Never drinking again.
I throw on some leggings and a hoodie, not in the mood to bother with hair or makeup. My mother might have a stroke if she knew I was going out in public like this.
I’m not sure why I thought it was a good idea to have girls’ night on a school night, but I’ve been doing the whole ‘do what I want, no regrets’ thing. So far, it’s been working. Not as much right this moment. Thankfully, I only have one class today.
In the living room, Ellie is eating leftover pizza. I spy the empty wine bottle on the table, and my stomach curls.
“Morning,” she chirps.
“Ugh.”
“Feeling rough? That last bit of wine might have been overkill.”
“I have regrets.”
“Here”—she holds out her half-eaten pizza—“this is the holy grail for a hangover. Trust me.”
My face twists in disgust. “No, thanks. I can’t even think about eating right now. Seriously, I didn’t think I drank that much, yet I feel awful. You drank more than me and look at you. How?”
She’s happily sitting in her cute PJs, face fresh and glowing like she rested for fourteen hours.
I snag a bottle of water from the fridge and take a drink. My mouth feels like I ate a bag of sand.
“I’m experienced, Liv. You’re still learning to walk.” She holds up her pizza in a last-ditch attempt. “Sure you don’t want some?”
I shake my head. “I need to get to class. I’ll see you later?”
“Sure. If you’re not with your lover boy, that is.”
I freeze, her words triggering my fuzzy memory.No.
I talked to Penn last night. I vaguely remember the conversation. Did I tell him to write a song about me? Oh God. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to summon the memory, and parts come to me in fragments. I think I told him I wanted to stay here. Maybe something about sex, too, or blow jobs?
“What’s wrong?” Ellie asks around a mouthful of pizza.
“I talked to Penn last night and said some embarrassing stuff.”
She tries to hold in her smile, but she isn’t successful. “Happens to the best of us. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
My eyes widen as the whole conversation comes rushing back to me. “Oh my God.” I slap my hand across my forehead. “I told him I wanted to have sex with him, but I was afraid I’d be bad! And I said his cock was pretty! Why would I say that?” I screech, horrified. “He’s probably running for the hills as we speak.” I grab my phone but find no messages waiting for me, and show her the screen, which is free of notifications as proof. “Yep, probably blocked my number and put me on a special list to keep me from his shows.”
Ellie’s mouth opens wide, then she tilts her head back and laughs.
“It’s not funny! I’m so embarrassed.”
She waves her hand around. “I’m sorry,” she wheezes. “But it’s a little funny.”
“Ugh.” I groan, rubbing my pounding temples. I need a bottle of Advil and a time machine.
Once she’s finally done laughing, Ellie jumps off the barstool and pats my shoulder. “It’s fine. He probably enjoyed the cock compliment.”
I give her an unimpressed look.
“Guys like that stuff too, and you’re not bad at sex. You just need to have sex with someone you’re actually attracted to.”
I frown. “I was attracted to Chad.”
Wasn’t I?
