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Fifteen steps.
Ten.
Five.
I swing open the bathroom stall, pushing people aside. I hug the toilet.
This is the worst.
“Nina, are you good?” She’s holding in her laugh.
Again.
Ana turns to lock the bathroom door. Her short red dress rides up as she kneels on the ground. She releases a huge sigh while tucking my hair behind my ear. I feel a lot better than I thought I would.
She reaches her hand into her purse and pulls out a flask. It’s pink with far too much glitter. It has cursive writing on it.
Girls with class don’t need a glass.
Ha.
I grab it from her and bring it to my nose to smell it.Vodka.
I tilt my head back and begin to drink it.
“Ana.” Her name slurs out of my lips. “I’m really drunk.”
My sister’s giggle softens my sick feeling. Her laugh could make anyone’s day. The gentle sound feels like the warmest hug. “Yeah, you look it.”
Was this her plan? To get me drunk off my ass?
I’d say she succeeded.
Ana’s head whips around so fast that her hair hits me in the face. “Oh my God. Our song!” She shouts in excitement, yanking my arm, pulling me off the ground.
Being drunk makes the best cop-out for any problem. It makes every problem in my mind melt away like candle wax. Nothing seems to bother me as I feel the alcohol run through my veins. In this moment right now, I couldn’t feel more alive even if I were screaming at the top of a mountain.
The best part about being this drunk is not a damn thing can bother me. By all means, just enjoy a glass full of poison and watch the truth come out.
No filtered thoughts, just pure euphoria.
I follow Ana to the dance floor as my mind ignores the hangover I’m bound to feel in the morning.
I stumble on my heels, falling backward. Someone’s hands grab my arms, steadying my balance.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I slowly turn around, still holding onto the person kind enough not to let me fall on my ass.
My smile leaves my lips.
No—it’s stolen.
Giovanni Genovese.
If eyes could speak, there would be an endless sentence of curse words flowing out of his mouth right now.
“Carlo, get Ana.” His voice is flat, fighting with the music blaring through the speakers.
I wonder what Carlo is thinking right now. His wife’s “duty” is to stay home and avoid trouble. Hell, he probably thinks that I’m the one who dragged her out tonight.
