I WAKE UP IN THE
middle of the night crying, and my first thought is, I want to take it back. Iâve made a huge mistake and I want to take it all back. Then I cry myself back to sleep.
In the morning, my head throbs, and now Iâm the one throwing up in the bathroom, just like the girls at Beach Week, only thereâs no one to hold my hair back. I feel better after, but I lie on the bathroom floor for a while in case another wave of nausea hits. I fall asleep there, and wake up to Kitty shaking me by the arm. âMove, I have to pee,â she says, stepping over me.
âHelp me up,â I say, and she drags me to my feet. She sits down to pee and I splash cold water on my face.
âGo eat some toast,â Kitty says. âItâll soak up the alcohol in your stomach.â
I brush my teeth and stumble downstairs to the kitchen, where Daddy is cooking eggs and Margot and Trina are eating yogurt.
âRise and shine, little girl,â Trina says with a grin.
âYou look like someone ran you over with a truck,â Margot says.
âYouâd be grounded right now if it werenât for the wedding,â Daddy says, trying to sound stern and failing. âEat some scrambled eggs.â
I gag at the thought.
âFirst eat some toast,â Margot instructs. âItâll soak up the alcohol.â
âThatâs what Kitty said.â
Trina points her spoon at me. âAnd then, once youâve put some food in your belly, you can have two Advil. Never, ever take Advil on an empty stomach. Youâll be feeling much better in no time.â
âIâm never drinking again,â I vow, and Margot and Trina exchange a smirk. âIâm serious.â
I spend the whole day in bed, lights off with the curtains drawn. I want so badly to call Peter. To ask him to forgive me. I donât even remember everything I said. I remember the gist of it, but the memory itself is blurry. The one thing I do remember so clearly, what Iâll never forget, is the stricken look on his face, and it makes me hate myself for putting it there.
I give in. I text him. Just three words.
Iâm so sorry.
I see the . . . on the other end. My heart pounds madly as I wait. But the reply never comes. I try calling, but my call goes straight to voice mail, and I hang up. Maybe heâs already deleted me from his phone, like he did his dad. Maybe heâs just . . . done.