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My perfectly mixed vodka and orange soda is long gone, and I’m in a nice, relaxed mood.
Maybe I can get on board with parties here.
Sarah shoves another shot in my hand. Down it goes. More warmth in my stomach. More dancing. After a quick bathroom break, Sarah and I stop by the bar and down our… fourth… shots.
I’m sliding past tipsy at this point, but as I dance with Aaron’s arms wrapped around my waist, I feel safe and I’m having a lot of fun.
Joel returns with another round of shots for the group. In a great mood now, I loudly cheer and throw it back.
I press my body against Aaron and keep dancing.
As haziness washes over me, I think about the shots and the tequila. I remember my grandpa always used to say something about tequila. Oh. Right. He used to call itto kill ya.
And. Oof. I. Think. I. Know. Why.
Tequila is a fairweather friend,I think, as the fifth shot hits me and the room spins.
Or maybe it’s the enemy.
Aaron
I notice Rae’s sudden change in demeanor and wrap my arm more tightly around her waist. I drop my mouth against her ear and whisper, “Are you okay?”
She spins to face me. Well, she tries and almost falls over.
Shit.
She grabs my shoulders to steady herself. Not that it matters, I have a tight grip on her.
“Babe, how many shots have you had?”
She blinks at me, then looks up, thinking. Her eyes roll around as she counts on her fingers. Then she holds up one hand and slurs, “Five.”
My eyes go wide. “Five? How did you have five?”
“Urm… one, two with all of you. One with Sarah and Mackie. One with Sarah. One more with all of you. Plus, I had the vodka,” she slurs, then smiles, but it quickly disappears as her face goes a shade whiter.
“I think I should get you back to the dorm now.”
She nods. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
Ratcheting one hand around her back, I guide her toward the door, nodding at Miles as we go.
The trek back is slow going. She’s stumbling, and I’m pretty much holding her up. Suddenly, she grabs my shoulder. “Stop. I—I…” She leans to one side then wavers back and forth.
I quickly guide her off the path and as soon as we’re in the grass, she leans over and pukes. And then pukes again. And again. While crying. She’s always hated throwing up. I hold her hair and rub her back. When she’s finally done, I scoop her up in my arms. It’s gonna be an arm workout to carry her all the way back to the fucking dorm, but it’ll go faster than trying to drag her there, stumbling.
She loops her arms around my neck and rests her head against my chest. “I think you like carrying me.”
I crack a smile. “Always, Beautiful.”
“I love you, Ace.”
“I love you, too.”
My soul lights on fire for her. I love taking care of her. Not much makes sense to me right now, but this does. She does.Wedo.
When we get back to her room, she’s looking sick again. I lead her into the bathroom and sit on the floor with her, gently stroking her hair. She pukes three more times. Then one round of dry-heaving and she’s finally done.
