Chapter 13

Stevie McGabe

I know it’s childish to avoid Darryl, but I can’t stop the gnawing jealousy that is eating away at my insides since meeting the gorgeous girl he is holed up with night after night on that bus. Every time I close my eyes, I can picture him and her lying together in the same bunk he’d tried to get me into.

Rhea and Cameron spend the last couple of days being my constant companions. The only time I am left alone is when I go to the bathroom—although Rhea would come with me if I’d let her.

After drowning my sorrows in gallons of ice cream and going square-eyed watching all the classic brat-pack movies, I am going stir-crazy. I don’t even have any writing workshops this week to break the monotony of my jealous depressive streak. Mr. Bryans sets us a task to write ten thousand words in a week.

I crawl out of the pile of limbs that are my two friends, from where we succumb to sleep-binging on some trashy high school melodrama, and quietly tiptoe to my room. Pulling on my yoga pants and chucking on a sports bra and a baggy t-shirt, I slip my feet into my running shoes and pick up my phone from where it is charging.

A quick glance at the screen makes my throat contract; several missed calls and a dozen messages show me that Darryl hasn’t given up yet. The guilty, queasy feeling that swirls around in my stomach every time I see how much he is trying to get in touch with me starts up again. Blowing out a deep breath, I shake myself. ~Moping around isn’t going to fix my problems!~ After my run, I’ll call him and see what he has to say.

Tucking my cell into the tight pocket on my thigh, I push my earbuds in and set off.

***

The cool, smooth bottle feels too light in my hand…Oh, yeah! ~That’s because I’ve already drunk all the wine in it!~

Soooo…my healthy run may have turned into a solo day drinking session…whoops!

My head feels too heavy to keep upright. I let it drop back, letting the giggles that have been dancing around in my throat finally bubble up into the air as my head thuds against the wood of the bench I am currently sitting on…or sliding off. Everything is a little skewwhiff…hah! ~What a stupid word!~

My whole life is a lotta bit skewwhiff.

I raise the neck of the bottle to my mouth, sticking my tongue out to try and catch any last pesky drops hiding in there.

A large, warm presence joins me on my bench, and I’m aware of low rumblings, my ears only pricking up and tuning in when I hear the words ‘more to drink’.

***

The first thing I’m aware of is the most extreme case of cotton mouth I’ve ever experienced.

The second thing is the pounding behind my eyes.

The third is the way that the room spins when I manage to crack my eye open a fraction.

The last thing—and possibly the most alarming thing—is that the little bit of the room that I can make out through the sliver of vision and the swirling merry-go-round effect is completely foreign to me.

With a lot of effort, I push myself up off the leather sofa, my cheek sticking painfully to the surface, glued by my drool. I glance down at myself, feeling the blood drain from my face as I realize I’m only wearing my sports bra and panties. ~What the hell did I do?!~

My phone starts to ring, and I sluggishly try to locate it, shaking my head as if that would help stop the hangover from hell currently residing there.

Cameron pads into the living room, yawning widely, his pajama bottoms hanging low off his hips, showcasing a well-defined body that he obviously puts a lot of time into. He picks up my phone from the low coffee table and answers it.

“Hello?”

Even from where I am lying prone on the sofa, I can hear the deep growl of my boyfriend. ~“Who the fuck is this?!”~

“I might ask the same thing of you?” I let out a little croak, and he turns around, flashing me a grin when he sees I’m awake.

~“Where’s Stevie? Why are you answering her phone?”~ Darryl shouts. ~“Who. The fuck. Are you?”~

“Chill, dude!” Cam chuckles. “Stevie is just a little indisposed right now. I’ll let her know you called, though.”

I can hear Darryl going apoplectic down the line as Cameron hangs up. “Why did you do that?” I croak, propping myself up on one elbow.

“Hang on one sec,” Cam tucks my phone into his pocket and disappears through an archway into what looks like the kitchen. Taking the opportunity to cover myself, I stumble over and grab a throw off the back of an armchair, wrapping it tightly around my body as I hear a refrigerator door open and close, and he returns with a bottle of water, little drips of condensation running down the sides making my throat ache with thirst. “I can’t bear to listen to your croaky post-drinking voice.”

I chug down the cool water gratefully. “So, where am I and how did I get here and where are my clothes?”

Cam folds his arms across his chest, an amused smile on his face. “You’re at my place. I found you, drunk as shit on a bench and decided you’d be better off here with me. And you threw up all over your clothes, so I chucked them in the wash. You refused to put on the clothes I tried to lend you.”

He gestures at the pile of basketball shorts and T-shirt, which are balled up on the floor at the end of the couch. Vague memories start to surface, and I feel my face heat up.

“Oh my god! I tried to kiss you, didn’t I?” I drop my face into my hands when he laughs and nods.

“Oh yes…but vomit-scented breath really isn’t a turn-on.” I throw a cushion at his head, making him laugh harder. He sinks down onto the sofa next to me. “So, you wanna tell me why you snuck off and got daytime drunk? I thought we were all having fun eating junk and watching your unrealistic chick flicks.”

“I don’t know,” I sigh, slumping back in my seat. “We were, I guess, but I just thought if I got out and went for a run, maybe it would help me get my head back together, you know? But then I went past a convenience store and thought, fuck it! Darryl always turns to destruction when he’s upset—why can’t I?” I glance up at my friend. “I’m sorry if I’ve made it weird trying to kiss you.”

Cam waves it off with a hand and a shake of his head. “Don’t even worry about it. I know I’m irresistible.”

I shove his shoulder good-naturedly, and he grins. “Oh shit!” I exclaim, sitting up straight. “I need to tell Rhea where I am.”

“I called her when I found you. Told her it was easier to bring you back here than to try to drag you all the way back to yours. Breakfast before I take you home?”

I nod my thanks, then frown. “So, why did you just not tell Darryl who you were or where I was?”

Cam pauses in the doorway to the kitchen and shrugs. “Figured he could use a little taste of his own medicine.”