet blanket shrug. I haven't sung in front of people since the eighth grade.
"What about you?" The best defense is a question.
Lydia returns with another round and a plate of empanadas.
"I saw the Parkers and Sebastian at the bar. They're coming over."
As the evening deepens, we collect more friends. We drink more, eat more, wander the town, watch it close. Stars arrive in the sky as we reach our little shed at the Senora's.
"Are you starting to feel at home?" Alex whispers as I crawl into my sleeping bag.
Not even a whole day.