Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
My nose scrunched in disgust, but then I remembered. She’d passed out… well, we’d both passed out. The party had continued but we ended up trapping ourselves in the sanctity of her upstairs bathroom, ranting about the stupid boys in our lives.
For her it was Trace, who we still couldn’t believe tried to push us over, but then she grinned like the Cheshire Cat when she thought of the twin. She said his name was Oscar. I was glad Oscar kept her company during their ten-minute stay.
Unfortunately for me, it was Drake who’d made me livid when he stormed away from the party, leaving me no choice but to drown in cheap beer and salty chips.
Bad combination.
I’d only drank twice before then, and that was a glass of wine that belonged to Kylie’s mom’s. The food, as well as the liquor, didn’t sit well on my stomach. I was supposed to be escorting Kylie to the bathroom to hold her hair, but it was me who hurled before she even had the chance to.
God… this sucked.
Now it was quiet in the house.
I looked up towards the rectangular window, the sun beaming down on us, and my head throbbed. I shielded my eyes, whimpering a little as I pushed to a stand, staggering on one heel.
Jesus, where is the other one?
I’d never, in all my teenage years, gotten so wasted. A throbbing skull, a limp body, dry throat and an even dryer mouth. What was I thinking, drinking until I didn’t care about Drake’s rude departure?
Stupid, stupid idea.
Why? Because it was still bothering me.
I flipped my wrist to check my watch. 10:30 A.M.
“The brunch! Holy shit!”
Kylie groaned after my declaration. I dashed for her, shaking her by the shoulders. “Kylie, I have to go. I only have an hour to get home and get ready.” I shook her again. She didn’t budge. “Ugh.” I couldn’t leave her like this. Hugging the toilet. She would never forgive me for leaving her there like that.
I picked her up, draping her arm over my shoulder, practically carrying dead weight through the next door. I stumbled a little as we reached her bedroom, and then fell forward, flopping on top of her king-sized mattress once my knees bumped the edge.
She groaned, and then curled up as she rolled onto her side. She needed rest. She looked horrible. I knew once she was awake she would put herself together again.
I took a peek at the mirror on her wall, realizing I looked just as hideous—makeup smeared, lips chapped, my brown hair a frizzy mess—but it could wait. My parents were never going to shut the hell up if I didn’t make it to the brunch in time. I scanned the room, in hopes my phone was around.
It wasn’t.
“Damn it. Not now.” Kicking off the other heel, I hurried towards Kylie’s door and fled out with bare feet. There were two people in the hallway, passed out, red cups scattered all around them. I stepped over their outstretched arms, taking the stairs down until I was in the kitchen.
I caught my teal and white phone case on the counter and relief washed through me. Dashing for my cellphone, I snatched it up and checked the screen.
Three missed calls from Mom.
One from Dad.
I found my keys on the key hook where I left them and was at the door in a matter of seconds, but not before taking notice of the damage that’d been caused because of her spur-of-the-moment party.
The house was a disaster. Sticky alcohol on the floors, Solo cups everywhere. Spots on the wall, broken dishes. Toilet paper all over the place. I shook my head as I walked out of the house.
If I thought the inside was bad, the outside was worse. Someone had tissue bombed all the trees. Even more cups lay out by the fountain. Empty tequila glasses crowded the sidewalk and the keg was woefully tipped over on the lawn. Poor thing. Was loved by so many until it was used up, empty, and bound for loneliness.
“This is terrible,” I mumbled, reaching my car. I had the urge to pick up the two cups and the bottle beside my tire, but opted not to. I had no time. I had to go.
My phone buzzed when I started the engine of my BMW.
Mom
I ignored the call, but it was followed by a furious text seconds later.
Mom: WHERE ARE YOU, JENNIFER? TODAY IS IMPORTANT! GET HERE!
I rolled my eyes. I was only a few minutes away from home. I wasn’t in the mood to hear her bitch and whine about my timing. I wasn’t her. I didn’t plan my life a day or even years ahead.
Unlike her, I liked to take things by the minute—maybe by the hour, if I had plans I was actually looking forward to.