Me: ALSO, I HAVE LEARNED AN IMPORTANT LESSON: GELATIN BASED SWEETS ARE NEVER TO BE TRUSTED.
I could keep going, but if it’s not okay to triple text, quadruple texting probably is a misdemeanor. Besides, Beck won’t see the messages unless he and his crew take a break.
Plus, my phone notifications tell me I have a few missed calls and texts of my own.
Ugh.
The first is from my sister at 7:12 a.m.
Margaret: How are you feeling? Are you okay?
Then another one from her at 7:34.
Margaret: You need to call Mom or Dad. I’ve tried to reassure them, but they’re tweaking.
From Dad at 7:30.
Dad: Call your mother, Hats.
And if that boy wasn’t a gentleman last night, I have the means to take him on a one-way trip offshore.
This is followed by a string of shark and skull and crossbone emojis.
I roll my eyes and decide on a compromise.
I text both parents:
Me: I AM ALIVE AND WELL (EXCEPT FOR A HANGOVER). BECK WAS A PERFECT GENTLEMAN. STOP TWEAKING.
Before I can even throw the covers off and work my way to standing, Mom has replied.
Mom: When are you coming home? Will you be back in time for church? Do you want me to come get you???
I shoot back a quick no and put my phone on DND.
Aware that I’m not alone in Beck’s house—that his dad is somewhere downstairs—I tiptoe across the hall and lock myself in the bathroom.
One glance in the mirror and a memory from last night rushes back. Me. Right here. Staring at the wreck of my reflection.
I snort.
Bedhead and the addition of morning sunlight have not improved the view.
And yet, Beck said I was fucking cute.
Cute or not, I’m not facing anyone without a shower. I turn on the hot water and peel off Beck’s clothes.
Even though I put them right back on afterward, the full body scrub down—with Beck’s yummy smelling soap—has done me good.
Ain’t no way I’m putting my feet back into the gold pump booties I had on last night. And not just because they’d clash with the comfy sweats and T-shirt.
So when I hit the stairs, I’m barefoot and with my hair towel-dried and combed out.
But a few steps from the bottom, I freeze. Because I hear voices.
No.
Not voices. Just one voice. And it doesn’t sound happy.
