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Agirl's night with alcohol and upbeat music is what I need to ease the spitefulness and frustration that's taken home in my chest. There's a bottle of vodka on the floor, and we spin it every once in a while, as we take turns to drink from it. The buzz from the alcohol is tingling under my skin, the vibe settling in the apartment.
A couple of hours after the conversation that we had in the kitchen, we moved the party to the living room. We've played a couple of drinking games—Cora being the referee most of the time—and now we're tipsy. No, we're close to being drunk already. Our laughter is loud, tears are streaming down our faces, and I'm sure that we'll end up earning a noise complaint from our neighbors. However, I'm unbothered by that fact. I don't care enough about what I'm doing on the road to getting wasted.
Everything that happened this week is a blur in my mind. I'm still unmotivated, frustrated, and disappointed in my absurd crush on John Carter. I'm not heartbroken. No, that would mean that I have deeper feelings for him, and that's not the situation. However, I am scorned with how things went down. I never expected him to be an asshole. I realize now that I'd been fooling myself to keep my illusion of him intact.
We're incompatible.
But acknowledging that doesn't ease the anger boiling my blood. Mainly, I'm mad at myself. In a group of friends, there's always one that makes the wrong choices when it comes to men. In my group, I'm that friend. The one that never picks the right guys. I've never chosen the guys that I'd be proud of bringing home, which is why I haven't introduced a single guy to my parents.
“This is the last one,” assures Cora, shaking her head. Her blonde hair is tied in a bun, and a blush covers her cheeks due to the alcohol in her system. “God, I'm dizzy already. I can't go to the academy with a hangover.”
Her comment makes me realize that I'm dizzy too. I've been confusing the lightness of my body with the typical buzz of being tipsy. I'm notthatdrunk. Or am I? There's a weird vibe flowing through my body, and everything seems happier and fun. That's it. I'm happy. The negative feelings have abandoned my mind for the first time in the whole week. It feels like a brick has been lifted from my chest.
There's no Stanley or professor Byrne.
Just plain old happiness.
I'm joyful.
“What time is it?” Ash questions. “It can't be that late, right?”
Cora shrugs.
“I don't know, but I'm exhausted already,” she replies.
“Wait, I'll go check,” I say, getting up from the floor so fast that I stagger and almost fall back to the floor. "Shit."
Oh, fuck.
Maybe I am drunk but not wasted yet. I'm still aware of my actions, and I think that I can drink a couple of shots without ending up intoxicated.
I walk to my room, pushing the door so hard that it crashes with the wall with a loud bang. I'm afraid that I broke it and I'll have to pay to get it fixed because I don't know how I will explain that to my parents.
Shaking my head, I ignore the flags, telling me that I need to slow down with my actions and concentrate on the task of finding my phone in the darkness of my room. I'm not as sober as I thought I was because I end up crawling over the mattress of my bed. Stretching my arms, I fumble around trying to find it, probably looking like Velma from Scooby-Doo.
I immediately stop when I hear my phone crash on the floor.
Please don't be broken,I repeat like a mantra that will protect the screen. I allow myself to sigh with relief when I see that the glass remains intact. Or I think it is. I'm not so sure because I can't see well in the dark, and my sight is now blurry.
I don't think that I need more confirmation. Iamdrunk.
The numbers on the screen are clumped together, making it impossible for me to decipher what time it is. Instead of asking the girls to read it for me, I distract myself with the apps, visiting Instagram for a few minutes. I have a new direct message that intrigues me. I have to blink to clear my sight until the words aren't blurry.
ryderweisss: I have a feeling that we're going to be great friends. Wanna go to a party with me?
I frown with confusion. Who the hell is this guy? We barely know each other. I'm trying to figure out if I read right, but that's definitely what the message says. Thinking about him makes every event of this week come back to my head.
“Bree!” I hear Ash calling me, startling me as if I've been doing something wrong. “Did you get lost in your room or what?”
“I'm coming,” I yell back, blocking my phone without answering Ryder's message. “I got distracted.”
Instead of telling them what just happened, I connect my phone to the speakers, putting music. The song that plays has an electrifying rhythm that immediately puts me in a better mood than before. The tingle from the alcohol is more present in my skin, caressing every inch of my body as I return to the living room, rocking my head from side to side.
I see Cora going to her room, and I lower the volume because I'm not going to be an asshole. If she needs to sleep, I'm not going to be the one disturbing her. Waving goodbye, I jump to one of the couches, my gaze focusing on Karma. She's lying on the floor, her arm covering her eyes from the light.
“I'm not asleep,” she assures in a mumble. “I'm resting my eyes.”
Sure thing.
