Part 26 (1/2)

Chapter 24.

Sometime during the night, I awaken with the burning need to pee and puke. Hoping I don't do both at the same time, I stagger around my unfamiliar surroundings in search of a bathroom. I don't think I'm going to make it in time, but lucky me, I hit the jackpot on the first door I come to. After I empty both my bladder, and my stomach, I feel so much better. Tears form at the corners of my eyes in relief. I find my way back to the bed, and flop down next to the warm body sprawled there. My last conscious thought has me vaguely wondering who I'm lying next to. Then it's light out.

I wake up in an unfamiliar room feeling like a used toilet. Disgusting, but true. Also, I don't know what kind of monster is rhythmically squeezing my brain in his giant sweaty fist, but I'd wish it would stop.

Water. I desperately need water. And, secondly, a bathroom.

And-oh, my G.o.d-my clothes! Where the h.e.l.l are my clothes?!

I'm lying under a plaid comforter, sticky and absolutely naked. Nausea churns in my belly when I try to sit up, holding the blanket firmly over my chest. I want to stop the rush of jumbled memories a.s.saulting my senses right now, but it's as useless as trying to contain a tsunami.

I had s.e.x last night. I lost my virginity to someone other than Johnny. And who's more not-Johnny than his best friend? Oh, my G.o.d. This is an epic mess. How could I? s.h.i.+t!

”Hey.”

I startle, letting out a little scream, and clutching the comforter to me like the virgin I no longer am. Nick is standing at the foot of the bed. He looks freshly showered, and very sheepish.

”Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,” he apologizes quickly, taking a step back.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. ”No, you didn't-I just-it's okay. I mean...” I trail off as I run my hand through my hair, wincing at all the knots. I must look...I don't even want to know.

There is a horribly awkward silence where we avoid looking directly at each other while searching for something to say. When I finally open my mouth to say something, so does Nick, and we end up trying to talk over each other.

Laughing uneasily, I gesture at him. ”You go.”

”Uh...” Nick stares at the ground. ”I just wanted to say...s.h.i.+t, Juliet, I'm so sorry about last night. I should have never-I can't believe I did that. I'm a complete a.s.shole, and I took advantage of you-”

”We were both wasted,” I interrupt, shaking my head. ”I'm the one who came over and basically forced you to help me get drunk.”

”No, I should have known better. I should have at least stopped drinking.” Nick looks up, his hazel eyes more serious than I've ever seen them. ”Johnny's gonna kill me.”

”No, he won't.” I firm my jaw, and meet his gaze. ”We're not going to tell him about it. Look, we both made a huge mistake, and-it shouldn't have happened, and it's not going to happen again.” I add much more quietly, ”And he's not my boyfriend, anymore.”

Nick winces, and carefully sits down on the edge of his bed. ”Yeah, but he's still my best friend. You don't ever sleep with your best friend's girl-ex or otherwise. I'm s.h.i.+tty,” he says miserably.

He looks as devastated as I feel. I put aside my own guilty conscience and self-loathing to try to console him. ”It was a mistake,” I repeat forcefully. ”And I...Johnny and I aren't getting back together.”

I try not to sound like I've just realized this, but tears suddenly fill my eyes. I guess I unconsciously came to that understanding last night, but it's hard to say it out loud. It's definitely over between us. It has to be.

I look away, trying to hide my face, and letting my tangled hair fall forward. I wish Nick would say something because I'm afraid I'm about to start making some weird squeaky noises right now-the sound that precedes my ugly crying. If you don't know what ugly crying is, you're about to.

”You okay?”

I feel the bed move as Nick leans over to pat my foot. I lift my head up, and paste a small smile on my face. ”Fine,” I lie.

He makes this face that says he's not buying it. ”Hey, can I ask you something?” he mumbles, staring down at the bed.

”Um...okay.”

Nick doesn't look up. ”Was that your first time?”

He seems to be holding his breath while I die of mortification. As if things weren't uncomfortable enough! I gather the comforter even more firmly against myself, and glare at him. He waits, embarra.s.sed, but politely determined.

”Yes,” I huff out, helpless to stop the flood of color to my cheeks.

”s.h.i.+t!” Nick groans and drops his head into his hands. ”I'm such an a.s.shole.”

”No, you're not.” I start s.h.i.+fting, arranging myself so I can maneuver off the bed while remaining completely covered up. ”I need to-oh, s.h.i.+t! What time is it?!”

I look wildly around the room-ow, my head-and spot a football-shaped clock on the bedside table. The digital display tells me it's 6:01 a.m.

A.m.!! I am so dead!

”I have to go! Where are my clothes?! Oh, my G.o.d-my mom's gonna kill me!”

I fall off the bed in my panic, getting tangled up in blankets and sheets. Nick immediately crouches down, and I almost punch myself in the face trying to yank the sheet over my chest. He tries to help me, but quickly backs up when I start flailing.

”I just threw your clothes in the dryer,” he says quickly as I sit there panting like a wounded bird. He shrugs apologetically. ”They should be done in a few minutes. Do you wanna grab a shower while you wait?”

I can't think over the pounding in my head and heart. Rubbing my forehead, I force myself to calm down and think. Okay, I'm already screwed, a few more minutes won't hurt, and it would only help my case if I didn't come home looking like this. I wonder if Mom called the cops. G.o.d, I hope not-should I call her? No, I don't even want to check my phone to see how much missed calls and texts I have.

”Thank you,” I say after I've gotten hold of myself. ”A shower would be great.”

Nick shows me to an adjacent bathroom, roughly the size of my living room at home. After making sure I have clean towels, he tells me he'll leave my freshly laundered clothes, and a couple of aspirins just outside the door. He's being so nice, and I want to cry because I know our friends.h.i.+p will never be the same. We may never be able to look each other in the eye again.

I mean to take a two-minute shower, but I have dried puke in my hair and one of my fake eyelashes is stuck to my a.s.s. Gah! Why do people continue to get drunk if this is what happens the morning after?

I feel too sick to really dwell on the consequences of last night, and that's fine since I'll be dead once my mom gets hold of me. I can't believe I spent the night with Nick! What happened...afterwards? The last thing I remember was-Nick and I were...but what happened after that? How did we end up in bed together? Is there more to the story? If so, I don't think I want to know.

My dress is still slightly damp and wrinkled, but I slip it on anyway. I grab the aspirin and the giant bottle of Gatorade while I'm putting on my shoes and rus.h.i.+ng out the room. It's a shame I don't break my neck along the way.

”Is your dad home?” I ask Nick nervously as he starts limping down the stairs.

”Nah, he's over at Ashley's. I'm usually here by myself,” he replies with a shrug.

I take a moment to silently sympathize. The only person I know my age whose parents are actually around is Heather, and she's always complaining how hard it is to get away with stuff. Not that it stops her from partying-she has her parents completely fooled.

I could use more adult supervision. Clearly I don't make good choices.

I remember I don't have a way home only when I'm wobbling down the paved drive. I turn around and almost b.u.mp into Nick, who's right behind me with his keys in his hand. I guess he didn't forget. He shuts the door, and nods toward his Range Rover, parked in front of a three-car garage. I smile at him gratefully.

The ride to my house is beyond uncomfortable. For the first half, the only time we talk is when I throw out directions to my house. I take my aspirin and drink my Gatorade, but I'm worried nothing will touch this monstrous pounding in my head. I think Nick must feel the same way-he's wearing sungla.s.ses though it's mostly dark out, and the Range Rover keeps drifting to the left when he nods off. I almost think it's better to get in a car accident than to go home right now with no excuse about last night.

I can't believe I just had that thought. Man, I'm dumb.