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Oh my God . . . my head is pounding . . . where the hell am I? What is going on?
It only takes a moment to realize I’m home—well, Mickey’s home that I’m crashing in because I still don’t have my life together—and that my head is pounding from the drinks that Cami made me partake in last night. We didn’t stay out late, so I cannot believe I feel so crappy. I reach out for my phone and realize it is only three a.m. I also notice that there are a slew of text messages waiting for me and the one on top says it’s from Georgia.
Oh no, Emily. What the hell have you done?
I drop the phone back on the bedside table scared to see what I wrote.
This cannot be happening!
I did not drunk text him. No way! That is just not me!
I don’t get drunk, therefore I don’t drunk text.
I get out of bed, get a glass of water and take something for the pounding in my head, while I pace my room. I just keep staring at my phone like it’s about to jump up and bite me. I’m so anxious. I want to know what the messages say, but I’m too much of a chicken to pick up the phone and read it.
I distract myself and walk out into the hall and poke my head in Ireland’s room to see her sleeping soundly with all her stufties around her. She is an amazing little girl and I am so proud of her. I wouldn’t change anything if it meant I didn’t have her in my life. She’s worth all the sacrifices I’ve made, but when I really think about it, none of it was a sacrifice . . . because I have her.
I don’t want to wake her up so I head back to my room, shut the door and pick up my phone. Let’s see what kind of damage control I need to do. I make myself not read anything and go to the beginning and oh boy do I have a lot of scrolling to do. Looks like we were at it for a while.
Gracie: I heard Kings of Leon tonight and it reminded me of dancing in the dark, on the beach, in front of the fire. That was fun.
Georgia: It was fun.
Gracie: It wasn’t a song from our album though.
Georgia: Where are you?
Gracie: On my way home from happy hour with Cami and Alex. Cami made me go.
Gracie: :(
Georgia: Ah, so you’re drunk texting me, I hope somebody else is driving?
Georgia: I’ll take the drunk texting as a compliment, I think?
Gracie: Cami is driving.
Gracie: California was great, wasn’t it?
Georgia: It was. I think about it all the time.
Gracie: Me too.
Georgia: Gracie . . . what’s going on? Why are you texting me and not your other “friends”?
Gracie: I don’t know.
Gracie: Hearing that song just reminded me of you and I am drunk.
Georgia: I thought you didn’t drink?
Gracie: I don’t really and if I do I am a cheap date as you can see. I think you probably figured out why I didn’t drink in Cali?
Georgia: Any other white lies from that week?
Gracie: Just one . . .
Georgia: . . .
