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I staggered into the living room, and my two friends followed me to a couch, where I plopped down, body numb.
“You look like you’re going to puke,” Luke said. Kevin nodded in agreement.
Words became harder and harder to form as my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I couldn’t seem to focus, my eyes blurry, my brain like a train charging down a track without brakes.
“What’s going on?” Kevin urged.
“Gem’s pregnant.”
Like a sitcom, they snapped their faces toward each other than at me. If I wasn’t about to die, I’d laugh.
“Pregnant?” they repeated.
I nodded.
“It’s okay, man. It’ll be fine,” Luke said, patting my shoulder, although he didn’t sound very assured.
Kevin rubbed at his forehead. “I need a drink for this.”
I licked my parched lips. “Shit, me too.”
“Hold on,” Luke said, standing up. “I saw somebody brought you whiskey. You really want a drink?”
I nodded even as my best friends gazed at me with weary eyes, but Luke retrieved the bottle anyway. He unscrewed the top and swallowed a gulp straight from the bottle before passing it to me. With a sigh, I put the cool glass to my lips and took a long pull. The last time I’d tasted alcohol was over ten years ago, but tonight seemed like the night to break the dry spell. I winced at the burn in my throat and handed it to Kevin.
As the party raged on, the three of us sat together, passing the whiskey back and forth, slowly getting drunk.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
Gem
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
I tried to ignore the low, constant sound. I assumed it was the person in the apartment next to mine stomping around, but eventually, it grew too loud to ignore. Getting up to investigate, I realized it was coming from outside my apartment. I opened the front door to find Jason sprawled on the floor, his leg bent up as if he’d been hitting the wall with his foot. He toppled inside the apartment like a sack of potatoes.
“Jason?”
He regarded me with glassy-eyes. “You rang?”
“What are you doing?” When he eventually scrambled to his feet, I got a whiff of him. “You’ve been drinking.”
He stood up to his full height, hanging on to the doorframe for balance as he leaned inside, pronouncing each word deliberately. “Very astute observation, Gemmie.”
“How did you get here?”
“I rode my bike.”
“Don’t be a jerk.”
He smirked, wobbly and derisively. “Can I come in? This jerk wants to talk to you.”
I stood in the door, blocking him. “I don’t think we should have this conversation right now. Especially when you’re like this.”
“We have to have this conversation.” He loomed over me, his hands above my head on the doorframe. “Now.”
