5. Drunk Secrets #3
The next day everything hurt and I couldn’t possibly bear to open my eyes. Not without wanting to cry, or hyperventilate at least. I’d made a complete fool of myself and that was about the only reason I wasn’t in trouble or grounded.
"Embarrassment is punishment enough, Solace,” my dad hummed as he brought in one of his disgusting tea concoctions this morning.
Knock. Knock.
A head peeked around the door as Bridget pushed it open. She slid in wearing a giant parka, the kind she wore whenever it threatened to snow.
“What are you wearing?” I attempted to sit up, only to give up a second later as my head continued to throb violently.
Bridget flashed her signature dirty smile, chin tucked to her chest, eyes growing wide. “I bear Satan’s butthole, for you my dear.” Opening her parka, she revealed a giant mesh pocket and carefully inside that pocket was a large, most likely crispy, Mcdonald’s Coke.
“You’re an angel,” I groaned, wincing as I sat up to accept the offering.
Bridget stabbed a straw through the cup and handed it to me then peeled the coat off and threw it at the foot of the bed. “I would smuggle you a whole ass cow if you asked me to.” I took a sip, as she tossed me a travel size container of Tylenol. “Figured you’d want these too.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She was an actual godsend. A saint in the flesh. Despite my mother being an actual doctor, we rarely took meds in this house.
Bridget scooted into bed beside me, carefully moving the mostly full tea to keep from spilling. “This is already cold, do you want me to microwave it?”
“No microwave, remember?” I cast her a sidelong glance. “I’ll probably dump it out the window and tell my dad it was delicious.”
Her nose screwed up. “Why don’t you just tell them their mud water is gross?” She took a sip, only to gag a second later and wrap her hand around her throat.
“It’s easier to pretend.”
“Hmph.” Bridget grabbed a magazine from the stack beside my bed, flipping it over only to toss it away and grab another and repeat the process three times. “Oh my god, are these all music theory related?”
I shrugged, opening my phone screen. “The subscription was a birthday gift from my grandma a few years ago.” My heart fluttered. There was a message from Jude.
How’s my party girl feeling today?
I chewed on my thumb.
I regret to inform you that Solace has died. Will follow up with funeral arrangements shortly.
RIP Solace
I knew something was wrong when the hottest girl at the party disappeared before midnight
My ribs must have been collapsing against my lungs. My thumbs hesitated a few seconds too long before Bridget was barking, “Reply already you big baby.”
I feel like death beat me up himself
I imagine he's too busy for that.
But if it makes you feel any better, I would feel shitty after 4 shots of Titos too.
You’re a champ.
How’s the hangover?
Better now that Bridget smuggled me a Coke
The screen changed to Jude’s contact picture of his sweaty face, arms slung around his mom and grandma after a football game win. I always loved this photo of them.
I thought about pressing ignore with Bridget beside me, but couldn’t bring myself to actually do it.
“Hey,” I said, putting the phone up to my ear, angling away from Bridget who was whispering loudly to put it on speakerphone.
“Hey, I figured I’d just call you. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ll never drink again.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and grainy through the phone. “I planned on greeting you this morning with my own hangover cure but I’m grounded.”
“Oof. That bad huh?”
“Yeah well I was under strict instructions to not have any alcohol, and we both know how that went.”
“Rough life.”
“Tell me about it. My mom woke me up at five this morning to scrub a mysterious red stain out of the carpet in the den. Pretty sure it was Scotty’s fault.
He brought wine from his parent’s cellar.
Which, I know I’m not an expert cleaner or anything, but that shit didn’t come out.
At all.” He laughed, then added, “Would I be an asshole if I sent him the bill?”
My grin widened. “I actually vaguely remember spotting him on the couch in the den making out with Lou. They had red cups in their hands.”
“That bastard.”
The line went quiet for a moment, and I almost thought I’d lost him.
“I meant what I said last night,” he added quietly. “About missing you. I really missed you.”
“I missed you too.” So much that my chest was beginning to hurt and my feelings were tangled into a giant mess. They were notes fallen off the page, and I’d clumsily picked them up to weave them into a melody I couldn’t quite grasp. And that kiss…
I mean, it was on the cheek, but still.
“How was the conservatory? I want to hear all about it.”
Bridget’s nose scrunched up. “You didn’t tell him?” she whisper-mouthed.
I shook my head. “Right now?” I asked Jude.
“Yeah, right now. Are you busy? I want to hear everything.”
“Tell him!” She mouthed, scooting closer to listen.
I shook my head again. It wasn’t important. I’d tell him later.
“Not until you tell me more about school.”