And it bothers the hell out of me that I genuinely can’t remember.
Watch your drinks.
I scratch my forehead and stare at the ground for a beat as he starts packing his bowl.
The dizziness… the quick way my body seemed to fall… I’ve blacked out drunk enough times before to know the difference between that and what happened to me last night.
Something is off.
“Dude, I think I was roofied last night,” I eventually say to him.
“What? When?” Reed balks.
“I don’t…” I wrack my brain, the heels of my palms pressing into my eye sockets. “I don’t remember? I chatted with that one girl—”
“You don’t think she drugged you, do you?” he asks.
“Which one?” I ask.
“Your stalker? Or, shit, the brunette? Really?”
“I mean, maybe? Do you know who brought me back last night?”
“Not a fucking clue,” he says. “I was trying to find Zeb for like an hour. When we got here, you were passed out in the bunk. I did keep checking on you, though. Thought you were dead at one point.”
“I kinda feel like I was dead at one point.” I reach for the pink skull tumbler and unscrew the cap, then tip what’s left of the drink into my mouth. The warm vodka lingers on my plaque-plagued teeth like water on a fuzzy blanket before burning my already raw throat, and I flinch as it goes down.
“My bunk has to be covered in puke. That or I stuck a fire iron down my throat last night,” I say as I uncap the vodka bottle to make another drink. “Have you heard from Mads? Or Avie?”
God, I hope this drink dulls my brain.
“Ah, Avie was going to get him out of jail earlier. They should be back soon.” He lights the bowl and inhales a long hit, then holds it in his lungs for a second before releasing a plume of sweet smelling smoke. “Need this?”
“Maybe later.” I wave him off and pour the vodka into the bottom of my cup with a couple of pieces of ice, adding coconut water and orange on top.
“Look at you getting your vitamins in,” Reed teases me.
“Cheers.” I knock my cup against his pipe, and he takes another hit as I chug half of the drink.
“Hey, Bon—”
Mads’ voice rings through the tour bus as he jumps on and leans around the corner.
“Speak of the fucking Devil!” Reed lifts his arms and grins at his best friend. “What’s up? Did anyone try to piss on you?”
Mads shakes his head. “Just another night,” he says before jerking his chin my way. “Hey, there’s someone here to see you. I think it’s your dad?”
Fuck.
Reed’s brows lift my way. “Why fuck? I want to meet your dad,” he says.
“I didn’t realize I said that out loud,” I say, mildly panicking. “Ah… Okay. I’ll…” I glance down at my clothes. Shit. “I need to shower. There are chunks in my hair.”
“What do you want me to tell him?” Mads asks.
I can’t let him go back out and talk to my dad.
I don’t want them to know how much pain my mom is in. I can’t let him talk to them. What if he says something and they think I should go home? I’m not ready to go home. I can’t. I won’t—
