“Finally twenty-one, huh?”
“Looks like it,” I reply, cocking my hip out with my hand on top. I’m giving all the attitude I usually give to my best friend’s older brother but he’s giving me so much more attention than he ever has. Well…not ever.
There was that one night last year.
Shaking my head, I evaporate the image from my mind. There’s no way I’m going back to that night. The events are never to be repeated.
“You’re old now, brat.”
I smirk. “At least I’m not geriatric like you.”
The bartender places the drinks down, and Arden takes the shots from the bar, handing one to me. “Twenty-four is distinguished, mature…” he trails off.
“Annoying,” I finish. For a few seconds we have a staring contest, not saying a word. Both too stubborn to speak first.
“To twenty-one,” Arden says, not breaking eye contact with me.
“Twenty-one.” I nod, then both of us down the shot without issue. Arden wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before turning back to grab the rest of the drinks. He hands me my margarita and I take a sip.
I should probably slow down my drinking but if you don’t end your twenty-first birthday with your face in the toilet, did it even happen?
When I wake up, it takes effort to peel my skin off the cool porcelain. I look down and realize I’m pantless, my shirt thankfully long enough to cover the more private parts of my body.
Speaking of shirts, this is not the one I was wearing last night. Someone must’ve changed me before I took up residence on the bathroom floor. I’m sure it was Margot. She’s big sisterly like that, even though she’s the youngest in her family and only a few months older than me. Still, I’ll have to give her many kisses of gratitude for taking care of me last night. Well, after I brush my teeth.
It takes a lot of effort to hoist myself off the ground, but once I finally do, brushing my teeth is the first task I set to. Then I take a steaming hot shower to wash the stink of alcohol and puke off of me. The scolding water makes me feel infinitesimally better but it’s better nonetheless. Once I’m done, I dry off before fastening on my purple polka dot rope.
Groaning, I make my way back to my room, bypassing the living room, kitchen and my roommate’s rooms. All doors are closed, it must be early. I have no recollection of anything that happened past that shot I took with Arden but I can’t imagine anyone else got as drunk as I did. I’m just grateful to have a good support group of people to get black-out drunk around.
Kicking open my door, I shriek at the sight in front of me.
Arden is curled up, passed out cold wrapped up in my dandelion duvet. The yellow color completely washes out his olive skin.
Rolling my eyes, I march toward the bed, hitting him hard enough for him to stir and waken.
“Why are you in my bed?”
“Good morning, brat,” he mutters with a yawn. Arden reaches up to stretch his arms and I swat at him.
“Why are you in my bed,peepants?” I ask, using the nickname I had so lovingly given him when we were in middle school.
“You threw up on the rug.”
I inhale a quick breath. “No, I didn’t.” Running toward the living room, I’m assaulted by the smell. I have no idea how I didn’t notice it when I came out of the bathroom. The room absolutely reeks.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan, plodding back into the room. I plop down next to Arden on the bed. “I need to clean that up.”
“Sooner would be better,” he chuckles and I hit him with a scathing look.
“What happened last night? I think I blacked out.”
Arden laughs again. “Oh, I know you did. Who do you think carried your crazy ass home?”
“Carried?” I squeal. “Fucking hell.”
He pushes the covers off, getting up from the bed. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” Only when he stands do I realize he’s only wearing his boxers. I’ve seen him shirtless before, beach days in the summer, pool parties,last year…The sight of him now causes my nausea to return for an entirely different reason.
Arden leans down and I turn my head up to look at the ceiling instead of his ass. I hear him shrugging on his jeans and pulling his hoodie over his head.