He bought it without checking the price. Back home, he let the bottles chill until they frosted. When he finally popped the top, the carbonation hissed like an old secret.
It wasn't exactly how he remembered—it was a little sweeter, maybe a little flatter—but as the sun dipped below the tree line, Elias realized it didn't matter. He hadn't been looking for a drink; he’d been looking for the feeling of being twenty-one again. And for the price of a six-pack, he’d found it. hornsby's cider where to buy
He drove three towns over to a shop called The Rusty Cork . In the very back, behind a tower of dusty root beer, sat a lone, sticky six-pack. The cardboard was damp, and the labels were peeling at the corners, but the rhino was there, defiant. He bought it without checking the price