by Linde, K. A.
“Thank you.”
“Let’s do shots and then head to a bar we can dance in,” Victoria announced.
Kyle poured five shots full of something that smelled like lemons. He passed them across the bar and kept one for himself.
“Just close me out.”
“Anything for you, V.”
Victoria pushed one over to Savannah, who shook her head. “Oh no, sorry. I’m not drinking.”
“Um . . . I just bought you a shot. So you’re drinking.”
“Come on!” Liz called. “It’s my birthday.”
“Um . . . maybe just one. But nothing after this.”
“Don’t be so uptight, Maxwell,” Massey said, nudging her in the ribs. “It’s okay to have a good time in college. You’ll still get into Congress even if you drank underage once.”
Savannah’s cheeks heated as she took the glass in her hand.
Liz reached out and shoved Massey. “Don’t be a bitch. She doesn’t even want to go into politics. Don’t you know your newspaper staff?” Liz asked through her drunken haze. She didn’t like anyone messing with her friends, especially after Savannah trusted her. All the alcohol kept her inhibitions down. “Don’t be rude!”
Massey’s eyes practically popped out of her head. “Feisty much, Liz?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t being an asshole.”
“Whoa!” Victoria said, raising her glass up to silence them. “Drunk Liz wants to get into a fight.”
Massey shrugged. “I was only joking,” she said to Savannah.
“It’s fine,” she said tightly. “Let’s just do the shot.”
“Agreed,” Victoria said.
Liz felt her phone vibrate in her purse and butterflies flew around her stomach. Had Brady actually responded? What had she even said to him? It hadn’t been that long ago, had it? God, she didn’t even remember.
“Happy Birthday, Liz,” Victoria called.
Everyone raised their shot glasses and cheered her. Liz realized what was happening and held her shot glass up too. She tipped the glass back and let the liquid slide down her throat.
Whoa! That was strong.
They set the glasses back down on the bar and as they waited for Victoria to close her tab, Liz pulled her phone back out to check her messages.
One new message.
Carmichael Personal read on the screen.
Brady. Her stomach flipped. He had responded. She couldn’t believe it.
And what favor could a congressman offer to a girl on her birthday?
Liz’s heart stopped. Was he . . . teasing her? Shit! What had she said to get Brady to tease her? Liz reread her other messages and then Brady’s once more. Yeah . . . he was totally teasing her. She jotted back another drunken message immediately.
I can think of a few things.
I can think of more than a few. Perhaps you could be more specific.
“Are you drunk texting Lane?” Massey asked, coming up next to her as they walked in the street.
“What? Oh no,” she said quickly.
“Oh my God, you so are. What is he saying?”
“Nothing!”
“Is he sexting you? Because you are totally blushing.”
Liz’s face colored deeper at the accusation. “You think Hayden sexts?”
Massey wrinkled her nose. “No. You’re right. He probably doesn’t.”
“Are y’all talking about Hayden?” Savannah asked, listening in on the conversation. “Because that’s gross.”
“He’s not gross!” Liz defended him.
“No, he’s not! I didn’t mean it like that,” Savannah said automatically. “I just don’t see him like that. To me he’s like the boss.”
“Liz is fucking the boss,” Massey said giggling.
Liz rolled her eyes and hid her phone as she responded to Brady.
Things your sister wouldn’t approve of me discussing with you right now.
I bet she wouldn’t be the only one.
She bit her lip at the message. Somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, something was telling her to stop talking and not continue on this conversation. There was a reason that she shouldn’t be saying these things. Both of them shouldn’t. It wasn’t a good idea, and it wasn’t going anywhere. But she’d had too much alcohol to care at the moment. So she jotted out a text.
Please tell me you’re in Raleigh without the uppity nuisance.
She giggled to herself about her jab on Erin as Victoria directed them into a bar on the corner. Liz followed at the back of the pack, waiting for Brady’s response to her jab about Erin.
Uppity nuisance, huh? I’m in D.C. Don’t make me fly down there and remind you why he’s just a boring fill-in. I do believe we own his desk, after all.
Oh shit! She gasped loud enough that Savannah turned around and looked at her. Liz stuffed her phone back into her purse and tried not to look scandalized at the thought of she and Brady sleeping together on Hayden’s desk. Then she quickly pulled it out again and typed out a reply.
You wouldn’t.
Baby, are you asking me to prove it?
“Who are you texting anyway?” Savannah asked as they walked into the club Victoria and Massey had selected. Savannah looked concerned, but Liz couldn’t figure out why. Did she look that drunk?
“No one,” Liz said.
“We’re going to go dance,” Victoria called back to them as she and Massey threaded through the crowd.
“Someone should take your phone away from you,” Savannah said. “You can’t be forming coherent sentences with anyone at your level of inebriation.”
Liz glared at her. She didn’t want anyone to take her phone from her. Brady was talking to her. But as drunk as she was, she still didn’t say anything about that.
“I’m so totally fine.”
Savannah rolled her eyes. “Why don’t we just go dance with Victoria and Massey? It might do you some good to sweat out some of that alcohol.”
“Seriously, Savannah. I’m fine,” Liz said as she stumbled forward and nearly tripped over her own feet.
Savannah grabbed her arm. “I know it’s your twenty-first, and I mean this with love, Liz, but please don’t do anything stupid. I really, really don’t want to have to call Hayden for you.”
“Um . . . yeah. No.”
“I mean, he can probably already tell how drunk you are from your texts.”
“Probs,” Liz said with a shrug as she pushed forward to the center of the dance floor to find Victoria. She didn’t want to continue that conversation. The alcohol felt as if it was sloshing around inside her head, and everything was getting jumbled.
Liz sent another quick message as she was walking.
So what if I am?
“Put that thing away,” Victoria cried over the music.
“Fine,” Liz snapped, shoving it back into her purse. “You guys are no fun.”
“The reason we left Lane at home is so that you’ll have fun with us. You can’t have fun with us while you’re messaging him,” Victoria told her.
The girls spent the next couple hours loading Liz up with more booze and dancing the night away with each other and any available hot guys. As much as Liz was dying to check her phone, she had a sneaking suspicion that she wouldn’t get away with it again.
And as the night grew longer, her head got heavier and heavier. She felt pretty sick, but the dancing seemed to be helping. Maybe there was something to Savannah’s comment about sweating out the booze.
Savannah dipped out first. She claimed that she had a test to study for tomorrow and she would call to check on Liz after. She didn’t suspect Liz would be awake before then. Massey left about an hour before bar close. She found a hot fraternity guy that she knew and they disappeared with a hasty good-bye.
Liz
and Victoria danced until Liz felt as if her feet were going to fall off. And that was saying something through her buzz.
“Let’s get out of here,” Liz yelled over the music.
Victoria nodded and gestured to exit the dance floor. She was wobbling on her heels too. If they had drunk enough for Victoria to be unsteady, then Liz knew she was well past drunk. Luckily the sick feeling had passed and she just wanted to walk off the rest of the haze in her mind.
“Close out?” Liz asked.
“Yeah,” Victoria agreed. “Call Lane and tell him to come get us.”
Liz shrugged and fished her phone back out of her purse. She hadn’t checked it in hours. There had been no room on the dance floor. Her fingers fumbled on the keys as she tried to figure out what the hell she was doing. What was she supposed to be doing anyway?
Two new messages.
As good a place to start as anywhere.
Okay.
Okay what? Liz scrolled up through the conversation. She had told him to prove it and he had said okay. Fuck. What was the next text?
See you soon.
Liz panicked. Fire alarms were going off in her head. God, she wanted to see him. She really, really wanted to see him. But seeing him was a bad idea. Hayden. She was supposed to be calling Hayden. She couldn’t call Hayden if Brady was coming to see her.
She did the first thing that came to mind. She clicked the number to dial Brady’s phone and prayed that he wasn’t already on a plane . . . or maybe that he already was. She didn’t know how she felt in that moment.
Drunk. She felt drunk. And sick. The sickness was coming back.
She started walking. Out of the bar and onto the sidewalk.
The phone rang twice before the line picked up. She held her breath. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but all along she hadn’t thought he would answer.
“Hey,” he said, his voice as sexy as she remembered it.
“Hey.”
“You called me on my personal line.”
“You were texting me,” she said, finding a bench and plopping down.
“I’ve been drinking.”
Oh.
“How much?” she slurred.
He laughed, and it was one of the best sounds she had ever heard. “Not as many as you, apparently.”
“More than one, though.”
“Many more than one,” he agreed.
“I’m drunk.”
“I can tell.”
Victoria’s voice rang out behind her. “Liz, where the fuck did you go?”
“Hold on,” she told Brady. She stood and waved at Victoria. “Over here.”
“Jesus! Don’t do that!” Victoria said. “Are you talking to Lane? Is he picking us up?”
“Let’s just walk home. I want to walk off all this booze,” she crooned, and started walking away without waiting to hear what Victoria had to say. “So . . . what was I saying? Oh, you can’t come visit.”
“I can’t or you don’t want me to?” That was the first line where she actually heard the alcohol in his voice.
“Liz, are you kidding me right now?” Victoria yelled. “Who the hell are you talking to?”
“Who is that?” Brady asked.
“My roommate. She doesn’t want me to walk home.”
“You shouldn’t walk home. I’ll come get you.”
“You’re not here,” she said, drawing out the E dramatically as she wandered aimlessly down Franklin Street.
Victoria grabbed her shoulder and halted her in place. “Who are you talking to? Give me the phone. We’re not fucking walking home!”
“Chill out, Vickie,” Liz said, swatting her hand away.
Victoria dodged her easily and nimbly grabbed her phone. Liz stumbled as she tried to reach for it. She couldn’t let Victoria talk to Brady!
“Hey, who is this? You know what—it doesn’t matter. Liz is really drunk and she has to go now. She’ll call you back some other time,” Victoria said into the phone and then ended the call. Liz’s heart sank. She had just hung up on Brady in the middle of their call.
“I’m calling Lane,” Victoria said, finding his number and dialing.
Liz plopped back down on the bench and tried to keep her head from spinning. It wouldn’t stop. And she felt so out of control. All the booze seemed to be hitting her at one time and she thought that she might be sick.
There was a trash can to the side of the bench, and Liz just made it as she unloaded the contents of her stomach into the bin. She retched repeatedly until it felt as if she had nothing left in her entire body. She felt the tears spring to her eyes and she tried to swipe them away, but it made her stomach clench. She hadn’t thought that she had anything left in her, but she doubled over and puked again.
“Fuck!” she heard Victoria cry behind her.
Her friend was at her side in an instant, holding her hair back, cleaning her up the best she could, and sitting her back down on the bench. Hayden arrived not long after that and drove them back to her house. Liz had enough sense to grab her phone back from Victoria before crawling into bed. But lying down was a bad move, and soon she had her face buried in the toilet.
Hayden stayed up half the night with her as she got sick over and over until she passed out into a delirious, dehydrated, exhausted slumber.
Chapter 13
SLIP THROUGH THEIR FINGERTIPS
Liz awoke the next afternoon with a headache from hell. Her eyes were puffy, her throat was swollen, and she felt as if someone had run her over with a Mack truck. She was equal parts starving and never wanting to eat again.
Why oh why had she ever allowed herself to drink as much as she did?
Rolling over slowly in bed, she peeled her eyes open and tried to let them adjust to the light in the room. Her head spun and she wondered briefly if she was actually still drunk from last night. Moving onto her other side, Liz stared at a little slice of heaven.
A glass of water. A bottle of Gatorade. A thousand milligrams of Tylenol. And a note from Hayden letting her know that he was going to pick them up some lunch. Not that she had any intention of eating anything.
After taking the medicine, she sipped on the Gatorade, trying to drink as much as she could without feeling sick. Last night had been a very bad idea. Fuzzy memories came back to her slowly. But she didn’t remember a lot of what had happened after Massey got there.
Something.
Savannah.
Right. Savannah had shown up. That was so nice of her. She should text her a thank-you.
Liz reached for her phone and stopped just before grabbing it. “Oh no,” she whispered.
Now she remembered.
Brady.
She had texted Brady last night. And he had answered. They had talked back and forth. Had she even called him? Fuck, what had they talked about?
She snatched the phone off the nightstand and pulled up her text messages. Scrolling through them made the sickness she’d had all last night come back full force. Had she actually said those things to Brady? Had she asked him to fly to Chapel Hill to see her? Had he encouraged her?
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. What the hell was she supposed to do?
Liz dropped the phone into her lap on the bed and covered her eyes. She was a fucking idiot. A terrible fucking idiot. She had left Brady eight long months ago. So what was she still doing obsessing over this?
Brady had been drunk and fucking with her last night. No matter what she felt or what she had felt last August . . . that part of her life was over.
And Hayden.
Oh, Hayden . . .
What if he had read the messages? What if he had seen what she had insinuated? What if he had seen how stupid she had been? She didn’t think he had, based on the merry assortment of hangover fixers on the nightstand, but God, what if he had
?
Hayden was the nicest person she had ever met. He was a complete gentleman and treated her exactly the way she deserved to be treated. He loved her. And she didn’t deserve him. Not with the way she had acted last night. Not by a long shot. She knew that she had been drunk, beyond drunk, but it wasn’t an excuse. She couldn’t use that to excuse her behavior.
The reality check slapped her in the face.
She couldn’t do this to Hayden. She couldn’t allow herself to become that person. She had never in her life been that person . . . the person she had been last night. It wasn’t an acceptable manner of behavior. She couldn’t live with herself.
Hayden loved her, and maybe she didn’t love him right now, but how did she know that feeling would never flourish if she gave it a real chance? She wasn’t giving Hayden a chance, much like Brady had stifled theirs. It hadn’t been fair to her, and it certainly wasn’t fair to Hayden, who was a much better person than she was.
She never wanted Hayden to have to make the choice that she had made with Brady. She needed to pull back, reevaluate herself.
She owed Hayden a fresh start.
Liz pulled up Brady’s numbers in her phone with trembling hands. She slowly went through each of them and deleted them. She knew his work number by heart, but she doubted that one even worked anymore, so it didn’t matter. She couldn’t have pieces of Brady floating around and reminding her.
She could never take back the words she had shared with Brady last night, but she could learn from what happened. Live and learn from her mistakes.
Graduation came and went without big fanfare.
Hayden’s parents came to town for the week to celebrate and attend the ceremony. Jamie and James flew down a couple days after Hayden’s parents just in time for graduation. Hayden dressed in Carolina-blue graduation robes, and Liz wore a blue dress to match. Hayden had frowned at her bare neck and asked if she was going to wear her birthday present. She had blushed and told him it didn’t go with the outfit. She didn’t want a reminder of Brady at Hayden’s graduation. Easily appeased, Hayden left to find the rest of his class, while Liz entered Kenan Stadium with his family to watch from the bleachers. She had a hard time believing that the time had already come for Hayden to graduate, and that she would be in the same place within a year.
