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Oh God.
I was wrong.
I throw the covers back and hurl myself out of the bed, gasping for air.
“Fuck. Darcy!”
“Whoever smelt it, dealt it,” Darcy mumbles, not even opening her eyes.
I clutch my stomach and groan, almost dry heaving from the stench. I shudder, because I can still taste it. Lily hands me a bottle of water, her body shaking from laughing so hard. I take it and unscrew the cap, gulping it down. I get through more than half the bottle before I stop for a breath.
“I’m glad you find this so funny,” I mutter. “What the hell happened?”
“You don’t remember?” she asks, surprised. “You both passed out on me in that karaoke bar. I had to get Milo to help me carry you guys back up here.”
“Milo?” I frown. “We went to a bar?” I frown harder. “Karaoke?”
“Milo was the security guy at the bar.” She looks at me strangely, a laugh escaping her lips. “You really don’t remember anything, do you? I thought I was the one who was supposed to forget.”
I lie back down on the bed and close my eyes, concentrating as hard as I can on remembering something. Lily singing, flashes through my mind. I make a face. I thought she was joking about the karaoke. I must have been really drunk to agree to that. Which explains the hangover. I’m probably the only person in the world who is nonfunctional after only two drinks
This is what I get for drinking.
“Shit,” Lily gasps. “Fuck. Fuck.”
I sit back up and squint at her, the panic in her voice and three consecutive cuss words enough to worry me. My phone buzzes from its currently unknown location, but I ignore it, because I can barely focus on one thing at the moment without adding something else to the mix.
“Lily! What the hell?” I growl, flinching when her phone hits the wall right near my head. It bounces off into her suitcase. I glare at her, but she won’t meet my eyes. “You nearly knocked me out with your stupid phone.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, impatience lacing my voice.
“It’s nothing. Forget it.”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously at her. Forget it? Unlikely. The red cheeks are a dead giveaway that she’s done something stupid., so is the fact that she’s about to cry. I sigh.
I bet she’s texted Julian.
“Lily—”
“I’m sorry,” she wails, cutting me off. “I clicked the wrong button and—”
She stops speaking when my phone buzzes again. Her eyes widen in horror as I reach into a stack of clothes for my phone. I raise my eyebrows when a message from her lights up my screen. I’m much more alert now—probably because I’m finding this whole thing the tiniest bit amusing. If she’s stupid enough to fail at sending him a text, then she deserves me rubbing it in her face.
Lily: This is what you’ve been missing: Attachment.
“Something you want to tell me?” I ask her, swallowing a giggle. “You can start with how much it’s going to scar me if I click on that attachment.”
“Delete it. Please, just delete it.”
Fuck, it must be bad.
“What’s going on?”
I glance over at Darcy and laugh as she sits up in the bed. She’s still half asleep, her hair pointing in all directions and her makeup all over her face. She frowns, looking from Lily, to me. “Will one of you answer me?”
I smirk and hold up my phone.
“Looks like Lily’s been busy.”
“What is it?”
“A crisis averted is what it is.” I grin. “I think she was trying to text Julian, but she sent it to me instead.”
“Jesus,” Darcy mutters. “Really, Lily? Are you fucking nuts? Why would you text him?” She glances at me expectantly. “Boobs?”
“Don’t think so,” I say with a frown. “It’s a video.”
“Are you sure you want to watch it? I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s into some kinky shit.” Darcy narrows her eyes at Lily. “There was a candy bar on that desk last night and I’m not seeing it there now. You know what that means.”
I stare at her. “Gross.”
“Katie, please wait,” Lily begs. “Let me explain—”
She stops talking when the video starts. Darcy crouches down next to me, so she can watch it too. The two of us giggle and joke about my crush on Adam. I glance at Darcy, my stomach churning.
Adam?
Fuck. There’s a blast from the past.
“I don’t even remember this,” I murmur.
“Really?” Darcy winces. “In that case, you might want to stop watching …”
But I can’t stop watching.
My heart pounds as I walk onto that stage. When I start singing the song I wrote for Adam when I was fourteen years old, it’s like all my nightmares are coming true. The fact that I wrote for him in the first place is bad enough, but I can’t sing for shit, so every note sounds like I’m being murdered.
