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When she lifts up the graham cracker and marshmallow, her eyes go wide because brown goo is smeared all over my hand.“Uh-oh.”
Before I can stop her, she leans down and licks my palm.I’m standing there with a sticky marshmallow and a bag of chocolate in one hand and this woman dragging her tongue across the other, so I drop the bag on the table and shove the marshmallow into my mouth.
The persistent guy who may have a name is shooting me daggers.The other guys are laughing.
This girl needs to go home.
“You can stop.I’ll just wash my hands.”My cheeks feel as hot as the fire.
She continues to lick up each finger, stopping only once to check for spots she missed.
I yank my hand back, but not hard enough to pull her off balance.
“Sorry about the mess.”She scrunches up her nose and teeters on her feet.
Based on her expression and how she’s tilting, I anticipate another mess soon.
I’ll have to apologize to Dag later, but I need to get her out of here.
After scrubbing my hands on my jeans to make sure the chocolate is gone, I scoop her off her feet.“Let me take you home.Or at least someplace safe.”
“Thank you.”Her head lands on my shoulder, and she closes her eyes.“I don’t feel good.”
I carry her to my truck.My planning leaves something to be desired.She’s in my arms, and the keys are in my pocket.I could ask her for help, but given that she just licked my hand, I’m not letting her stick her hands in my pocket.
With her wedged between me and the truck, I fish keys out of my pocket and press the button to unlock the door.Even with all the jostling, Jazzy never opens her eyes.
A third arm would be handy right now.
Once the passenger door is open, I set her on the seat.“I need to let my friend know I’m leaving.”
She bobs her head, and I step to the side of the truck and call Dag.He’ll have to find a way home if he isn’t willing to leave right now.
He answers after four rings.“Yo, Tyler.Did you get my text?”
“No.What did it say?”I haven’t looked at my phone since meeting my hand-licking friend.
“I left the party.You can go home whenever.”
“You left?”I like Dag, but sometimes he irritates me.
“Met a knockout.Gorgeous.We’re going to watch a movie.”He chuckles.
“I don’t want to know anymore.See you tomorrow.”I’d be more upset except he’s the reason I’m at this party.And Jazzy needs my help.
As I shove the phone in my back pocket, she scrambles out of my truck and stumbles around the front.The noises she makes leave no doubt that she’s feeling pretty bad.
I ease up beside her, watching my step.“You okay?”
She shakes her head.“I’m sorry.It was just soda.”Her eyes brim with tears.“I only drank soda.”
“Let’s get you out of here.”I want to believe her, but she’s acting drunk.
Did someone slip her something?I’ve heard stories, but it’s never happened to anyone I know.Was it the guy who was too persistent?Was he the one she described as creepy?
My main goal is to get her home safely.Otherwise, I’d confront him.But with what proof?
After helping her into the truck, I find a T-shirt wadded up on the seat.“It isn’t clean and probably smells, but you can wipe your face with this.”
